by Kitty Neale
Derek tousled the nearest boy’s head. ‘Right, let’s get you lot sorted. Jimmy and Bill, you do some skipping, and, Ricky, get your gloves on ready for a spar when the ring is clear.’
They all ran to do his bidding and he smiled. They were good kids, better off in the gym than running the streets.
Jimmy, though he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, was Derek’s favourite, a kid he was sure he had turned round. The lad had hesitantly entered the gym six months ago, and it hadn’t taken Derek long to learn that the boy was regularly beaten by his drunken father. He’d been running wild on the streets, rebelling, nicking stuff off stalls, but coming to the gym had changed all that. At first he’d seen the boy taking his anger out on the punch bag, but gradually he had grown in confidence.
Yes, Jimmy was a lot happier now, especially since Derek had taken it upon himself to have a quiet word in his father’s ear.
The following morning, Pearl was dashing along the High Street. Some costermongers were already setting up, and as she passed Derek Lewis he raised his hand to wave.
His stall was half ready, piled with china, and Pearl looked at some of the sets with interest. Maybe in another couple of weeks she could buy cups and saucers to replace the old chipped ones she’d inherited with the room.
She reached the café, rushing inside to see Bernie behind the counter as usual. ‘Hello, love,’ he said cheerfully. ‘I’ve just made a pot so do you want a cuppa before you start?’
‘Yes, please,’ she said, taking her apron from the hook and tying it around her waist.
‘Here you are then, and take this one through to Dolly.’
Pearl took the cup, careful not to slop any tea in the saucers. It was something she knew Dolly Dolby hated, and had felt the sting of her tongue the first time the tea had over-spilled.
Gertie didn’t start work until seven, and Mo nine, so there was only her employer in the kitchen.
‘Good morning, Mrs Dolby,’ she said, hoping that the woman was in a good mood.
‘Morning,’ Dolly said shortly, adding, ‘I thought I told you to tie your hair back.’
‘I’m just about to do it,’ Pearl said, hurriedly fishing for the elastic band in her apron pocket.
‘Get it done and go back to the dining room. It won’t be long before the breakfast rush starts.’
Pearl scrapped her hair back, hopes dashed. Mrs Dolby was obviously in a foul humour, and she dreaded the rest of the day. When her employer was in a good mood – if any of her moods could be called good – the job was easier, but when bad-tempered, like today, she would build mountains out of molehills, making all their lives a misery.
She went back to the dining room, and as she swiftly drank her tea, Bernie gave her a sympathetic smile.
‘I can see by your face that you’ve found Dolly with the hump. It’s Kevin’s fault. He didn’t come home until one in the morning on Saturday and he was out all hours last night too. Dolly was out of her mind with worry.’
‘One o’clock in the morning! My goodness.’
‘Yeah, and God knows what the young tyke was up to.’
Pearl wondered too, but then the café began to fill with costermongers, all ready for large breakfasts. They took it in turns, watching each other’s pitches, but even so, the café was soon packed.
Derek Lewis came in at eight, but ordered only two bacon sandwiches to take away.
‘No breakfast this morning?’ Pearl asked.
‘My gran’s a bit under the weather so I’m popping home to give her one of these. Frank’s keeping an eye on my stall.’
Pearl watched him leave, wondering if she could tell him about her landlord and his threat on Saturday night. She was frightened of Nobby Clark, needed someone to protect her, but didn’t feel she knew Derek well enough yet. This was a tight-knit community and she knew she had a long way to go before she was accepted. Until then, it might be more prudent to keep her mouth shut.
Pearl was taking her break, tucking into her meal, when Kevin came down from the upstairs flat.
His eyes flicked around the dining room, but then he walked towards her table. Pearl’s stomach fluttered and she quickly lowered her head.
‘Hello. Pearl, isn’t it? How are you getting on?’
‘F … fine, thanks,’ she said, amazed and gratified that he had spoken to her.
Her eyes rose, and as they fastened momentarily on his, she flushed. God, he was gorgeous, yet why did he look so anxious?
‘Do you live around here?’
‘Er … yes, I live over the empty shop further along the High Street.’
