by Anna King
Rinsing the mug in the sink, she glanced at the clock and saw it was getting on for seven thirty. She quickened her movements. As she washed and dressed, she thought back over the last four months, hardly able to believe that finally, after numerous meetings with the bank manager and estate agents to locate premises within her price range – not to mention the sleepless nights and anxious, fraught days when she’d questioned her own actions – the day she had been both longing for and dreading was finally here.
Then, for some reason, her thoughts went back to the day they had seen Rory and Cathy Meadows in the restaurant, and the help she had given to a desperate Rory. At eight o’clock the following morning he had been on her doorstep, his face red, his expression sheepish as he had given her back the five pounds and thanked her profusely for her kindness in helping him out of a difficult situation. Josie hadn’t asked him in, nor had he shown any desire to do so.
Her hand stopped in mid air, her fingers curled around her hairbrush at the memory. She could still clearly see his face as he’d tried to avoid her gaze. Her fingers tightened as she began brushing her hair with renewed vigour. Damn him! Of all the things to remember on an important day such as this! It was uncanny how Rory could still creep into her mind.
She had just pinned her hair into a French pleat when the sound of the knocker resounded through the house. Josie smiled with relief. She had hoped Jane and Annie would come early, for mother and daughter were as excited and anxious as she was. Smiling broadly, she opened the door and was nearly knocked off her feet as Jane flung herself at her, her arms encircling Josie’s waist.
‘Here, go easy, love,’ Josie laughed. ‘I wanna be in one piece when we open the shop… Or should I say tea rooms?’
‘Will ye calm down, Jane,’ Annie admonished her daughter, but there was no censure in her voice, for she too was experiencing an overwhelming anxiety. She knew just how important Josie’s new venture was to her.
‘Oh, sorry, Josie. I can’t help it, I’m so excited I could just burst.’
‘Well, don’t get too excited, mate. If it all goes well you’re gonna be needing all your energy just to stay on your feet.’
‘Well! Are we going to stand around talking all morning? We’ve a shop to open, don’t forget. And I’ve still all the ingredients to mix. There must be ten or more mixtures to prepare, and that’s afore I even start cooking. I want everything to be fresh. We can’t be serving stale cakes on our first day, else we’ll be out of business afore we get started.’
Josie looked at Annie. She was wrapped up in her winter coat, a black shawl covering her head and most of her face, and Josie’s heart went out to her. For there was no mistaking the fear and anxiety in the older woman’s eyes.
‘Yeah, you’re right, Annie. I suppose I’m just nervous, but I can’t put it off any longer.’ Taking a deep breath, she said, ‘All right, enough stalling. I’ll just get me coat on, then we’ll get going before me nerves get the better of me.’
It was a good twenty minutes by foot to the market. They could have taken the tram, but they were all too buoyed up to stand around waiting. The stalls were already out and doing a brisk business when they arrived, but most of the shops, with the exception of the bakery, wouldn’t open their doors until nine. It was now just after eight o’clock. Thinking they wouldn’t get much business until any customers had completed their shopping, Josie had decided to open the tea shop at ten. She would see how it went today before putting an hours of business sign in the window.
‘Well! This is it,’ Josie said, unable to hide the anxiety in her voice. Taking the keys from her handbag, she opened the door.
Annie made straight for the kitchen, anxious to start preparing the ingredients for the various cakes they were planning to sell. She was a good cook, but her forte was mainly plain, nourishing food. For the last few weeks she had been trying out recipes from Mrs Beeton’s cookery book; a birthday present from the boys many years ago. At the time she couldn’t imagine ever having any use for it. Now she blessed her sons’ gift. It had turned from an unwanted present to a godsend. To her surprise she had thoroughly enjoyed baking the small fancy cakes. It had made a welcome change from the standard fare she was used to cooking. She had tried them out on her menfolk and endured their teasing as they had scoffed them down with relish. Unfortunately the Flynn men would eat anything set in front of them, as long as it wasn’t still moving, so Annie couldn’t rely on their compliments.
