Revenge

Bathilda never left her house before the mailman came, so it must have been something big to give her cause to before the sunrise .

That's what the baristas were whispering about that morning. In London the sun didn't rise until 7:30, and the streetlights were still glowing feebly through the window of the small cafe as Bathilda dug her fork gently into the slice of chocolate cake sitting reverently before her.

Margot the barista stared in wonder at the sight of the old lady and the fork digging its way a little too slowly through the outer edge of the cake slice.

"She's waiting for something." her barista friend, Jamie, hissed at Margot as she flipped the switch on the coffee machine for a fresh brew.

Waiting for something indeed seemed likely. Every few seconds Bathilda's eyes drifted to the window and then back.

The baristas watched this pattern continue, and every once in a while Bathilda would take an indulgent bite of the cake, but only from the very edge of the cake, so that very much still remained after 45 minutes.

The usual morning customers came and left. No one talked to Bathilda, who was known as a quiet, church-going lady who only took her coffee at home.

Margot watched uneasily as Bathilda stuck her fork gently into the cake, and then carefully removed it without taking a bite. She gave her friend Jamie a meaningful look and said, "What's with this lady?"

"This woman used to come to the book club I'm in." Jamie said, "and I've never seen her here before."

"We don't even sell chocolate cake." Margot whispered earnestly, with a glance at the weak assortment of patisserie the small cafe offered, which certainly did not have any kind of chocolate cake.

"Do you think we should kick her out?" Jamie asked uneasily.

Margot stared at the lady, who looked a cross between angry and and sorrowful. Her face was covered by a large, tipped gray hat, and her lips were pinched beneath it.

"She certainly hasn't bought anything, but you be the first to talk to her." Margot answered with a meaningful raise of her eyebrow.

Jamie said nothing in response, and went back to wiping dishes dry.

They were spared the decision by the entrance of a man with a dog. Margot, whose eyes were still on Bathilda, noticed a shift in her posture- she seemed to stiffen, with fork in midair. Margot spared herself a glance at the man, who now shuffled toward the counter with a long cane- he was one of their regular early morning customers, and was completely blind. The dog panted happily, drifting from the man's side. Margot always thought the dog poorly trained. It was lolling behind, sniffing the air as the man walked up to the counter. Jamie had on a smile and was preparing to hand him his coffee.

There was a crash of breaking china.

Margot jumped, then saw the chocolate cake on the floor, next to Bathilda's table.

"Booster? Was that you?" The old man called, turning his head at the sound of the crash.

Bathilda was slowly pushing back her chair, making to get up and clean up the mess. Margot turned around to get a rag to help her, but when she turned back round, Bathilda was walking straight toward the door, leaving behind the mess and the old man, and the dog had its snout in the chocolate cake, eating eagerly.

Margot gasped. "Stop!" she shouted at the dog. Running around the counter, she yanked at the dog's collar, but he had already eaten half the cake. The jingle of bells sounded as the cafe door closed shut. The man felt felt his way over to her with his cane.

"What's happened?" he asked.

"Your dog got into a chocolate cake that was dropped." Margot dragged the dog's collar toward his owner, who grabbed it. "I think you should get your dog to the vet to get its stomach pumped.

Jamie came around the counter as well, but was staring outside. "I saw her drop it." she said, with a dark look at Margot.

"Who?" the old man asked.

"There was a lady in here." Margot supplied, "She was sitting down and her cake fell off the table, and your dog went straight for it." The dog was still wagging his tail happily, licking its lips.

"No." Jamie said. "She pushed her plate off the table. I saw her push it!" she said.

"Who was it?" asked the man.

"Bathilda." Jamie said. "I'm not sure of her last name, but I know of her."

The man took a sharp inhale, and then sighed gently.

"We had better call the police." Jamie said as Margot pulled out a chair for the old man to sit down in.

"No, no..." said the old man, who was rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand. "That was... very low of her, but I know why she would do that." he grimaced. "You see, Bathilda is my neighbor. She lives next door to me with her cat. We chat every day from our gardens. Three days ago, her cat got outside, and my dog here attacked her cat. I never heard if the cat was okay, because she hasn't spoken to me since. I've tried to apologize, but she shuts the door in my face." he shook his head. "Can't believe she didn't even say 'hi' to me when I came in here. I guess now I know why.... Are you sure this wasn't an accident?" he beseeched.

"I couldn't un-see that" Jamie said. She walked back behind the counter to get the man his coffee. "And she looked so menacing, sitting there in the dark. You know, she never even ordered a drink."

"She's been sitting here since we opened." Margot agreed. "Had that slice of cake, but barely touched it. Obviously she was waiting for something."

"Someone." Jamie corrected. She nudged the coffee into the man's hand.

The man took a sip of coffee, shook his head sadly, and then stood up. "I need to get Booster to the vet."

The man left with his dog, and the girls were left to sweep up the broken china in silence. The cafe remained empty.

Margot looked out the window where the woman had left, and the dawn sunlight was now revealing the shadows of the buildings across the street "Chocolate. Who knew it could be a weapon for revenge?"

Jamie leaned against her broom and wiped nervous sweat off her brow. "The real question is... If that sweet old lady just tried to kill someone's dog, what else is going on in this town under our noses?"