Read Family Drama 4 E-Book Bundle Online
Authors: Pam Weaver
Bernie exhaled loudly. He sympathised with the girl, but knew what Dolly would say if she saw the mess. He came out from behind the counter, saying with a placatory note in his voice, ‘Come on, if I give you a hand they’ll be cleared in no time.’
The girl heaved a sigh, but began stacking the plates on table two as Bernie started on the next one.
Dolly stuck her head out of the kitchen door. ‘Rita, get me a cup of tea.’
‘I’m busy,’ she replied shortly.
Bernie held his breath, but knew what was coming as his wife marched into the room.
‘What did you say?’
‘You heard me. I’ve been rushed off my feet since six thirty this morning. These tables need clearing and I ain’t had a break yet. If you want a cup of tea, I don’t see why you can’t get it for yourself.’
Dolly’s face suffused with colour as she glared at the girl. ‘You, miss, are on a week’s notice.’
‘Huh, is that a fact? Well, sod your week’s notice. I’m going now and you can stick your bleedin’ job.’
Dolly’s jaw dropped as Rita ripped off her apron,
threw it on a table and then marched out of the café, only to reappear moments later to grab her handbag from under the counter. Briefly she glowered at them both, but then as a parting shot, before slamming the door behind her, she spat, ‘Do you know something, Dolly Dolby? You’re a miserable old cow and I ain’t surprised you can’t keep a waitress for more than five minutes.’
For a moment there was a shocked silence, but then Bernie sighed heavily, turning to his wife. ‘Now you’ve gone and done it. How are we supposed to manage the lunches?’
‘I’ll get Kevin down here to do the counter. You’ll have to do the serving.’
Bernie, knowing what a lazy young bugger their son was, said with a doubtful shake of his head, ‘I don’t think he’ll take kindly to that. And anyway, he’s probably still in bed.’
The bell pinged and both glanced towards the door again as a young woman came in, her head low as she looked at them shyly from under her lashes. She was a small, mousy-looking creature, wearing a shapeless, grey cotton dress that hung on her tiny frame. Straight, light brown hair sat on her shoulders, parted at the side and fastened with a slide.
For a moment they gazed at her. Then, gathering his thoughts, Bernard asked, ‘What can I get you, love?’
‘I … I saw the notice in the window for a waitress.’
‘Oh, right, then you’d best speak to my wife.’
Dolly took in a great gulp of air, her eyes momentarily looking heavenward before she spoke. ‘I’ve just lost a waitress so your timing is perfect. Sit down,’ she offered, her voice unusually soft.
Bernie listened as his wife began to question the girl. She had arrived at an opportune moment, but she looked so slight that a puff of wind could blow her over.
‘Right, what’s your name?’
‘Pearl Button.’
‘Blimey, your parents must have a sense of humour.’
The girl’s voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. ‘I … I’m an orphan. When I was left on the orphanage steps, they found a tiny button clutched in my hand. That’s how I got the name.’
‘Gawd, if it wasn’t so tragic, it’d be funny. Anyway, how old are you?’
‘I’m sixteen, but I’ll be seventeen in October.’
‘Speak up, girl, I can hardly hear you. How old did you say you are?’
‘I said I’m sixteen.’
‘Christ, you’re just a kid. Have you been a waitress before?’
‘Er … no, but I can start straight away, and I’m
quick at picking things up,’ she said, for a moment her expression animated.
Dolly brushed some crumbs from the table, obviously thinking it over as Bernie urged, ‘Give her a try, love.’
He watched as his wife continued to ponder, but it seemed that need overcame her doubts. With a small nod she said, ‘All right, the job’s yours. It’s Tuesday, but if you really are willing to start straight away, we’ll give you a full week’s wage on Saturday.’
‘Oh, thank you,’ Pearl said, and as she smiled for the first time Bernie saw a flash of beauty. The girl had an elfin face with a pointed chin. Huge brown eyes seemed to take up most of her face, but they were hidden again as she lowered her head.
‘You don’t know what the hours are, so don’t thank me yet. Your shift will start at six thirty in the morning, ending at three thirty in the afternoon. You’ll get an hour for lunch between eleven and twelve.’
‘That’s all right. And … and the pay?’
‘You’re only sixteen so it’s two quid a week. Until we get another waitress I’ll give you a bit extra, and you should pick up some tips too.’
‘That’s fine.’
‘Hearing you speak it’s obvious that you don’t come from these parts. Where do you live?’
‘I have a bedsit over an empty shop further along the High Street.’
‘Don’t tell me you’re renting one of Nobby Clark’s rooms?’
‘Well, yes, my landlord is Mr Clark.’
Bernie and Dolly exchanged glances, both knowing what a dodgy character the young man was. The premises had been left to him by an aunt, but he had run the grocery shop into the ground. He had a reputation for shady deals, and some said that letting the upstairs rooms was just a front for his other activities.
