𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐄𝐀 ✔︎ (ongoing)

|05| the truth

A few days pass and we enter the one week holiday. This is a good thing as I can work extra shifts at Nochard's Tea Shop. It took me ages to find out that the name Nochard is literally Noel and Richard's names put together.

I wake up at around nine in the morning, the sun seeping through the gap of the closed curtains and let out a yawn. I rub my eyes and try my best to open them to adjust to the new day.

Straight away, I slip out of bed and open my curtains then carelessly make my bed. I make my way to the bathroom and step into the shower.

The water is cool on my skin and seems to wake me up fully. Now, I feel more alert and refreshed.

I glance at the time when I leave the bathroom after brushing and flossing my teeth. It's twenty past nine so I have plenty of time to get ready before my morning shift at Norchard's Tea Shop.

I run my fingers through 2B curly hair, opting for a random, tousled style then quickly change into a tracksuit and put on my football boots. There's no specific uniform for working at Nochard's Tea Shop, but they do expect us to dress smartly. However, hopefully they'll let me off since I'm meeting up with my friends after my shift to play football in the park.

Before going downstairs to have my breakfast, I slip my phone into my pocket and stuff in some extra cash for the bus, just in case I'm tired when I want to go home.

As I unlock the door at the top of the stairs to go down, I notice that the tea shop is completely silent. Why are there no customers? Noticing this, I rush down the stairs and make my way into the kitchen to find Grandad sitting at the dining table, taking a sip of what looks and smells like strong, black coffee.

"Grandad? What's wrong?" I ask. "Where are all your customers?"

"The tea shop is closed for now," he replies. He's got dark bags around his eyes and keeps pouring coffee into his cup to the top after sipping once.

"Why?"

"It was all too much for me," he explains. "There were so many customers that I couldn't handle them all myself by taking orders, making and serving. I announced that the tea shop is closed for urgent, family reasons and that got everyone to leave, fortunately."

My blood boils like a kettle. "I keep telling you, Grandad, you need a couple of workers. Employ people. It's not that hard."

"Everything was fine when you were working with me, Francisco," he continues, taking another sip of his coffee and pouring some more into his cup. "And also, I cannot risk people finding out about the Holin herb. And the special spearmint ones that are about to run out."

I growl. "Herbs aren't special. They're just herbs." I avoid Grandad's eye to drain out the guilt.

"They are special. Why do you think I need to travel all the way to Morocco just to get some spearmint, then?"

I ignore his question, because it seems rhetorical. Then a new question pops up in my mind.

"Grandad, why are you drinking coffee? This is the first time I've seen coffee here."

"I've had it stored at the back of the cupboard for emergency reasons," he replies. "I don't want the spearmint herbs to run out."

"Then have regular tea with Holin herb," I suggest.

"It's not that simple, Francisco. Every time I drink tea now, it reminds me of the task I have to do. And that brings me stress."

"What task?" I question.

"The spearmint herbs. Going to Marrakesh."

I sigh. "Grandad, you're being overdramatic."

"I am anything but overdramatic," he says. He looks up at me and smiles. "Now, Francisco, why don't you sit with me and eat?"