love,’ the woman said as she spotted Pearl.
Dolly heaved a sigh. ‘Pearl, this is Mo, or Maureen Price, and she’s my vegetable cook. Now enough chat and let’s get on. Mo, you’ve been out for over an hour, so get on with the potatoes.’
With a smile at the harassed-looking woman, Pearl left the kitchen. ‘What do I do now?’ she asked Bernard.
‘It’ll be quiet until lunchtime and it’ll give me a chance to show you how things work behind the counter, but first you can refill the cruets.’
A couple of young women came in. ‘Two teas, please,’ one of them said, and turning to her companion she added, ‘Grab a table by the window so we can keep an eye on our prams.’
Pearl started on the first table, checking the condiments and filling those she found empty. It was hot, the sun blazing through the windows. Her throat was dry, but, too shy to ask for another drink, she carried on.
She had finished half of the tables when a door she had seen to the side of the counter opened, a tall, dark-haired young man appearing.
‘Any chance of a cup of tea, Dad?’
Bernie’s face darkened, but his voice was level as he said, ‘We’re still a waitress short and I could do with a hand later.’
‘Sorry, no can do. I’ve made other arrangements,’ and, picking up the cup of tea that his father had poured, he headed for the kitchen, pausing for a moment as he passed Pearl.
She kept her head down, moving to the front of the dining room, and couldn’t fail to hear the remarks made by the two young women sitting at a window table.
‘Cor, that Kevin Dolby’s a bit of all right.’
‘Yeah, and he certainly ain’t a chip off the old block. He looks nothing like Dolly or Bernard.’
‘If I wasn’t a married woman, I might be tempted.’
‘Leave it out. Your old man would skin you alive.’
‘Yeah, you’re right.’ Glancing out of the window, she added, ‘Sod it, we’d best be off. My baby’s waking up.’
As they hurried out, Pearl only had one table left to check and it was where the two elderly ladies sat. Smiling shyly at them, she picked up the salt pot, carefully removing the lid.
‘How are you getting on, dearie?’ one asked.
‘Fine,’ Pearl told her.
‘Just keep your head down and you’ll be all right. What’s your name?’
‘Pearl Button.’
‘Blimey,’ she said, unable to keep a straight face and echoing Dolly Dolby as she added, ‘Your parents must have a sense of humour.’
Pearl just nodded, and as she made to move away Kevin Dolby reappeared, taking a seat in the dining room. The old lady put a hand on her arm, whispering urgently, ‘Dolly Dolby can be a dragon, but she’s as soft as shit when it comes to her son. If you want to stay in her good books, take my advice and stay away from Kevin.’
Puzzled, Pearl now went to the counter, but she had hardly reached it when the kitchen bell rang. When she hurried to answer it, Dolly said, ‘Give that breakfast to my son.’
Pearl picked up the huge fry-up and carried it through to the dining room, her mouth salivating. It was nearly eleven, and with no breakfast that morning her stomach growled with hunger.
Nervously she placed the plate in front of Dolly’s son, relieved when, after giving her a cursory glance from hazel eyes, he went back to reading his newspaper, only murmuring, ‘Get me a couple of slices of bread.’
She went to the counter to find Bernard chalking a list of lunchtime meals onto a blackboard. There was steak-and-kidney pie, sausages and mash, pork chops, or liver and bacon. Apple or Bakewell tarts were added for pudding, along with custard. Once again Pearl’s mouth salivated, her stomach growling as she buttered the bread.
With more important things on his mind, Kevin hardly noticed the new waitress. He finished his breakfast, stood up and, leaving his empty plate on the table, went back to the kitchen.
‘Mum, can I have a word?’
‘What is it, love?’
‘Most of me mates have got cars, but I’m still riding a scooter.’
‘Blimey, Kevin, that Lambretta was a lot of money and you’ve only had it for a year.’
‘Yeah, I know, but I’ve been offered a lovely Vauxhall Wyvern for two hundred quid.’
‘Two hun—’
‘Listen, Mum,’ Kevin interrupted, ‘a new one would be five hundred and fifty, not forgetting the purchase tax. This one’s only a couple of years old and it’s a bargain.’
‘It’s still a lot of money, son.’
Please, Mum,’ Kevin wheedled. ‘All me mates have got cars now. Scooters are for kids.’
‘Kevin, I threw a big party for your twenty-first birthday and it cost me a pretty penny. Now you want money for a car. It doesn’t grow on trees, love.’
Kevin pouted, his expression for a moment that of a small boy. ‘Pleeease, Mum.’
‘I’ll think about it.’
He smiled secretly, knowing that with a bit more persuasion he’d get his own way. He could pull the asthmatic trick again, say it was due to the dust he breathed in when riding his scooter. That would give her a fright and with any luck she’d give in.
‘We could do with a hand at lunchtime.’
The smile left Kevin’s face. ‘I’ve got things to do, Mum. Can’t you manage without me?’
‘We’re a bit pushed. Rita walked out and the new girl’s inexperienced. I doubt she’ll cope with the lunchtime rush.’
Kevin knew what buttons to push. ‘From what I saw she’s doing all right, and I must say she ain’t bad-looking.’
‘She’s just a kid and far too young for you,’ Dolly snapped.
Pearl came in carrying Kevin’s empty plate, and as she placed it on the table he moved to her side, throwing an arm around her shoulder. ‘Hello, we haven’t been introduced.’
The girl flushed, looking up at him with wide, brown eyes, her words sounding breathless as she said, ‘Er … hello.’
‘Kevin, we can manage without you,’ Dolly said hurriedly.
He smiled inwardly. ‘Thanks, Mum. I’ll see you around tea time.’
‘Don’t stand there gawking, Pearl. Get back to your work!’
‘Yes. Sorry,