At least she was familiar with the kitchen. She should be; she’d been here enough times over the past few weeks. And she had to admit it was more than adequate in respect of space, plenty of cupboards and utensils – plus a brand new oven that was twice as large as the one she had at home.
Rolling up her sleeves, she got to work. She’d know soon enough if her newly acquired talents were up to scratch. She sent up a silent prayer as she set out the ingredients. Josie had put nearly all of her money into this venture, God help her, along with faith in herself, Annie and Jane. And they wouldn’t let her down!
With Annie busy in the kitchen, Josie and Jane began setting out the main room. The next hour was spent covering the fifteen circular tables with red- and-white-checked tablecloths. Then the cups, saucers and plates were laid at each place, with the cups turned upside down in the saucers – a tip Josie had picked up at the expensive restaurant they had visited that one and only time. The finishing touch was a silver-plated sugar bowl as a centrepiece.
Josie stepped back, looking at the overall effect, her eyes critical. The tables still looked bare, and she voiced her opinion to Jane.
‘I know, I was just thinking the same.’ Jane nodded. ‘If this was a proper restaurant, we could lay out some cutlery, but no one’s going to need knives and forks to eat cakes, are they?’
Josie grinned.
‘No, you’re right. They won’t need proper knives and forks, but they might like a spoon and maybe a cake fork, you know, one of those little posh ones.’
Without waiting for Jane’s answer, Josie rushed into the kitchen and, ignoring Annie’s protests, rummaged through the numerous drawers until she found the cutlery she was looking for.
‘There! That looks better, doesn’t it?’ She stood back, surveying the tables once more. This time she was satisfied with what she saw.
Josie looked at the clock on the wall. It was now nine thirty. The smell of baking was wafting through the tea room, the tables were set; all they needed now were the customers.
‘Is there anything else you want me to do, Josie?’ Jane asked.
Josie looked around the room and shook her head.
‘No thanks, love.’ Then she smiled. ‘Unless you wanna go out and drag people in off the street.’
Jane’s eyes widened.
‘Oh no, Josie. I don’t think—’
‘Give over, you silly cow. I was only joking. Here, have a sit-down while I go and see how your mum’s getting on.’
Pushing open the kitchen door, Josie stopped and sniffed the air.
‘Hmm, that smells gorgeous, Annie. Let’s have one, eh? I ain’t had nothing to eat since last night. I’m starving.’ Josie looked happily at the rows of cakes and buns laid out neatly on baking trays.
Annie, her face flushed from the heat of the oven, grunted.
‘All right, love. Just the one though,’ she admonished as Josie took a large bite out of an iced bun, her hand reaching out for another one.
‘Sorry, Annie,’ Josie mumbled, her mouth full of the warm dough. ‘I didn’t realise I was so hungry. These are lovely. If this lot don’t pull the punters in, then nothing will.’
Annie preened at the compliment, though she wouldn’t show it. Instead she slapped Josie’s hand as it hovered over another cake.
‘Begod! Sure an’ we won’t have anything to sell if ye keep on eating all me hard work.’ Wiping her hands down an apron covered with flour, she asked, ‘D’ye think I’ve made enough, love? Only ye did say if we got busy ye’d be want
ing me to help out in the shop.’
‘Yeah, I know I did. But we’ve got to get today over with first, see how we go. Mind you, it was a bit of luck me getting this shop. For one thing people have to pass this way to get to and from the tram stop, and with the bakery at the other end, we don’t have to worry about competing with them, ’cos there’s nothing more mouth-watering than the smell of fresh bread.’
