The Little Board Game Cafe

But first, the books.

You’re firing me? Seriously?’
Emily slumped back in the chair and folded her arms.
‘I wouldn’t say firing, exactly.’ He pressed his hands together in a prayer-like pose under his chin and fixed her with a steely gaze. ‘With regret, I am making you redundant.’
‘With regret? That’s what Lord Sugar always says in The Apprentice, when he fires people.’
‘It isn’t personal. We’re having to let a few people go.’
She stood up. ‘How? How can this not be personal?’
‘Do you think you could keep your voice down a little, please? We don’t want everyone to hear now, do we?’ He stood up too and walked past her to the windows that separated his private office from the rest of the open-plan area. She turned to watch as he closed the venetian blinds, obliterating the view of Annie from Accounts who was staring, open-mouthed. Annie would probably put a glass to the wall if she thought she could get away with it. Not that you needed a glass with these walls; they were paper-thin.
He turned back to Emily, put a hand on

In her imagination, she’d wandered the streets of Montmartre, sipped coffee in a tiny café beside the Seine and sniffed the lightly scented roses in the Jardin des Tuileries.

her imagination, she’d wandered the streets of Montmartre, sipped coffee in a tiny café beside the Seine and sniffed the lightly scented roses in the Jardin des Tuileries.

book would cheer her up. Emily loved the kind of books that made her feel inspired to take up a new hobby or go on an adventure. Of course, she never actually took up the hobby or went on the adventure

And now she was officially joining the ranks of the unemployed…well, it was the perfect excuse.

now she was officially joining the ranks of the unemployed…well, it was the perfect excuse.

She’d been here a few years and still felt like an outsider.

Somewhere that would be the beating heart of a community.

She liked quirky men. Men whose ambition was to live on a narrowboat or who grew their own organic vegetables on their allotments. The sort of men who’d buy an old van and spend every spare minute converting it into a beautiful camper, and when it was finally finished, would drop everything to spend a month touring round the Highlands of Scotland. Geeky men who knew random facts like how far Jupiter was from Pluto or how many service stations there were on the M6. Men who collected unusual things like antique beer bottles or railway memorabilia. Men who wore interesting spectacles and their hair in a ponytail or had a mop of corkscrew curls.