The Complement Shop

No one will believe me anyway, but I need to tell this story to someone. So, I’ve decided to tell you. Please don’t ask me why, but I’ve gone on instinct, and you seemed like the right person. Oh well, here goes then....

It began a while ago now, maybe six months or so. I was on my way to work, and as you know, I’ve never been the most punctual person in the world. Surprise, surprise, I was running late. I was half running, half walking and noticed this small little cafe. I must have flown past this establishment loads of times and not once noticed it. I decided to give my normal coffee stop a miss and get my morning pick-me-up from here instead. The name caught my eye for some reason - ‘The Complement Shop’. Anyway, in I went.

As I tentatively opened the door, it struck an inner bell which announced my arrival to all and sundry. I stepped through and was taken aback by how busy it was. Everyone seemed perfectly comfortable, no rushing around, lots of chatter and laughter. Not being the most confident person of late, I timidly made my way to the counter, whereupon an old gent beamed a mesmerising smile to greet me. He was balding yet made up for that with the most fabulous white sideburns and magnificent matching whiskers you could ever wish to see. He was a very dapper chap; smartly dressed in a blinding white shirt, brown dicky bow, brown tweed waistcoat, pristinely pressed brown trousers finished off with twinkling brown leather brogues.

‘Good morning to you, sir. How may I be of service?’

‘Er......just an Americano to take out, please?’

‘Certainly, Sir. Would you like any sugar with that?’

‘No thanks, just the coffee please.’

‘That is no problem whatsoever, Sir. One moment.’

He turned his back to me and began to make my beverage, which allowed me to survey the surroundings. The decor was nicely done; a world of well-used mahogany filled my eyes. The walls were all done with a classic art-deco wallpaper, seemingly celebrating the joy of pearls in my mind. Scattered around were numerous green lamps that reminded me of American libraries. The natural lighting was bright in places where the sun shone through, but also provided were a few darker areas where you could be discreet if required. It all felt a touch antiquated. Eventually, I turned back to speak to the old fella.

’Excuse me?’

‘Yes, sir?’

‘How long has the shop been here?’

‘Oh, a long time, sir; we have been here to serve our customers for a fair while now.’

‘That’s strange. I don’t ever recall seeing you till rather recently. Today, in fact.’

‘Oh well, sir. Perhaps you had other things to think about, possibly rushing to and fro and maybe focused on your own thoughts?’

‘Er, yeah. Quite possibly.’

‘Will that be all, sir?’

‘Yes, I think so, thank you.’

‘My pleasure, and would you like anything to complement your coffee, sir?’

‘Oh, er, ok. I’ll have one of those cookies, please.’

‘Of course, sir.’ He handed me my drink and cookie, and I paid.

‘Have a pleasant day now, and please come and visit us again.’

‘Er yeah, thank you. Bye.’

‘Bye bye for now, sir.’

And so that was pretty much that. I remember on the way out seeing lots of people smiling at me with the occasional nod of the head in acknowledgement. They all seemed genuinely happy to see me for some reason; well, that’s how I felt anyway. It was weird, but it made me feel welcome, a nice feeling really. Anyway, off I went to work, and as you know, when you get there, you tend to get on with the job at hand. Now and then, though, my mind kept drifting back to ‘The Complement Shop’.

That night, as I strolled home and walked past the cafe again, I glimpsed in and saw loads of people in there. I mean, it looked seriously inviting. I decided against going in as I wanted to get back for something to eat. God knows why I decided to go back, though; yeah, great, back to an empty flat and all those bloody memories. It had been around half a year, give or take, since Jess had gone. It had taken its toll on me, and I knew that I had been hit pretty hard; my confidence was shot, and I was finding it tough to get back on my feet. I was going to work for sanity, to think about something else and of course, to pay the rent. I knew I had lost a lot of weight and was boozing a bit, but I forgave myself given my circumstances at the time.

So, the next morning, I popped in again. Everyone smiled at me, some giving a nod again, even a little wave. I even recognised one or two from the day before and shyly returned the nods and waves. I went to the counter to be greeted with another sunshine smile.

‘Good morning to you, sir. Americano, wasn’t it?’

‘Yes, that would be great, thanks.’

‘And how are you today, sir? I hope you’re well?’

‘Yes, I’m fine, thank you.’

‘Marvellous, sir, here’s your beverage.’

‘That’s great, thank you.’

‘Absolutely no problem, sir. I noticed you last night on your way home - peering in. Please feel free to pop in anytime. We are open to whoever needs us.’

‘Er, yes, er, ok, I might just do that.’

‘Would you like anything to complement your coffee, sir?’

‘Oh, er, sure, I’ll have a banana, please.’

‘That’s fine, sir. Here we are.’