Her face became solemn as doubts set in again. She was sure that once people had sampled Annie’s cooking and had the luxury of sitting down in a friendly, clean atmosphere, they would not only come back, but recommend the tea shop to their friends. Josie had taken into account the fact that the kind of women she was hoping to attract were not in the habit of dining out; they simply couldn’t afford it. So she had cut her prices as low as she could. Of course she had to make a profit, but she could do that without charging exorbitant prices for a cup of tea and a cake. Her journey into the West End had shown her how much could be made out of a shop such as hers. But those places were frequented by people who weren’t short of a few bob. She had briefly toyed with the idea of setting up in the West End, but had rejected the idea. Here was where she belonged – and Annie and Jane. Her two best friends; her only true friends. She trusted them implicitly.
A loud tut of annoyance cut through Josie’s thoughts.
‘By the time ye open up, me cakes will be cold,’ Annie said brusquely, her nerves making her voice sharp. Then it softened. ‘Look, love, why don’t ye do it now? I mean, what have ye to lose?’
Josie nipped nervously on her bottom lip. The same thought had occurred to her. But something was dragging her back, and she knew what it was. For while the shop remained closed, she could hold on to her dreams of success a little longer. The moment she opened the doors, reality would set in. And as Josie knew only too well, reality could be very cruel.
‘Josie! Josie!’ Jane burst into the kitchen. ‘There’s some women outside looking at the price list in the window. And one of them tried to get in.’ The young girl was breathing rapidly, as if she had been running.
‘Well! What’s to be done, Josie?’ Annie was staring at her.
Josie’s stomach was churning, and her gaze flitted from one woman to the other as if seeking guidance. Annie, bless her, looked a bundle of nerves, while poor Jane was positively trembling with excitement and apprehension. Suddenly Josie wished she hadn’t scoffed down those iced buns, for they were in imminent danger of coming back up. Swallowing noisily, she smiled bravely and said over-loudly, ‘Don’t just stand there, Jane, open the door. We’ve got customers waiting.’
Jane turned away, then back to Josie.
‘Will… will you come with me, Josie?’ she asked almost piteously.
‘Course I will, silly,’ Josie answered with a lot more confidence than she was feeling. Glancing back at Annie, she crossed her fingers.
‘Wish me luck, Annie.’
The Irishwoman laughed.
‘And what d’ye think I’ve been doing for the last few months? Sure an’ I’ve nearly worn me rosary beads out praying to the Blessed Virgin.’
Back in the tea room, Josie waited a few moments to regain her composure. She ran a critical eye over Jane’s plain grey dress with the starched white apron tied around her slim waist, and nodded. Yet it wasn’t the girl’s attire that concerned Josie. She only hoped no one would make any tactless comment concerning Jane’s birthmark, because if that happened… Josie shook her head. She had more pressing things to concern herself with. But if anyone did make a derisory remark, that person would be out of the shop before their feet could touch the ground. A wry smile touched the corners of Josie’s mouth as she visualised the scene. That would be a great start to her new enterprise, wouldn’t it? Especially if the offending customer landed at the foot of more potential customers about to enter the shop.
She took a last look at her own garb. The long, plain black skirt and white blouse looked smart without being too ostentatious. And like Jane, she too wore a white apron, only hers had a small frill around the edge.
Raising her eyes, she could see several faces hovering outside. Whether they were simply curious bystanders or potential customers remained to be seen.
Josie looked to Jane and nodded.
‘Open the door, love. It’s time to start work.’
* * *
The first hour was quiet, their only customers ordering just a cup of tea, making pleasing comments about the array of cakes on offer but declining to order any. The women in question were simple housewives, unable to afford the luxury of pastries. And with each order of ‘Just a cuppa, please, love’, Josie’s heart had sunk a little lower; as had Annie’s, who could see all her hard work and effort going to waste.
Then Jane had tentatively suggested that they put a notice in the window saying that all orders of tea would be accompanied by a free cake until eleven thirty. Within minutes of the notice going up, the tea room had been besieged. Yet even in the midst of coping with the never-ending flow of customers there had been a nagging fear at the back of Josie’s mind that come eleven thirty, the tea room would once again be empty. But she had been proved wrong. Oh, the crowds had dwindled, but in their wake had come a steady stream of customers, all asking for one of the delicious cakes they had heard so much about. Jane’s publicity idea had paid off.
