Ghost From The Past

Kieran wanted to do it right this time—we’d had enough wedding interruptions. Since business at the café was just taking off, I pleaded my case and asked him to push back the date. He relented. It was now the beginning of autumn. The punishing summer heat gave way to soothing cool breezes. As temperatures dropped, visitor numbers at Mo Chara picked up. I was tasting a new genoise cake created by our pastry chef when Maddison came into the kitchen, looking all flustered. The manager was red in the face, though it was hard to tell if it was from anger or humiliation. ‘Miss Finnegan, we have a situation.’ With some reluctance, I set down the fork and followed her out. ‘What’s wrong?’ ‘There’s a customer who’s upset about our coffee. Claims it’s subpar. Demands a refund.’ ‘You can handle that, surely.’ ‘She’s…quite a handful.’ ‘Okay.’ It was easy to spot the source. A man and a woman were seated at a corner booth with padded benches. Both were sunglasses. He was leaning back, looking right