‘All right, is it?’
‘Yes, it’s fine.’
‘Who’s your landlord?’
‘Mr Clark. Nobby Clark. Do you know him?’
He smiled, perfectly even, white teeth flashing. ‘No, not really. See you,’ he said abruptly, walking away.
Pearl was thrilled that Kevin had spoken to her, but puzzled by the strange conversation.
Gertie then dashed out of the kitchen, looking harassed. ‘One of the ovens isn’t working and Dolly’s doing her nut,’ she told Bernie.
‘All right, I’m coming,’ he said. ‘Keep an eye on things out here, Pearl.’
She rose to her feet, unable now to think about Kevin’s strange behaviour as three young women came in, asking for teas.
Kevin was still smiling as he strolled along the High Street. Christ, he’d been shit scared that the new waitress had clocked him on Saturday night, but a short conversation had allayed his fears. When Pearl had asked if he knew Nobby Clark, it was obvious that she hadn’t seen him in the shop. If she had, she wouldn’t have asked the question.
‘Watcha, Kevin. With that smile on your face you must’ve got your leg over last night.’
‘Morning, Frank, and yes, I did,’ he lied.
‘You jammy young git. My old woman had a headache as usual.’
‘So much for marriage,’ Kevin quipped back.
‘It’s got its compensations, and she ain’t always under the weather.’
Kevin pictured Frank’s wife and shuddered. Like his mother, she looked a right battle-axe and he wouldn’t fancy waking up alongside her every morning.
‘Morning, Derek,’ he called as he reached the next stall.
‘Watcha, Kevin. How’s the new waitress? She ain’t fainted again, has she?’
Kevin frowned. Fainted? It was the first he’d heard of it. ‘I don’t know what you’re on about and as far as I know she’s fine.’
‘She passed out cold on her first day and I had to carry her through to the kitchen. Ain’t she a pretty little thing?’
Kevin’s eyes widened. Pretty! Blimey, Derek must need his eyes tested. Pearl was thin, pale and insipid, without an ounce of femininity. ‘Can’t say I think much of your taste, mate. Still, if you like her, as far as I’m concerned, she’s all yours.’
For a moment Derek’s face saddened. ‘She wouldn’t want me, Kevin.’
‘You don’t know that. Give it a go, mate.’
‘Nah, it’d be a waste of time.’
Kevin called goodbye, sauntering along the High Street, his arm lifting to acknowledge other stall-holders. He was still smiling happily, thinking about the money in his pocket. Yeah, he had plenty of dosh now, and would take another trip to Soho tonight.
7
During the next couple of weeks Pearl made a point of chatting to Derek Lewis whenever she got the chance, and this had certainly done the trick. The other costermongers still ribbed her, but in a friendly way, and their jokes were no longer smutty. On the whole she enjoyed the waitressing job. As long as she kept her head down and showed Mrs Dolby respect, the woman wasn’t too bad.
Pearl still felt like an outsider, but had learned a lot. There seemed to be unwritten rules in this little community. There was a strict code that no matter what you saw, or heard, you didn’t speak to the police. People round here took care of any problems in their own special way, but how they did it was still a myst
ery to Pearl. She had heard snippets of conversation – talk of keeping to your own patch and not treading on anyone’s toes – but had no idea what it meant.
It was a busy morning, about a month after Pearl had started working at the café. She wiped a hand across her forehead. ‘Can I have my break now, Bernie?’
He was about to answer when a tall, buxom woman walked into the café. As she approached the counter Pearl’s ears pricked up.
‘Are you still looking for a waitress?’
‘Yes, we are. Take a seat and I’ll get my wife.’
Bernie winked as he passed her, but Pearl frowned. It was hard work managing all the tables on her own, but if Mrs Dolby took this woman on, she’d miss the extra ten shillings a week in her wage packet.
When Dolly came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her large white apron, Bernie followed behind. ‘Right,’ she said brusquely, as she sat opposite the woman, ‘my husband tells me you’ve come about the job.’
‘That’s right.’
‘Have you had any experience?’
‘I’ve been a waitress in the Trafalgar Café at Clapham Junction for three years, but now they’ve sold the place to Greeks and they’re turning it into an omelette bar.’
