‘Hard to say,’ replied Janice. Her brother had stayed in Blackpool during the Easter break, working at a seafront hotel. ‘He has other interests in Blackpool now, hasn’t he? I was sorry about him and Sophie, though. They seemed good together.’
‘They’re only kids,’ said Phil, with all the wisdom of his twenty-six years.
‘We weren’t all that much older,’ said Janice. ‘I was only eighteen when I met you.’
‘Well, we’ll see, won’t we? I agree that Sophie’s a nice lass. I have a feeling that this Alison might be a bit much for Ian.’
‘We haven’t met her …’
‘No, but your dad and Norma have. I’m only thinking about what Norma said to you.’
‘She said that Alison was rather sophisticated, that’s all.’
‘And Ian certainly isn’t,’ said Phil, ‘although I don’t think he’s quite as naive as he used to be. Anyway, time will tell.’
Ian met Alison Riley at the evening meal that the students of the catering college put on for members of the public, mainly those who had been invited along by the students themselves. The meal took place during the last week of March, just before the college closed down for the Easter break.
‘I’ve invited my landlady and her husband, Mr and Mrs Riley,’ Darren told Ian, ‘and Alison said she’d like to come as well. I’ll introduce you to her, Ian. Who knows? You might fancy each other!’
Ian gave Darren a weak smile. He was still hurting somewhat after the break-up with Sophie, and had told Darren about it. The two of them were quite good mates now, Darren bearing no grudge about the rebuff from Ian. He had still not found anyone to share his digs and was not likely to do so before the arrival of new students in September.
‘I’m not really bothered at the moment,’ Ian said. ‘I’ve asked my dad and Norma to come and they’re looking forward to it. I see that nearly all the tickets have gone. It should be a good “do”.’
It certainly promised to be a first-class meal; at least, the ingredients were first rate, but it all depended on the preparation and presentation of the meal by the students, which could make or break it. Members of staff, though, would be on hand to ward off any disasters.
The visitors were asked to choose their menu in advance to make things a little easier for the students and to avoid unnecessary wastage. It was a three-course meal, after which coffee and chocolate mints would be served.
There was a choice of homemade pâté with toast, mushroom soup or melon cocktail for the starter; poached salmon, roast beef or breast of chicken for the main course, all served with seasonal vegetables and the appropriate sauces; and sherry trifle, plum tart with custard, or assorted ice creams for the dessert. All the sauces, of course, were homemade, the only ready-made item being the ice cream.
They were catering for thirty guests and, fortunately, the choices of menu had worked out quite evenly.
The guests started arriving soon after six thirty, as the meal was to be served at seven o’clock. There was a small bar with adequate seating for those who wanted a pre-dinner drink. Others chose to go straight to the dining area, where the tables had been set for two, four or six, to meet with everyone’s requirements.
Two students served at the bar, where a limited selection of wines, spirits and ales were on sale. Two more students took orders and served the drinks at the tables.
There were a dozen students responsible for the meal in all: the preparation and cooking, which had begun in the late afternoon, the setting of the tables, the serving and the clearing away. More than a dozen would have meant that they got in one another’s way, but all the students would take their turn at one or more of these guest meals during their time at the college.
Ian worked along with Darren, as he often did, making the plum tarts. They both considered themselves to be dab hands now at pastry making. The custard, however, to accompany the tarts proved more difficult. It had to be made with fresh eggs and milk, not ready-made with powder from a tin, or – even more simple – a tin of Ambrosia custard. It was not uncommon for the milk to curdle or the custard to be too thick or too thin.
‘I hope to goodness it turns out all right,’ Ian said as they prepared the filling of plums. ‘Norma always uses Bird’s custard powder and I rather think my mum did when we had the boarding house. But Phil always makes the real thing.’
‘My mum uses Bird’s,’ Darren agreed. ‘It’s just as nice. But we have to show that we can make the real stuff. They call it “English cream” on the continent because it’s something they’re not used to making. Anyway, let’s worry about that when the time comes.’ The custard had to be made just before the tarts were ready to be served.