Sixteen, Bernie thought, the kid is only sixteen and living alone in one of Nobby’s grotty bedsits. As he coughed she looked up at him, her vulnerability making him swallow. God, once Dolly showed her true character the girl wouldn’t last five minutes. He forced a smile, saying kindly, ‘Well, love, if you can start straight away I’ll show you the ropes, but first, how about a nice cup of tea?’
‘Make it a quick one,’ Dolly said sharply. ‘This place looks like a bomb’s hit it and I want it cleared ready for the lunchtime rush. While you’re at it, Bernie, you can pour a cup of tea for me and Gertie. Pearl can bring it through to the kitchen and I’ll introduce her to Gertie before I start on the lunches.’
Bernie moved behind the counter, and when
his wife was out of earshot he decided that if they wanted to keep this waitress, it wouldn’t hurt to put her in the picture. He beckoned Pearl forward, handing her a tray with three cups on it. ‘Now listen, love. Before you take these through to the kitchen I should warn you that my wife can be a bit sharp at times. It’s just her way, but it’s lost us a few waitresses in the past. My best advice is to ignore her if she’s in a bad mood, and for Gawd’s sake, don’t answer her back.’
For a moment Pearl appeared disconcerted, whilst Bernie hoped he hadn’t put his foot in it. They needed a new waitress desperately, but now he might have scared her off.
Her amazing eyes were wide as she looked at him, but then with a faint smile she said, ‘Thanks for warning me.’
Bernie watched her as she walked to the kitchen, thinking it was like seeing Daniel going into the lions’ den. Yet there wasn’t only Dolly to contend with, there were the costermongers too. Rita, with her dyed blonde hair, thick make-up and hardened appearance, had given as good as she got, enjoying their ribald jokes. Pearl, on the other hand, looked as innocent as a lamb and he doubted she’d cope. They were a good crowd really, who looked after their own, and maybe he could tip them the wink, asking them to lay off the girl.
He’d start with Derek Lewis. The man might look like a hard nut, but underneath Bernie knew he had a soft spot for waifs and strays – a category that Pearl Button certainly fitted into.
Pearl had been introduced to Gertie, drunk her tea and, now doing her utmost to take in what Mr Dolby was saying, she was back in the dining room.
‘Right, Pearl, give me a hand to clear these tables. I’ll explain what you have to do as we go along, though it ain’t hard. Take the customer’s order and write it on a slip, along with the table number.’
‘Table number?’
‘Yes,’ Bernie said, pointing to a block of wood next to a cruet set on which a number was painted boldly in red. ‘Leave the top copy with the customer, and the carbon copy goes to the kitchen. Always ask if they want tea and bread and butter with their meal because we make a good profit on those. Dolly will ring a bell when the order is ready so make sure you listen for it. Have you got that?’
‘Yes, I think so.’
‘Good. Now as soon as a customer leaves, make sure you clear the table ready for the next one.
Take the dirty plates to the kitchen and give the table a quick wipe down.’
Pearl already felt bemused.
‘Don’t look so worried. Once you get the hang of it you’ll be fine. Oh, yes, I forgot to mention cutlery. You’ll find knives and forks over there on that trolley,’ Bernie pointed.
The door opened and two elderly ladies bustled in, pausing as they took in the scene. ‘Blimey, don’t tell me you’ve lost yet another waitress.’
‘I’m afraid so, Ena.’
‘It’s just as well you keep your wife out the back or you’d lose all yer customers too,’ the other lady chuckled.
‘Yeah, I think you’re right. Now what can I get you?’
‘Just two cups of tea, please.’
‘Pearl, take those plates to the kitchen,’ Bernie said, with a wave of his arm, ‘and then finish the rest of the tables.’
Pearl picked up the stack, hurrying away. Nerves made her hands shake, the cutlery on top rattling and sliding in an alarming manner. With relief she placed them on the large wooden table at the entrance to the washing-up room, glancing through to see Gertie giving her a wide grin. The woman’s sparse, reddish hair was moist from the steam rising from the sink, her face shiny with perspiration.
‘Is that the lot?’ she asked.
‘I’ve only got two more tables to clear.’
‘Thank gawd for that. I’ll just about finish the washing-up before the lunchtime rush starts.’
‘Yeah, so stop talking and get on with it!’ Dolly snapped.
Pearl had just cleared the last two tables, taking the crockery through to the kitchen, when the back door to the yard opened.
‘Sorry I took so long, Dolly,’ a short stocky woman said as she rushed in. ‘The waiting room was packed and it was ages before I saw the doctor. Mind you, it was a waste of time. He reckons I’m just a bit run down and said I should take a tonic. Tonic indeed! I tried to tell him that it’s more than that, but he wouldn’t listen.’
‘Christ, another Mrs Neverwell. I don’t know why I put up with you and Gertie.’
‘Hello, 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?’