‘An omelette bar? That’s a new one on me.’
‘Me too. I could stay on, but don’t fancy it somehow.’
‘I can’t believe the old Trafalgar Café has been sold. It’s been in the same family for years.’
‘I know, but old Mrs Watson wanted to retire and none of her lads would take it on.’
‘Tell me a bit about yourself.’
‘My name is Alice Freeman. I’m thirty-two and live just off Falcon Road. I’m married, with one daughter.’
‘How old is she?’
‘Yvonne’s eleven.’
Dolly pursed her lips. ‘The hours are six thirty to three thirty. How are you going to manage that with a kid of eleven?’
‘It isn’t a problem. My mother lives next door and already looks after Yvonne while I’m at work.’
‘Right, so I suppose it’s down to pay. What are you earning now?’
‘I’m on three pounds a week.’
Once again Dolly pursed her lips. ‘All right, we can match that. When can you start?’
‘On Monday.’
‘Right then, the job’s yours.’
‘Thank you,’ Alice said, smiling widely.
Pearl picked up the plates, her thoughts racing as she took them through to the kitchen. It didn’t seem fair that Dolly had offered Alice three pounds a week when she, Pearl, was earning only two. They’d be doing the same hours, the same amount of work, but because the woman was older, she’d be paid more.
Gertie turned to give Pearl a grin. ‘If someone’s applied for the waitress job, things will be a lot easier for you. You’ve been running around like a blue-arsed fly since you started and must be fair worn out.’
‘I don’t mind.’
‘What’s she like?’
Before Pearl could answer, the door swung open, Mrs Dolby walking in with Alice Freeman behind her. ‘Gertie, Mo, this is Alice. She’s starting work with us on Monday.’
‘Hello,’ Gertie said, Mo following suit, both looking at the woman appraisingly. Alice was a strong-looking young woman, with fair hair pulled back in one long plait that hung down her back.
‘And this is Pearl, our other waitress.’
‘Hello,’ Alice said. ‘Have you been managing the tables on your own?’
‘Yes, but I’ve coped.’
‘She has,’ Dolly agreed, ‘for a new girl she’s done remarkably well. Mind you, a lot of our customers ain’t got time to hang about and they’ve been getting a bit impatient at the slow service.’
Pearl flushed. She’d heard the complaints, and on occasions a few costermongers walked out, saying they’d go across the road to the pie-and-mash shop. She hadn’t realised that Mrs Dolby knew, and hung her head.
‘Now then, girl, I ain’t criticising. As I said, you’ve done well. Now go on back to the dining room and fetch us all a cup of tea.’
‘Yes, Mrs Dolby.’
‘Well, Pearl,’ Bernie said as she walked up to the counter, ‘we’ve got another waitress at last, and an experienced one at that. Things will be easier all round now.’
Pearl managed a small smile, watching as Bernie poured the tea. She took the cups through to the kitchen, finding Alice chatting to Mrs Dolby, the two women obviously getting on well.
‘Don’t worry, Mrs Dolby,’ Alice was saying, ‘I’ll be able to show Pearl the ropes and her speed will pick up in no time.’
‘Did you hear that, Pearl? You’ll learn a lot from Alice, so take note of what she tells you.’
With a small nod, Pearl placed the tray on the table. Alice was looking at her, a strange look in her eyes, one almost of triumph. But why?
Pearl found out on Monday. When she arrived at the café, Alice was already there, standing behind the counter and making a pot of tea.
‘Right, Pearl, once I’ve poured this you can take one through to Mrs Dolby. I’ve sorted out our tables. You can have the ones at this end, and I’ll take the others.’
Alice had chosen the easiest tables to work, those nearest the kitchen, and Pearl looked at Bernie for his reaction.
He was emptying bags of coins into the till, and just smiled, saying, ‘Good morning, love. It’s good that you won’t have to manage on your own now. There’ll be no complaints about the service today.’
Pearl had a bad feeling about Alice. She was already asserting herself, but since her days in the orphanage Pearl had never had the courage to speak up for herself. Now, taking a cup of tea through to Mrs Dolby, she had a sinking feeling in the pit of her tummy.