I paid him the money.

‘Have a good day now.’

‘Yes, er and you? Thanks, bye for now then.’

‘Goodbye, sir.’

I made my way to leave and was warmed inside by the smiles, nods and waves I received upon my exit. And so, I went off to work again. Yet, again at work, my mind wandered back to this cafe and the effect it was having on me. It made me feel positive when I went in and gave me an inner confidence that had been previously lacking. It was weird, but it made me feel good about myself.

That evening I decided to stop by and grab something at the cafe on my way home. I looked inside, and the inviting light revealed almost familiar smiling, joyous faces. I couldn’t resist and stepped in. As seemed to be the norm, everyone smiled at me with lots of hellos and waves. This little place made me feel so comfortable, so at home; it was remarkable. After waves, nods and hellos, I got to the counter to be greeted by the old gent.

‘Hello, sir. What a pleasure to see you again. How may I be of service this fine, clement evening?’

‘Americano please.’

‘To take out, sir?’

‘Yes please.’

‘Won’t be a tick, sir.’

‘Seems busy tonight. Is it always like this?’

‘Most evenings it would seem to be like this, sir. We stay open for any of our customers as long as they need us.’

‘What! All night?’

‘Why yes, sir. Is that not the purpose of a shop, to serve its customers?’

‘Well, I suppose so, but when do you ever get any rest?’

‘I get energy and take pleasure in helping my customers in any way I can. This is what fuels me and keeps me tickety-boo.’

‘Right, er, sure, ok. Well, I’ll see you then.’

‘Anything to complement your beverage, sir?’

‘Oh, go on then, I’ll have one of those blueberry muffins please.’

‘Of course, here we are. Thank you, sir. Take care.’

And so, I made my way to leave, and it felt like the whole place smiled and waved at me. I walked home, feeling fabulous and smiling to myself, already looking forward to tomorrow. I don’t even know what triggered it, to be honest, but that night, I reverted to type.

Life had been hard for me since I was on my own, and clearly, I was still trying to get over it. This setback came like a bolt out of the blue; I had been doing so well recently that I was slightly taken aback. I just woke in the night and began crying like a baby. It made me angry. Why now? Why was I still going through this nonsense? It wasn’t fair. I tried going back to sleep but gave up after a restless half an hour or so. My mind just wouldn’t let go, thinking, thinking, thinking. Knowing that I wouldn’t sleep for the rest of the night, I got dressed and put the kettle on. At this point, I had a thought - why be here on my own, thinking all the bloody time and having a brew on my own? I found myself outside ‘The Complement Shop’ before I knew it. The lights were on.

I tested the door, half-expecting it to be locked, but it moved with ease. It was quiet now, just a few people scattered about here and there. One or two looked up with a half-hearted smile; most seemed to prefer to keep to themselves. The atmosphere was different from my previous visits, not quite as bubbly, a lot quieter and subdued.

‘Ah, sir, a good evening to you.’

‘Hi there, bit quieter from before.’

'Tis late, sir, so obviously that is to be the case.’

‘Of course, silly thing to say.’

‘Not at all. Would you like a drink, sir?’

‘Yes please, I think a tea please for a change.’

‘Of course, sir, and will you be sitting in?’

‘Yes, why not, thanks.’

‘And anything to complement your tea, sir?’

‘Maybe just a biscuit, please.’

‘No problem, sir.’

He brought me my cup of tea and biscuit, and I gave him the money.

‘Sorry, why are you open at this time? You’ve been open all day.’

‘I am always open to my customers, sir. If any of my customers need me, then I am here for them no matter the time. Time isn’t the most precious thing in the world, sir; there is something of greater importance.’

‘Ok, such as?’

‘Why companionship, sir - being with friends, feeling welcome, feeling at home, feeling comfort, feeling loved. If I can provide any of these treasures to one of my customers, then I have done a good day's work. Please, take, for example, the young lady sitting over there in the corner. She has been here several times over the last few nights, and my mind is at rest knowing that she is safe and that she is not on her own. She may have a lot on her plate, but I know that she is comfortable here, hence why she returns.’

I looked over at her. She looked kind of low, and I just knew I had to talk to her. I know it sounds mad, but I just knew I had to do it! Unexpectedly, a well-concealed confidence took off its camouflage, and I walked over.

‘Do you mind if I join you?’

She looked up, slightly surprised. ‘No, no, not at all.’

‘Thanks.’

She had brown hair, tied back in a ponytail and wore a black hoodie with jeans and trainers. There and then, I decided she was very pretty as she looked at me hesitantly through green eyes. God only knows how I looked after just putting on any old scruffs on and with my sandy hair all over the shop to give a winning impression of a guy that couldn’t give a toss. Anyway, sod it, it was too late now.

