Emily was a waitress who hated her job. Every day she would stand with her tray and stare at the large ornate clock that hung above the main entrance, waiting until the minutes finally ticked down to closing time. Lights out, peace and quiet, time to relax, it was all she ever wanted. Days would flitter by in the restaurant, each one feeling exactly the same as the one that preceded it. It was a swish place, with all the staff dressed like penguins and trained to the absolute pinnacle of customer service. The floor was marble, the walls glass, practically windows, with a view of an immaculate garden. But none of this excited Emily. It wasn’t good enough for her to be the longest serving and most respected waitress at the most renowned restaurant in town. All she cared about was standing and waiting for her shift to end, her face stone as the seconds finally drained away to one am.

 

“See you tomorrow, Emily.”

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“Have a nice night, Emily.”

 

“Keep up the good work, Emily,” some people would say as the filed out the door and went their separate ways. Emily wouldn’t even blink. It wasn’t that she didn’t care about them. It was the simple dread of knowing, that upon opening the next day, she would back here doing the same thing again. And just when things seemed like they would continue to go about their usual ways, things began to change for Emily the waitress.

 

It was a cold afternoon at Emily’s Restaurant and, as per usual, Emily was standing in her favourite spot, watching the clock slowly grind the hours away. Nearby, a customer had accidentally spilt a bowl of pumpkin soup all over himself, causing a nearby Labrador to have a field day licking it off his crotch. The dog had taken two of the head waiters to be dragged away from the man who had repeatedly cried “mummy” throughout the whole ordeal. For most people working in hospitality, an accident like this would have brought a bit of pleasure into their lives, a bit of variation, but Emily hadn’t even batted an eyelid the whole time. She wasn’t interested in events that other waiters considered to be the highlights of their day.

 

“Hoo wee!” exclaimed a manager who was standing beside her, watching the cleanup process begin, “anything to break up the monotony, hey Em?”

 

Emily just smiled back in response.

 

“Yeah, you get what I mean.”

 

Once the poor customer had been cleaned up and the place had returned back to normal, the excitement of someone else’s misfortune growing old now amongst the staff and customers, Emily was surprised to find someone blocking her view of the clock.

 

“Hello there,” said the stranger, sidling up and placing a large hand on her shoulder, “well aren’t you just gorgeous.”

 

Emily smiled awkwardly back at the stranger with her usual twinkle in her eye. For the first time ever since she’d started work, she felt like she might drop her tray.

 

The stranger examined her a while as Emily held her smile and kept her eyes locked on the stranger’s gaze.

 

“Why don’t we get you out of here? Get you doing something else, what do you say?” asked the stranger after a full minute had ticked by on the large clock.

 

Emily was lost for words. No one had ever asked her to leave work before.

 

“You don’t have to answer that now,” continued the stranger, taking a few steps back and flashing her a grin, “I’ll give you some time to think about it and if you’re interested I’ll meet you back here, at this spot, later, deal?”

 

Emily didn’t know what to say, she just smiled dumbly at the stranger as he chuckled to himself.

“I thought as much. I’ll see you later, Emily.”

 

For the rest of the shift, Emily couldn’t wait for the clock to tick down to closing. A restlessness she’d never experienced before filled her limbs with a ferocious intensity, yet she remained standing, holding her tray obediently until finally the time came. She was nervous. When would the stranger be back?

 

“Catch you tomorrow, Emily,” came the usual chorus from the rest of the staff as they filed out of the door and into the night. But Emily stayed behind, determined to see the stranger again, keen to escape this place she’d worked in for so long. The manager was the last to leave and he stopped and placed a hand on her shoulder as he wandered past.

 

“You do a good job here, Emily. You take it easy tonight, ok?”

 

Emily smiled as the manager turned and hit the lights.

 

As the keys clinked in the door, Emily stood, rigid and finally alone. For the first time in her life, she felt alive as she waited anxiously for her mysterious stranger to return and save her. Hours began to tick by but Emily did not budge. She was getting cold and she hoped that the clock was lying to her. If she waited much longer it would be opening time again and she would have to wait during the whole hustle and bustle of the working day she now dreaded. A whole night of relaxation had been wasted.

 

As the early hours of morning began to tick by, and her smile slowly began to look fake, there suddenly came the sound of glass shattering nearby. Emily stood dead still and tried not to draw attention to herself. For the first time ever, she felt scared.

 

A minute passed on the large clock in front of her and Emily slowly allowed herself to relax as much as she dared, her tray still gripped tightly in her hand. She couldn’t be certain, but it kind of felt as if someone was watching her from the shadows.

 

“I thought I might still find you here,” came a familiar voice after another minute had ticked by, “are you ready?”

 

Emily was nervous and she took a final moment to look about the place she’d been working in ever since opening day. She had to admit, a part of her would miss greeting the customers in the morning with her signature warm smile.

 

“Ok, doll,” said the stranger, gently stroking her arm, “time to go.”

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*

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It was a warm day up in the hills above Emily’s restaurant and Emily smiled as she stood on the deck of a fine mansion, soaking in the sunshine and admiring the view across the lush, green garden. She was finally free. Never before had she felt the sun on her body like this, and for once in her life the tray she held in her hand no longer felt like a burden. On a TV nearby was excited chatter as a news anchor shuffled his papers and cleared his throat.

 

“In other news,” he began in the usual monotone that all reporters seem to have, “the famous statue of Emily was stolen from Emily’s restaurant last night after thirty years of faithfully greeting customers at one of the most popular restaurants in the state. Many are sad to see her go and we hope, that wherever she may be now, she is being well looked after. If you have any news on her whereabouts, please phone the following number...”

 

Emily continued to stand and smile out over the garden and valley below, her eyes twinkling. No more would she have to wait for a clock to tick away the hours till she could have peace. She was free. This mansion was her new home now and she hoped that’s how it would always be.