an eye on her when Kevin was around. Pearl was just a bit of a kid, and as she was an orphan there was no knowing what sort of background she came from. There might be bad blood in her family and she was therefore totally unsuitable for her son.
‘Mo,’ Dolly shouted, ‘have you finished the spuds?’
‘Not yet, but I won’t be much longer.’
‘We’re all behind ’cos of your bleedin’ trip to the doctor’s. When you’ve finished, get on with the onions. There’s liver and bacon on the menu today so make sure you do enough.’
‘Yeah, all right, Dolly.’
It was quiet for a while as the women worked, Dolly placing the pork chops in the oven before laying out the pies ready for warming. Next she part-fried the liver, ready to be finished off with bacon when she got an order. There were only the sausages to get on now. So after vigorously forking them, Dolly placed them on a tray to cook later.
She glanced up at the clock. ‘Gertie, you’d better have your break, and you, Mo, get the spuds on.’
Mo placed the large pans on her cooker, added a generous amount of salt and lit the gas. ‘There, done, and once I’ve finished the onions I’ll get on with the cabbage and carrots.’
The Bakewell and apple pies had been delivered yesterday, and the custard already mixed, so after giving Gertie a bacon sandwich, the woman’s usual fare, Dolly took this opportunity to have a break too.
In the dining room there were only a few customers, but Dolly knew it was the calm before the storm. At lunchtime the place would be heaving and she hoped the new girl would cope. After a quick look at the tables, she sat down near the counter, her eyes now on Pearl.
Bernie was showing her how to make the tea, water pouring into the pot from the hot-water urn, a cloud of steam momentarily obscuring Pearl’s face. As it cleared, Dolly saw that the girl’s cheeks were pink from the heat, and she frowned, noticing for the first time how pretty she was. She hadn’t seen it when interviewing her, and wondered why.
As though suddenly aware that she was being observed, Pearl quickly lowered her head. That’s it, Dolly thought. It was her mouse-like demeanour, the way she kept her eyes down and her shoulders hunched.
‘As that tea is freshly made, you can pour me a cup and take a couple through to the kitchen for Mo and Gertie,’ she said, thankful that at least the girl wasn’t plastered with make-up. Kevin usually went for the obvious types, and had made a play for several of her previous waitresses. Of course, as soon as this happened she got rid of them, vowing never to employ a girl with looks again.
Had she made a mistake with Pearl? Yet as the girl came from behind the counter and carefully placed a cup of tea on the table, she doubted it. Once again she looked like a mouse, with a slim figure that was almost boyish. No, she definitely wasn’t Kevin’s type.
As the first lunchtime customers entered the café, Pearl took a deep breath in an effort to steady her nerves. She waited until they had sat down before approaching their table, trying to sound more confident than she felt. Her pad was poised.
‘What can I get you?’
‘Hello, who’s this?’ the costermonger asked his companion.
‘I dunno. Rita served me for breakfast. Has she left, darlin’?’
‘Yes, this morning. Now, what can I get you?’ Pearl asked again.
‘Blimey, she talks well, Charlie.’
‘Yeah, I’ll grant you that.’
The door opened again, four men walking to a nearby table and, seeing them, Pearl’s hands shook. She hadn’t taken this order yet, but already had to take another. ‘Please, what would you like?’
‘You on toast will do. Mind you, with the amount of meat on you I wouldn’t get much of a mouthful.’
Pearl reddened, relieved when the one called Charlie placed his order. ‘I’ll ’ave the steak-and-kidney pie, love.’
‘Yeah, I’ll ’ave the same.’
She scribbled it down, dashing to the kitchen, but as she laid the order on the table, Dolly spoke sharply. ‘What do you call this?’
‘It … it’s an order.’
‘There’s no table number on this slip, and this copy goes to the customer. If they’re paying separately they have a slip each. I have the bottom copy.’
‘I … I’m sorry. I’ll write it out again, but I don’t know if they’re paying separately.’
‘Make sure you ask next time.’
‘Yes, sorry.’ Then hurriedly leaving the kitchen, Pearl approached the table again, her head bowed.
‘I’m sorry, I forgot to ask if you’re paying separately for your meals.’
‘Yeah, but don’t worry, love. We’ll split the bill between us.’
‘Oh, thank you.’
‘Here, miss, are we getting served today?’
‘Yes, sorry,’ Pearl said as she went over to the other table, her head once again low and feeling that she had said nothing but ‘sorry’ since she started. She flushed as one of the men at the table began to sing.
‘“Pussycat, Pussycat, what did you there? I frightened a little mouse under her chair.”’
Bernard Dolby wandered over. ‘Give Pearl a chance, Frank. It’s her first day and she hasn’t done the job before.’
The man slowly scrutinised her and she held her breath, thankful when he finally said, ‘Liver and bacon for me.’
The other three men gave their orders and this time, asking if they were paying separately, she had to make out four slips. As she tore them off and handed them out, it seemed a daft idea to her. Why write separate orders for each customer? Surely there was a more efficient way? However, as the café began to fill she dismissed it from her mind, and after dashing to the kitchen with the orders she almost ran to the next table.
Having finished their meal, the four men on table five stood up. As they walked towards the counter, one beckoned to Pearl, saying, ‘Do you want a tip, love?’
She didn’t know what to say. Yes, she needed tips, but hadn’t expected to be asked.
‘Here’s a good tip for you. Have a bet on Imperial Lad running in the three thirty at Newmarket.’
All the men burst into laughter. ‘Gawd, that’s a good one, Frank.’
Humiliated but determined to hide it, Pearl went to clear their table. It was only as she picked up the last plate that she saw the threepenny bit underneath. Pearl looked up quickly,
