The owner, Mae, sits opposite me maintaining her smile. Her skin looks youthful and untouched by the stress of living the fifty-odd years she has. Prominent crow’s feet ensure I’m not the first person to be on the receiving end of this endearing face. Her hair is tied up in a messy bun and it’s hard to tell her original hair colour. She has embraced the grey well, has aged gracefully and has some to spare because she exudes it.

“Any trouble with the directions?” She asks as she grasps a wonky mug of coffee in both hands.

“No no, they were perfect in fact.” A small shiver travels up my spine watching her sip her steaming coffee. She finishes her sip and places the mug carefully on the table.

“You should know, I was really impressed with your phone interview. What was it, three years experience?”.

“Close! Four years as a barista, yeah,” In eight different cafes, “I worked while I studied.”.

“Ah lovely, what were you studying?” She leans forward and clasps the mug again.

“Medicine. Healing is somewhat of a family business.”.

“Your parents own their own practice?” Her tone changes from kind to impressed. I wish they did. I’d be working for them instead of interviewing for the only place that would actually hire me.

“Oh no, they’re both doctors, but they just work at the Royal London.”.

“I see. So, is it a love for the profession, or are you following in your parents footsteps?” She nurses the coffee.

“Both. It’s a love for helping people and I help my parents by following in their footsteps. All that’s left to do now is actually become a doctor.” My lips feel dry watching her finish off her coffee. I think she just saw me lick my lips.

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“I’m so sorry love how rude of me, would you like anything to drink?” She asks, already on her feet heading towards the bar. A coffee would be brilliant right now. I’d even take it in a wonky mug.

“It’s ok! Water is fine, thanks.” Never mind. Coffee and my 50p change can both go in the ‘Socially awkward losses’ chart for today.

The artificially lit coffee shop sitting area is a menagerie of mismatched furniture. Each table has two to four chairs, and each chair looks different from each other. Behind the bar, a large menu hangs on the wall, and an outline of a smaller sign that’s recently been taken down. The rest of the brick walls are blank, devoid of decoration. Mae places a glass of water down in front of me. I thank her, and painfully wait a few parched minutes before taking a sip so I don’t make her feel bad.

“Well Josie, I’ve been pleased with everything and would like to offer you the job. However, before I do there is something you must know about the… customers we serve here.” She shifts in her seat. Her knuckles go white from gripping her empty mug.

“Oh, if this place is a weird sex café or something I’m sorry but I’d rather not-”

“What? No gosh no. Listen, what I’m about to tell you will sound farfetched. You probably won’t believe me, and that’s ok. We serve time travellers. Exclusively. Now, if you believe me or not shouldn’t have influence over your decision, because you’re being hired to provide good service to our customers – regardless of when they’re from. So, with all of that in mind, the job is yours if you want it.”.

I flicker a smile before it turns to confusion. Is this a joke? Mae’s just smiling at me of course, it’s impossible to read her. My eyelids dance as I shake my head trying to conjure up a response. My lips begin forming sounds before my brain can piece them together into an answer. This has to be a joke, a café in the back alley of all back alleys with no signs, windows, or decorations. She must be ill. There is no barista job, she just needs company serving her weird customers. If I wasn’t unbelievably desperate for a job, I wouldn’t even be considering it. I take a gulp of my water and clock Mae’s eyes glance at my tattoo that’s snuck out from under my sleeve.

“I accept. I’ll take the job.” I slam the glass down harder than intended and yank my sleeve so hard I almost rip the stitching. After recovering from the startle, her default state of smiling returns.

“Brilliant news! Can you start tomorrow morning?”.