The Cosy Teashop in the Castle: The bestselling feel-good rom com of the year. Caroline Roberts

The Cosy Teashop in the Castle: The bestselling feel-good rom com of the year - Caroline  Roberts


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hot plate, she’d even found some sachets of filter coffee left in the kitchen, only just in date, and a couple of filter papers.

      ‘I’ll do it, shall I?’ Doris muscled in, with a tut, her tone not in the least bit patient. ‘Look, the water goes in there, Missy.’ There was some kind of grated hatch at the top.

      And Missy? Ellie tried to keep her tone light. ‘Okay, yes, I see. Not used one of these before. Right, I’ll fetch the scones, shall I?’ This wasn’t going quite as she had planned.

      Doris had taken her Michelin-man padded coat off by the time Ellie got back with the scones and butter, all laid out nicely on a tray. The coffee was filtering through, and Ellie popped scones onto plates, setting out the nearest table for the three of them. As they sat down, Doris announced, ‘I’d rather tea with scones,’ with a bright, testing smile on her face.

      Ellie had the feeling she was being played. ‘Well, I can make a pot of tea if you’d rather.’ She tried to keep her response light and breezy. Cool, calm, collected. Christ, what would Doris be like with the customers? She’d be scaring them away! But finding someone else at this short notice would be tricky, and Lord Henry had insisted that Ellie give the previous staff a chance, which seemed only fair. Mind you, she’d make it bloody clear they were on a six-week probation period. She even had a contract ready for them to sign up to cover herself, thanks to Kirsty, who’d had some nightmare issues with staff in the past.

      ‘Oh no, don’t trouble yourself just for me, just saying that I would normally have tea.’

      ‘Coffee’s good for me,’ piped up Nicola, showing some support. That seemed to shut Doris up, though she gave her waitressing colleague a sideways look as if to say remember whose side you’re on.

      Ellie poured out filter coffee, which smelled rich and roasted, and they took their scones and started eating as they chatted. ‘Well, obviously you’ve both worked here before. So you know the general set-up.’ More than me, she was thinking with a hint of panic that she kept down. ‘I’m not planning to change too much initially. I’ve just moved the furniture around a bit, as you can see.’ The waitresses nodded. ‘And I intend getting some oilcloths on the tables – easier for clearing up, and some flowers to brighten the place.’

      ‘Sounds nice,’ Nicola commented.

      Doris was nodding quietly, waiting for her moment to strike, no doubt.

      ‘I’ll be doing the majority of the cooking. I’m trying to keep most of it homemade. And I’d like you to concentrate on serving, clearing the tables, just being friendly.’ Would that be possible for dour Doris? ‘I thought we’d take orders at the counter. So people can come up and see the cakes and what we have on offer.’

      ‘Come up to order?’ Doris made it sound like Ellie had just suggested they waitress in bunny-girl outfits. Ellie tried to push away the image that was forming in her mind – Doris in a … no, no, no. ‘Well, that’ll never work. We always used to take orders at the tables. Proper waitress service, that is.’ Her moment was evidently here. ‘Our customers like that. Feel they are being looked after.’ She was shaking her head at Ellie and tutting away like Skippy the kangaroo.

      Ellie knew she’d have to stand her ground. She was the one in charge, after all, ‘Well, I believe it gives the customer a chance to see what cakes and treats there are on offer, which is helpful for them and will surely lead to more sales. They can order quickly, take their teas and coffees, and then take their seats and relax, as we’ll still be serving them thereafter. It happens in lots of places that way, and most people seem very happy to do that.’

      ‘Well, it didn’t happen here,’ Doris grumbled on.

      ‘It will from now on, Doris.’ Ellie felt she were drawing battle lines, staking her claim on her authority.

      Nicola sat quiet, her eyes low, finishing the last of her scone, clearly not wanting to get involved with the heated discussion.

      ‘Right, I’d like you both to start at nine-thirty on Friday. You’ll be doing five days a week, nine-thirty till four-thirty. I’ll be staying after that time to tidy up. You’ll be paid by the hour. I’ll be able to keep your wages the same as last year. Joe told me you were paid at £7 per hour. I hope that’s still okay. Now, I understand the castle is closed on a Wednesday. I’ll need you both in on the weekends, but you can choose another day off, either on a Monday or Tuesday. I’ll let you decide between you.’

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