Then Josie had an even greater boost to her morale.
Between the hours of one and two thirty, many of the stallholders came in asking if they did dinners, adding that they would have to be plain and quick as they couldn’t leave their fellow market traders keeping an eye on their stall for too long. After a hurried word with Annie, Josie had been able to promise that such meals would be available from the next day.
It was five thirty before a tired but happy Josie locked the door and turned the sign round to ‘Closed’. Now, an hour later, after the tea room and kitchen had been cleaned ready for tomorrow, the three women sat down to a welcome and well- deserved cup of tea – without cake. Even if there had been any left, they were all much too tired to eat.
‘Begod! The lads are going to be sorely disappointed when I come home empty-handed. They were looking forward to the leftovers,’ Annie commented, her tired voice tinged with pride at her achievement.
‘Well then, we can tell them to come down here and wait in line like the rest of our customers.’ Jane, younger and fitter than her mother and Josie, was positively glowing with happiness. Mainly for Josie’s sake, but also because she had achieved her dream of having a job. She had almost resigned herself to having to depend on her family for the rest of her life, but not any more. Working for her own wage had given her an extra boost of confidence, even more so than the trip up West had done.
Josie finished her tea, her face worried.
‘Are you sure you can cope with cooking dinners as well as making the cakes? I mean it’s gonna be a lot of hard work, Annie. You’re worn out now; just imagine what it’ll be like having to cook for the stallholders as well.’
Annie put down her cup and sighed.
‘I’ll not lie to ye, Josie, that same thought’s been preying on me mind all afternoon. But I said I’d do it and I’ll not go back on me word. And you can’t either, love. You promised the stallholders simple meals and that’s what we’ll have to supply. After all, if we want to fit in with the other traders and shopkeepers, it won’t look good if we go back on our word on our first day, now will it?’
Josie nodded, her face still etched with worry.
‘I know, Annie, I know. But we should have talked it over properly instead of promising something we might not be able to do. Besides, when I first started thinking about opening me own business, I only wanted a simple place to run. Something sort of posh… Oh! You know what I mean, Annie. I wanted something different, something with a bit of class. And it won’t have a chance in hell of being that if we start serving up pie and mash or egg and chips, will it? All I wanted was a nice clean tea shop for women to
come to after they’d finished their shopping. And don’t forget, Annie, the markets get their fair share of the upper classes as customers. But if we start catering for the traders, it’ll turn into a working men’s club…’ She trailed off miserably.
Annie swivelled her head round to get a better look at Josie, her eyes narrowing.
‘Well now, people say ye learn something new every day, and they’re right. I’d never have put ye down as being a snob, Josie Guntrip.’
Leaning across a silent Jane, Annie patted Josie’s knee none too gently.
‘I’m going to tell ye something now that I’ve been keeping to meself, and it’s this. I didn’t say anything afore ’cos I didn’t want to burst your bubble. I kept quiet thinking you’d realise soon enough that just selling cups of tea and cakes was never going to make ye a fortune. I just didn’t think ye’d find out so soon. But the truth is, by the time ye’ve paid the rates, the food, and me and Jane, ye’ll have precious little to show in the way of profit.’ Annie leaned back, her eyes on the downcast head. ‘I’m sorry if I’m being too harsh, Josie love, but it had to be said. And ye know deep down I’m right. You’ll have your tea shop one day, love, I know ye will. But first ye’ve got to make enough money, and like I’ve already said, ye’ll not make your fortune by serving cups of tea and fancy cakes – at least, not round these parts.’
Josie kept her head down so that neither Annie nor Jane would see the hurt and disappointment on her face. All of what Annie had said was true; even the part about knowing she would never earn a decent living from owning her own tea shop.