When the first course was ready and the main course was well on its way, half the students took off their cookery aprons to reveal their waiter’s uniforms: black trousers and dazzling white shirts with a red bow tie for the men, while the girls wore black skirts and white blouses with a red ribbon at the neck.
The serving of the main course was a tricky business – silver service, which involved the waiter serving each guest individually, over their right shoulder, from a large silver platter. There was a knack to carrying it, and to serving the vegetables and potatoes, trying hard not to drop any on the tablecloth, or, even worse, on the clothes of the customer. The students had practised on each other first before they’d been let loose on the guests. The gravy and the sauces, however, had been placed on the table in dishes for everyone to help themselves.
Ian knew that in many hotels and restaurants, the more common or garden ones, the meal was put straight on to the plate – meat, veg and gravy – in a ‘take it or leave it’ attitude.
Some others, even quite prestigious hotels, put the vegetables and potatoes in dishes for the clients to take as much or as little as they wished. Far the best way, he thought, and the way his mum had always done it. But the training here could equip them for a position at the Ritz or the Hilton!
On the whole, it was a successful evening with no major disasters. There were certainly no complaints from the customers. The students responsible for the vegetables were aware that the carrots and broccoli might have been a little overcooked, but it was better that way, they’d told themselves, rather than being underdone.
The beef was moist but not too rare. Although there were some who preferred it rare there were many who liked it quite well done, a rich brown colour with no hint of redness. And the students knew they must aim to please.
Ian and Darren’s custard turned out just right despite their anxiety. Ian was pleased because his dad and Norma had opted for the plum tart and custard, knowing that Ian had had a hand in it.
There was very little time for conversation between the students who were serving the meal and their guests, apart from that which concerned the food. It so happened that Ian’s guests and Darren’s were seated at the same table – one that had been set for six – so there was a spare place.
Alec and Norma were a sociable couple; Alec had been much more so since meeting and marrying Norma. They had politely asked the Riley family, who seemed a friendly trio, if they could join them, rather to the surprise of Ian and Darren when they’d seen them sitting together.
It hadn’t taken long for the two couples to be on first-name terms. Mr and Mrs Riley were Derek and Enid. They had discovered that Ian and Darren knew one another quite well and often worked together.
‘Oh, yes, we’ve heard about Ian,’ Mrs Riley said. ‘I’m glad he and Darren are friends. Darren’s a really nice lad. We’re really pleased to have such a nice, well-brought-up young man staying with us, aren’t we, Derek?’
Her husband nodded his agreement.
‘Yes, you can always tell when they come from a good home,’ she went on. ‘We were hoping we might get another young man to share with him. It’s a twin double room, you see, and, to be honest, it’s a nice little income for us. We’ve been taking students for a few years now. Darren seems OK on his own, thoug
h, and I’m sure he’s got a lot of friends here. He’s a lively lad but very respectful, if you know what I mean, isn’t he, Alison?’ She turned to her daughter, who nodded.
‘Yes, he’s a nice lad, Mum.’ She smiled to herself. There was a lot that her parents didn’t know about Darren but she had no intention of telling them. She doubted that they would understand – at least, probably her mum wouldn’t – and most likely they would be horrified.
‘I thought that he and our Alison might have got friendly,’ she said, looking coyly at her daughter. ‘I know they’re only young but you want them to have someone you can trust, don’t you?’
‘I’ve told you. I like him, Mum,’ said Alison. ‘We are friendly but he’s not my boyfriend and he’s not likely to be. I think there’s someone where he comes from, in Bury.’
Brief introductions were made when Ian and Darren served their family members.
‘Let me introduce Mr and Mrs Riley and Alison,’ Darren said to Ian. ‘I’ve told him all about the good digs I’ve got.’
It wasn’t possible for them to shake hands because their hands were otherwise occupied, but they all said ‘Hello’ or ‘How do you do?’ and smiled at one another.
