*warning: contains language readers may find offensive*

9 hours later...

"You can go in ten minutes if nobody comes in..." Christina told Monica as she wiped the back counter of her cafe.

The girl nodded and looked at the clock on the wall.

"Twenty minutes to five... twenty minutes until I go home to do absolutely nothing"

She threw the dishcloth into the sink with disdain when her boss disappeared into the back room.

"I wonder what Freddie's doing right now... probably sipping teas or going to a ceremony" she washed her hands under the tap.

Just then she heard the bell at the door I ring, followed by the laughter of a group of adolescents behind her.

"Oh no, teenagers," she thought with dread, knowing that the younger they were more difficult customers they tended to be, "Why am I even being hasty about them? I still am one!"

Three teenage school boys stood at the glass counter, looking at the overhead menu.

She didn't recognise any of them as regular customers, or their uniforms. Nonetheless, she wasn't in the mood to deal with them.

"Maybe they're from the suburbs... I know Freddie told me he used to go into town all the time when he lived in the suburbs" she watched as they decided what they wanted, whispering amongst themselves and giggling.

The pang of the thought of Freddie made her zone out, for he was the only reason she was still in London. He was her everything now. The disappointment and longing for him to be back was distracting her all day, for now he was her motivation to way up in the morning.

"Excuse me... excuse me? Miss?"

She snapped back into reality, forcing a smile, "Yes, are you ready to order?"

The freckled ginger teen stepped forward, a smug grin on his face, his eyes elsewhere from hers, "Finally! Can I please have... two large milkshakes?"

His friends snickered, and despite his rudeness she carried on with her job, "Alright, what flavour would you like?"

The boys laughed out loud, and he handed her a five pound note as he glanced to her chest with a wink, "Surprise me, hot stuff"

"Oh, I see what you did there now... Wait until I tell Freddie what you called me, you little sod" she opened the cash machine, her cheeks burning red.

She took the note, showing no warmth or expression as she handed back the correct change, "I'm afraid it'll have to take out as we're closing soon. Is that everything?"

The tubby one with acne and greasy brown hair leaned forward, "Can I have a slice of cherry pie?"

"We don't have cherry pie, sorry" she said flatly.

"I was thinking your cherry pie?" his mouth twisted into a seductive grin that only ended up looking sickly.

"...We don't have cherry pie" she repeated, and the smirk wore off of his face.

She turned around and took two of the larger plastic cups stacked by the fridge as they continued to giggle behind her.

As she scooped vanilla ice cream into the blender jug and poured milk in as part of the preparation, she listened to their  vulgar and humiliating conversation:

"Nice arse on that one"

"Oh yeah... haven't been able to buy a tit rag in a while... I need my fill"

"Just look at Page 3 of The Sun! My old man sneaks a look at it all the time!"

Monica rolled her eyes, for she had been told that the tabloid had a reputation for being overexaggerative.

"Your old man's a tosser!"

"Hey!"

"You're not still saving up to see that donkey-toothed poof, are you?"

One scoffed, "Ha! Cheapskate!"

"Hey, I like Queen very much! And no, I lost my fake ID, that's all"

"That 'donkey-toothed poof' is my boyfriend you're talking about" Monica grit her teeth as she switched the blender on.

"Alright then, dummy! Don't take your sexual frustration out on me just because you're saving up for a few hours of your life!"

"Yeah, it's not like you're going to be doing anything worthwhile at a Queen concert, like losing your virginity!"

"I am not sexually frustrated, I'm perfectly satisfied!" he defended, and they both groaned in disgust.

"Thank god I'm not in high school anymore... boys at that age are vile!" she thought as she poured the milkshake into the cups.

"Why, because you're interested in that speccy bird from the year below!"

"Bet she has the hots for you too!"

"Guys, shut up!"

"Look, he's got a stiffy! Bet he's craving some Irish gash!"

"No I'm not!"

When the other two were laughing as the one complained in humiliation, Monica looked right and left to check that the coast was clear as she squirted cream on top.

Her mouth churned up any saliva she had, and when the boys weren't looking snd engrossed in their sexist conversation she spat in both the milkshakes.

She even took time to scrape a few insects from the fly-catching tape suspended from the ceiling near her head onto the cream as her own personal finishing touch, disguised by mini marshmallows and chocolate sprinkles.

She knew Freddie would be repulsed when she told him, but she didn't care. She was more annoyed that she'd never get to see the horror on the boy's face when he saw a dead fly floating at the bottom of his cup, or even swallow it by mistake.

