Nobody’s Girl. Kitty Neale
giving her a cursory glance from hazel eyes, he went back to reading his newspaper, only murmuring, ‘Get me a couple of slices of bread.’
She went to the counter to find Bernard chalking a list of lunchtime meals onto a blackboard. There was steak-and-kidney pie, sausages and mash, pork chops, or liver and bacon. Apple or Bakewell tarts were added for pudding, along with custard. Once again Pearl’s mouth salivated, her stomach growling as she buttered the bread.
With more important things on his mind, Kevin hardly noticed the new waitress. He finished his breakfast, stood up and, leaving his empty plate on the table, went back to the kitchen.
‘Mum, can I have a word?’
‘What is it, love?’
‘Most of me mates have got cars, but I’m still riding a scooter.’
‘Blimey, Kevin, that Lambretta was a lot of money and you’ve only had it for a year.’
‘Yeah, I know, but I’ve been offered a lovely Vauxhall Wyvern for two hundred quid.’
‘Two hun—’
‘Listen, Mum,’ Kevin interrupted, ‘a new one would be five hundred and fifty, not forgetting the purchase tax. This one’s only a couple of years old and it’s a bargain.’
‘It’s still a lot of money, son.’
Please, Mum,’ Kevin wheedled. ‘All me mates have got cars now. Scooters are for kids.’
‘Kevin, I threw a big party for your twenty-first birthday and it cost me a pretty penny. Now you want money for a car. It doesn’t grow on trees, love.’
Kevin pouted, his expression for a moment that of a small boy. ‘Pleeease, Mum.’
‘I’ll think about it.’
He smiled secretly, knowing that with a bit more persuasion he’d get his own way. He could pull the asthmatic trick again, say it was due to the dust he breathed in when riding his scooter. That would give her a fright and with any luck she’d give in.
‘We could do with a hand at lunchtime.’
The smile left Kevin’s face. ‘I’ve got things to do, Mum. Can’t you manage without me?’
‘We’re a bit pushed. Rita walked out and the new girl’s inexperienced. I doubt she’ll cope with the lunchtime rush.’
Kevin knew what buttons to push. ‘From what I saw she’s doing all right, and I must say she ain’t bad-looking.’
‘She’s just a kid and far too young for you,’ Dolly snapped.
Pearl came in carrying Kevin’s empty plate, and as she placed it on the table he moved to her side, throwing an arm around her shoulder. ‘Hello, we haven’t been introduced.’
The girl flushed, looking up at him with wide, brown eyes, her words sounding breathless as she said, ‘Er … hello.’
‘Kevin, we can manage without you,’ Dolly said hurriedly.
He smiled inwardly. ‘Thanks, Mum. I’ll see you around tea time.’
‘Don’t stand there gawking, Pearl. Get back to your work!’
‘Yes. Sorry, Mrs Dolby.’
Dolly’s face softened almost imperceptibly as the girl ran back to the dining room. At last, a youngster who showed a bit of respect. Mind you, she’d have to keep an eye on her when Kevin was around. Pearl was just a bit of a kid, and as she was an orphan there was no knowing what sort of background she came from. There might be bad blood in her family and she was therefore totally unsuitable for her son.
‘Mo,’ Dolly shouted, ‘have you finished the spuds?’
‘Not yet, but I won’t be much longer.’
‘We’re all behind ’cos of your bleedin’ trip to the doctor’s. When you’ve finished, get on with the onions. There’s liver and bacon on the menu today so make sure you do enough.’
‘Yeah, all right, Dolly.’
It was quiet for a while as the women worked, Dolly placing the pork chops in the oven before laying out the pies ready for warming. Next she part-fried the liver, ready to be finished off with bacon when she got an order. There were only the sausages to get on now. So after vigorously forking them, Dolly placed them on a tray to cook later.
She glanced up at the clock. ‘Gertie, you’d better have your break, and you, Mo, get the spuds on.’
Mo placed the large pans on her cooker, added a generous amount of salt and lit the gas. ‘There, done, and once I’ve finished the onions I’ll get on with the cabbage and carrots.’
The Bakewell and apple pies had been delivered yesterday, and the custard already mixed, so after giving Gertie a bacon sandwich, the woman’s usual fare, Dolly took this opportunity to have a break too.
In the dining room there were only a few customers, but Dolly knew it was the calm before the storm. At lunchtime the place would be heaving and she hoped the new girl would cope. After a quick look at the tables, she sat down near the counter, her eyes now on Pearl.
Bernie was showing her how to make the tea, water pouring into the pot from the hot-water urn, a cloud of steam momentarily obscuring Pearl’s face. As it cleared, Dolly saw that the girl’s cheeks were pink from the heat, and she frowned, noticing for the first time how pretty she was. She hadn’t seen it when interviewing her, and wondered why.
As though suddenly aware that she was being observed, Pearl quickly lowered her head. That’s it, Dolly thought. It was her mouse-like demeanour, the way she kept her eyes down and her shoulders hunched.
‘As that tea is freshly made, you can pour me a cup and take a couple through to the kitchen for Mo and Gertie,’ she said, thankful that at least the girl wasn’t plastered with make-up. Kevin usually went for the obvious types, and had made a play for several of her previous waitresses. Of course, as soon as this happened she got rid of them, vowing never to employ a girl with looks again.
Had she made a mistake with Pearl? Yet as the girl came from behind the counter and carefully placed a cup of tea on the table, she doubted it. Once again she looked like a mouse, with a slim figure that was almost boyish. No, she definitely wasn’t Kevin’s type.
As the first lunchtime customers entered the café, Pearl took a deep breath in an effort to steady her nerves. She waited until they had sat down before approaching their table, trying to sound more confident than she felt. Her pad was poised.
‘What can I get you?’
‘Hello, who’s this?’ the costermonger asked his companion.
‘I dunno. Rita served me for breakfast. Has she left, darlin’?’
‘Yes, this morning. Now, what can I get you?’ Pearl asked again.
‘Blimey, she talks well, Charlie.’
‘Yeah, I’ll grant you that.’
The door opened again, four men walking to a nearby table and, seeing them, Pearl’s hands shook. She hadn’t taken this order yet, but already had to take another. ‘Please, what would you like?’
‘You on toast will do. Mind you, with the amount of meat on you I wouldn’t get much of a mouthful.’
Pearl reddened, relieved when the one called Charlie placed his order. ‘I’ll ’ave the steak-and-kidney pie, love.’
‘Yeah, I’ll ’ave the same.’
She scribbled it down, dashing to the kitchen, but as she laid the order on