Alison saw that Ian was a good-looking lad with brown hair and thoughtful grey eyes, possibly a little reserved – Darren had hinted as much – but she liked what she saw. He might be worth a try …
Ian noticed that Alison was an attractive blonde girl with hazel eyes that looked at him appraisingly for a moment. Then she smiled at him in a questioning sort of way. She looked nothing like Sophie. He still tended to compare every girl he met with Sophie, who was small and dark-haired with a bubbly personality. This girl looked far more suave and sophisticated. Her hair was smooth and straight and reached almost to her shoulders. She was slim and he guessed she would be quite tall, although it was hard to tell when she was sitting down.
Ian found, to his surprise, that he was thinking about her quite a lot as he continued to serve the meals. Maybe he should find another girlfriend or, at least, a girl to get friendly with, as Darren and other friends here had advised him to do. But it seemed to him that Alison Riley might be far out of his league. And how would he go about it? He had found it quite easy to approach Sophie, and she had met him more than halfway when he had suggested that they might go out together. But Alison looked as though she knew her way around, and he didn’t want a rebuff or to be made to look stupid.
As it happened, he need not have worried. When he came to clear away the dishes after the three courses were completed, Alison stood up to speak to him. As he had guessed, she was as tall as he was, about five foot seven, quite tall for a girl. She moved a little way from the table and gently touched his arm.
‘I’m glad I’ve met you, Ian,’ she said. ‘Darren has told me about you. I was wondering if you would like to meet me sometime, then we could get to know each other better? Maybe we could have a walk on the prom, or in the park. You live near there, don’t you? And then perhaps have a coffee or … something?’
Ian was somewhat taken back but very relieved. He had no hesitation in saying, ‘Yes, that would be lovely. Wait a minute, though. I’d better get these dishes moved. I’ll be bringing your coffee in a little while.’
‘Guess what?’ he said to Darren. ‘Alison asked me if I’d like to go out with her!’
‘Good for you!’ said Darren. ‘I thought she might. She’s not backward in coming forward, our Alison. You said yes, I hope?’
‘Well, yes, of course. What else could I say? It would’ve been rude to refuse.’
‘And you had no intention of refusing, had you?’
‘Well … no. She took the wind out of my sails. I was trying to pluck up courage to ask if I could see her sometime, then I thought, perhaps not. She looks so … grown up, and I thought she wouldn’t want to be bothered with me. Hasn’t she got a boyfriend?’
‘Not that I know of. Like you say, she appears a bit superior but she’s not when you get talking to her. She’s in the sixth form at the girls’ grammar school, so I don’t suppose she meets many lads. Anyway, you get in there, Ian lad, while you’ve got the chance.’
They gave their guests time to finish their coffee then went to clear the tables. Ian smiled at Alison, a little unsurely, and she stood up, moving away from the table again so that they could talk. Ian noticed that Norma gave a little smile, seeming well aware of what was going on. His dad was deep in conversation with Mr Riley, and Mrs Riley was looking very relaxed, enjoying a cigarette. She seemed nice, Ian thought, and so did her husband. Mrs Riley was an older edition of Alison – plumper, though, with a more rounded face and blonde, greying hair. He knew that Alison was their only child, and he guessed they must have been in their thirties when she was born.
Ian decided he had better start the conversation and not leave it to Alison, as though he was unsure of himself.
‘When shall we meet then, and where?’ he began. ‘We finish college at the end of the week but I’ve got a job at a hotel on the prom, near central pier. It’ll be shift work, I suppose, so I don’t know what hours I’ll be working yet.’
‘And school finishes, too,’ said Alison. ‘I’m not working, though. I had a job at Marks and Spencer’s during the summer holiday and I’ll probably go there again this year, but I’ve nothing to do now except revision, if I feel like it! Mock A-levels coming up soon.’
‘Oh, yes … What are you going to do when you finish school? Go to college?’
She shrugged. ‘Haven’t decided yet. I’ve another year in the sixth. Look … ring me, and perhaps we can sort something out after the Easter weekend. No doubt you’ll be busy then?’
‘Probably. OK, I’ll do that. I’ll get your phone number from Darren. He’s off home to Bury at the weekend.’
