Excerpt: The Demon's Daughter

‘Yeah, I’ve never been all that fond of dick myself. I’m more of a cock person.’ I rinsed the milk jug out and set it upside down on the drying rack.

Erin laughed. ‘I didn’t realise there was that much of a distinction.’

‘Oh, dick just sounds so high school. Cock, now, cock sounds a little but more mature.’

‘What’s wrong with penis?’

‘Way too clinical.’ The rack of pre-bagged beans was starting to look a little sparse; clearly whoever had closed last night hadn’t bothered to replenish it. Oh, wait, that was me. ‘You might as well be teaching grade five Health Ed if you’re going to say penis.’

Erin shook her head and started wiping the tables down, although they didn’t really need it and I wished she’d go turn the espresso machine on instead. ‘I don’t know how you find the time to do all this, Audz,’ she said, for about the fortieth time since I’d met her. ‘I’d go mad trying to juggle two jobs.’

‘You manage working here and doing uni. It’s the same thing.’

‘With a lot less income.’

‘True that. But then, that’s why I work two jobs.’

‘I suppose at least you don’t have to be on your feet for your other job.’

I chucked a bag of beans at her, which she caught. ‘You make it sound like I’m a prostitute or something. Don’t you dare say that shit when we have customers in here.’

‘No worries.’ She put the beans down on the counter and went around to – finally – get the espresso machine going. I did a quick check of the shop: the donations box was out on the counter next to the registers, the tables and chairs were in their right places for what was probably going to be the last time that day, there weren’t any homeless people squatting in the doorway for a change, the cup dispensers were all full (small, medium and large – none of that ‘venti’ and ‘grande’ shit at Mary Tyler, no sirree), the sugar packets and stirrers and plastic spoons were all in plentiful supply, and Erin was safely installed behind the counter where she could do the least damage.