.
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