‘Of course.’ She grinned. ‘I’m glad you got friendly with Darren. He’s a nice lad, although I know you’re not … his type.’
‘Er … no. We’re good mates though,’ said Ian, feeling a little nonplussed. ‘OK, then, I’ll ring you, Alison. I’ll look forward to seeing you. Better get on now; all this clearing up to do.’
‘See you soon then, Ian. I’ll look forward to it as well.’ She gave an almost imperceptible wink as she sat down.
‘I’m glad to see that you and Ian are getting friendly,’ said her mother, smiling knowingly at her. ‘Norma has been telling me how hard he’s working here, but he needs to get out and enjoy himself when he can.’
‘You don’t miss much, do you, Mum?’ said Alison, but not resentfully. ‘Yes, we’re going to meet after Easter.’ She turned to speak to Norma. ‘Darren’s told me a lot about Ian, so I’m pleased to meet him at last. We’re about the same age, I think.’
‘Ian will be eighteen in August,’ said Norma.
‘So I’m just a month younger,’ said Alison. ‘Eighteen in September.’
‘Better to have someone your own age,’ said her mother. ‘Alison had a boyfriend last year who was a few years older,’ she told Norma. ‘He was in the RAF, stationed at Weeton Camp near Blackpool; then he was demobbed and I was jolly glad, I can tell you.’
‘Don’t talk about me as if I’m not here, Mum,’ said Alison in good humour. ‘I have to agree with you, though. He wasn’t right for me. I soon realized that.’
‘We made him welcome at our home, though,’ Enid went on. ‘I like to meet all of Alison’s friends. But there was something a bit … shifty about him. You didn’t realize when you first met him.’
‘Well, it’s all water under the bridge now, Mum. Ian’s quite different; I could tell that at once.’
Alison could feel her face turning a little pink. Her mother did go on at times! Jeffrey was history now. She had been only sixteen when she’d met him at the tower ballroom and they had started going out together. She’d felt pleased with herself to have a boyfriend – her first one. She no longer felt out of it when the girls in her form boasted about their conquests. But Jeffrey had wante
d to move things on too quickly for her liking. She would take things nice and steady this time.
Ian was very busy over the Easter weekend. Being a student and a part-time worker, he had to fit in whenever he was needed. Fortunately the hotel was not too far from his home and he cycled there and back each time. If he was on the early shift he started at seven o’clock. Breakfast was served from seven thirty – for the early risers – until nine thirty. After serving the breakfasts then clearing away, he was free until the evening dinnertime.
They had their own expert chefs, so he did not get any experience with the preparation of the meals. His main job was to wait on at the tables; he also gave a hand in the kitchen with dishing up and clearing away.
On Wednesday, however, he would not be required until six o’clock in the evening. Many of the visitors had been there for the Easter weekend and had returned home on Tuesday morning.
He knew he must phone Alison or she might think he had changed his mind about meeting her, which was certainly not the case. She had been very much at the centre of his thoughts since the previous week. He thought it might be better to spend a casual afternoon together at first, then, if it went well they could go out somewhere for the evening, which would be more of a ‘date’.
Alison seemed pleased to hear from him, and they decided they would have a walk around Stanley Park. As Ian lived closer to the park than she did she suggested that she should walk up to his home.
He had been waiting eagerly to hear her ring the doorbell, but he greeted her casually. ‘Hi there, Alison. Good to see you again. OK, then, let’s go.’
It was a ten-minute walk or so along the tree-lined avenues to the imposing main gates of the park. They were both a little quiet at first, then Alison asked how he was liking the job. It broke the ice as he told her, probably in more detail than was required, about his work at the hotel.
The trees and bushes in the park were only just showing their springtime greenery, but there were crocuses and early daffodils in abundance. They wandered down to the lake where ducks and Canada geese were swimming, some wandering on to the pathway hoping for tidbits from the children who frequented the area with their parents. A visit to Stanley Park was a pleasant way for visitors to the town to spend an afternoon, and for residents who had the time.
Pastures New Page 14