"Revenge really is sweet... I just hope Christina never finds out about this" she smirked to herself, putting a candy-striped straw in each cup.

"There you are... two large milkshakes," she put her smile back on, placing them on the counter, "Enjoy! Would you like a serviette with that?"

"No thanks" the boy took them, "I thought I told you to surprise me"

"Oh don't fret, I tried my best" she faked a smile, and turned back to the work space as they walked out the door.

"I pity their parents for raising such wankers" she thought, putting the blender jug and ice cream scoop into the basin.

"I'll wash that dear, don't worry" Christina reappeared, waving her away from the basin.

"Thanks. I'll be off then" Monica muttered and turned away, taking out the hair clip keeping her dark waves back from her face and untying her apron.

Christina had noticed all afternoon that the girl hadn't been as bright as she usually was on her shifts. Her head was down, she was quiet, and a little slower than normal. She wanted to find out why  she was gloomy before she left; she didn't want to continue hiring a soppy and unenthusiastic waitress.

The woman switched the taps off and went to stand at the doorway, watching her employee slip into her camel coat with her back to her, "You alright, Monica?"

The girl looked over her shoulder slightly, and nodded, but not a peep came out of her.

"Did a customer say something to you again? It wasn't that blonde woman and her friend again, was it?" Her manager made her way over, taking her cap off of her permed greying hair.

"No" she half-lied as she buttoned up her coat.

"...It's about Freddie, isn't it?" She put her hand on her arm.

She could see Monica stop and go still, and nodded she again, "It's nothing serious though, honestly"

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

Monica turned around to face her, her eyes gleaming, "Maybe another time"

"If you wish... actually, wait right there, I want to give you something" Christina instructed.

"What is she doing? What would she possibly want to give me?" The girl watched as her manager disappeared back into the cafe.

She emerged with what looked like a small dish covered by a tea cloth in her hands.

"What's that?" She murmured.

"Some leftover bacon and cheese pie from below the counter. I don't want it to go to waste," Christina handed it to her. "Heat it up at 180 degrees for twenty minutes and make sure that it's piping hot before you eat it"

"Oh Christina, that's very generous of you" she lifted the tea towel slightly to look at the golden pastry surface.

She pat her shoulder reassuringly, "Look after yourself, alright?" 

"I will, thank you" a smile returned to Monica's face, and she backed out the door.

"Don't forget to bring the tea towel and pie dish back tomorrow!" Her boss called after her.

"Of course" she waved back, heading down the pavement, and her manager ducked back inside.

"Alone again" she thought sadly as she heard the back door shut behind her. 

Although London was thriving at night, it could still be such an isolating atmosphere. She decided to walk another route home to avoid bumping into those horrible schoolboys again. Now that her hair was down and her coat was on to shield herself from the summer breeze, she hoped that she'd be less recognisable if they ever did have a chance encounter.

"I'll just punch them where it hurts" she thought as her lips curled smugly at the corners of her mouth.

As she strolled across the Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea with her head down, she thought of all the possible things that she would've been doing on a summer's day off from work if she was at home in Belfast.

Perhaps she could've been lying belly down on the floor and painting watercolours or sketching while her record player spun in her sunlit bedroom. Or spending the afternoon walking along the cliff path of Cave Hill with Paula or her brother Lenny, absorbing views of her city and trying to sneak into Belfast Zoo to look at the animals and get back home to Ballysillan in time for dinner. 

Amidst her homesickness she swore she could hear a distinct clicking sound of multiple camera shutters amidst the rush hour traffic, but could not see where the paparazzi where hiding.

"Not today, boys" she grumbled, "Your editors won't salvage much for their front page headline from an image of a girl carrying a pie"

The shutter sounds stopped by the time she reached Holland Park, and when she reached the warm but lonely lamplit streets of Stafford Terrace she plotted in her head what to do the moment she got in through the door. She wasn't in the mood to take a walk before sundown, and couldn't bring herself to draw and paint to take her mind off of a man whose domestic environment she was surrounded by.

She was greeted by a team of rowdy cats wanting their dinner the moment she opened the front door.

"I know, I know... I'll get it in a minute" she huffed as she set the pie onto the side table in the hall, bitterly unbuttoning her coat as they swarmed by her feet.

"I can see why they make Freddie feel less lonely" she reached down to rub their heads as she lead them into the kitchen to feed them. 

If only they could've made her feel the same way at that moment.