I held out my hand. ‘Hi, I’m Bob.’

‘Hi there, I’m Maggie.’ We shook.

‘Sorry for being nosey, but can’t sleep - or do you work late?’

‘Can’t sleep.’

‘Me neither.’

‘Don’t you find it a bit odd that this place is open at this time of night?’

‘God, yeah. I’ve been here for the last three nights, to be honest, and he’s always open! He told me that he’s always open for his customers no matter what. They seem to be incredibly important to him. Personally, I think he’s amazing.’

‘Yeah, I know what you mean. He said the same thing to me, great bloke. I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d come down and see if he was actually open and hey presto.’

We both looked up, and he seemed oblivious that we were discussing him. He just went about his business, wiping everything down, making everything shipshape. Oddly, I noticed that everyone else seemed to have paired off: men with women, men with men and women with women. The shopkeeper smiled contentedly, and maybe it was just me, but he seemed to have a little twinkle in his eye.

‘So, sorry for asking, but I was just wondering why you couldn’t sleep? Maybe I could help? Er, like talking to a stranger is gonna help, ha ha.’

‘Oh, you know, things on my mind, thinking a bit too much. Just need to stop staring at the same four walls, y’know?’

‘Yeah, I get it. I’m the same, drives you nuts, doesn’t it? Just gotta get out and take your mind off things, do something, anything.’

‘That’s exactly it. I feel comfortable here, kind of welcome.’

‘Yeah, I do. I honestly don’t recall ever noticing this place up until a few days ago.’

‘Me too! I came in, and everyone was just smiling at me - it didn’t feel false, though, as if people were taking the mickey out of me. I didn't have a problem with it.’

‘Same! It’s the weirdest feeling when I come in here. It’s like, I dunno, it’s like, it’s specifically designed for you, to give you a boost and make you feel better about yourself. As though there’s something more to life than just staying in all night and doing nothing apart from thinking about stupid things that you’ve been over a million times. When you come in here, it’s the opposite of how you're feeling. It makes you feel alive, makes you feel as though you have something worthwhile to give, and when I leave, I end up talking to myself in a different way. I end up kinda actually liking myself. I know this sounds stupid, but that’s how I feel!’

‘Yeah, it’s like it’s just for people who are having a bad time or something. You feel this overwhelming pull to come back here, as though it’s implanted into the back of your head. It seems to be on the fringes of my mind all the time. I feel like I’ve been to see a therapist or a counsellor or something after being here.’

‘Ha, ha, yeah, you’re absolutely right.'

And, well, we carried on talking till the sun came up. We had loads in common; she was funny, entertaining, and I could only guess what she looked like when she was done up, utterly stunning, I imagined. She was easy to talk to, and I can only say it was one of the happiest nights of my life. We left at the same time and agreed to meet later that night after work, but somehow, god knows how, I had agreed to cook for us both at mine. I felt dynamic, energised; tiredness didn’t even come into it. I went home, showered, then danced to work, feeling on top of the world.

We met at about 6ish that night at ‘The Complement Shop’ for what would turn out to be our last drink there. I boldly walked in on a high, wearing a newly ironed shirt, jeans and my favourite, comfortable scruffy shoes. People smiled, said hello and waved, and I greeted them like old pals. Maggie sat at the same corner table with a drink, waving at me, waiting. She looked beautiful, minimal make-up, lustrous hair down around her shoulders, dressed in a black shirt with black trousers and black shoes - understatedly gorgeous. She made to get up and join me at the counter. And lo and behold, there he was.

‘Good evening, sir. How are you today?’

‘I’m really good, thanks. How are you?’

‘Me, sir? Why, if you are really good, then I am really good as well, thank you for asking. And what would you like to drink today?’

‘Americano to take out, please.’

‘Of course, sir, and would you like anything to complement that?’

‘Not today; I think I have all I need to complement it, thank you.’

At this point, Maggie joined me and intertwined her arm through mine.

‘Indeed, sir - the correct answer. Will that be all, sir? Madam?’

‘Yes, thank you,’ we said in unison.

‘Well, I will bid you a fond farewell. Have a most pleasant evening.’

‘Thank you, and you.’

‘Oh, I will, sir, I will.’

We left, and as I looked back, he gave me a little wink combined with a knowing smile.

Well, you know that I’ve been with Maggie for ages now, and since that night, neither of us has ever seen ‘The Complement Shop’ again. I don’t get it! It’s bizarre! I just thought I had to tell someone other than Maggie, as I don’t understand it and neither does she. I just wanted to let you know that if you’re ever going through a crisis in your life and you see a coffee shop that springs out of nowhere, then go in! Make sure that you go in! It could be the best thing you ever do!