‘Good morning, Pearl,’ Dolly said. ‘Now that Alice has started, watch and learn from her. It was rough on you starting with no one to show you the ropes, but you ain’t done bad.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Dolby.’
Dolly’s broad, flat face broke into a smile, her voice unusually soft. ‘Go on, get on with your work.’
As Pearl went back to the dining room she saw both Bernie and Alice chatting as they drank their tea.
‘Come on, Pearl, I’ve poured a cup for you too,’ Alice called.
It was a friendly gesture and Pearl responded, chatting to the woman whilst Bernie popped out to the kitchen.
Alice glanced around the café. ‘I expect it’s the same routine as the Trafalgar and I’ll soon settle in.’
‘I’m sure you will, but I think there must be an easier way to take the orders.’
‘What do you mean, love?’
‘We have to write out a separate chit for each customer, and sometimes if there are four on a table it takes ages.’
‘That sounds a bit daft to me and not very efficient.’
‘I think it would be easier to write out one slip per table, listing the order with the customers initial beside it. Most come from the market, they know each other, and nine times out of ten sit with the same crowd each day. Of course, if strangers sit at the same table it wouldn’t work, but that doesn’t happen very often.’
‘It sounds like a good idea to me.’ The bell pinged, and as customers came in, Alice said, ‘Right, Pearl, shake a leg.’
Pearl frowned. Alice made it sound like a command, but the first four men took a seat at one of her tables so she went to take their order. ‘Good morning, and what can I get you?’
‘Morning, love,’ Frank said. ‘I’ll ’ave me usual.’
‘Me too,’ another man said, adding, ‘Is that another new waitress?’
‘Yes, she’s starting today.’
‘She looks like a battle-axe, Frank.’
‘Yeah, a bit of a Boadicea, if you ask me.’
Pearl was smiling as she wrote out their chit. It was obvious these men liked to find nicknames for people. During her first week, Frank had started to call her Minnie Mouse, but she didn’t mind. It was just
their way, and she was getting used to them now.
The smile left her face when she went into the kitchen. The new waitress was talking to Mrs Dolby and she looked as pleased as punch at what she was hearing.
‘Blimey, Alice, that’s a great idea and I don’t know why I didn’t think of it myself. My old gran set up the present system, and as it worked we just carried on. Now though, if we do things your way, not only will it speed up service, it’ll also save us a fortune on order pads. Well done, Alice, and it’s lovely to have someone who takes an interest in the business.’
‘Thanks, Mrs Dolby,’ Alice said.
‘Pearl, our new waitress has just come up with a marvellous idea for taking orders and we’ll start using it straight away. I’d best get these breakfasts on so I’ll leave Alice to put you in the picture.’
With a smile of satisfaction, Alice beckoned Pearl to the dining room. ‘Mrs Dolby was dead chuffed when I suggested writing out one order chit for each table and it’s certainly got me into her good books.’
‘But … but it was my idea.’
‘Well, yes, but does it matter who came up with it? As long as it makes things easier for us, that’s all that matters. Oops, better get a move on, customers are waiting.’
Pearl stood rooted to the spot for a moment, unable to believe that Alice had pinched her idea. It was her own fault, she should have plucked up the courage to speak to Dolly herself, but now it was too late. She heaved a sigh. Maybe Alice was right – after all, it would make things easier for them – but she still had a bad feeling about the woman.
By eight thirty the café was heaving, and when Derek Lewis came in he took a table at the far end of the café, surprised when Alice came to serve him.
‘Hello, where’s Pearl? She hasn’t left, has she?’
‘No, she’s in the kitchen. I’m doing the tables down this end. Now then, what can I get you?’
‘Just a couple of eggs on toast.’
Carrying two plates, Pearl came backwards through the swing door, and as she rushed past she didn’t see Derek. He watched her, his face showing his disappointment. He’d decided to pluck up the courage to ask her out today, and now felt deflated. He’d been rehearsing what he was going to say, his stomach knotted as he came in the café, but now he wouldn’t have the chance. Maybe he’d be able to catch her on her way home.
