man licked his lips. ‘That’ll do us. Save a couple of slices, Bernie.’
‘Will do.’ And taking the other man’s slip he added, ‘Egg and Bacon, plus bread and tea – that’ll be a shilling.’
The two young men left and, as the café filled with more customers, Bernie refilled the large teapot, ready for the rush.
It was nine thirty before Bernie drew breath, a sheen of sweat on his forehead as the last customer paid his bill.
‘Rita, when you’ve finished clearing the tables, you can have your break.’
‘I’m dying for a fag. Can’t I have a breather now?’
‘If my wife comes out of the kitchen and sees the state of the place, she’ll have your guts for garters.’
‘It ain’t my fault. It’s impossible to do double my tables and clear them at the same time.’
Bernie exhaled loudly. He sympathised with the girl, but knew what Dolly would say if she saw the mess. He came out from behind the counter, saying with a placatory note in his voice, ‘Come on, if I give you a hand they’ll be cleared in no time.’
The girl heaved a sigh, but began stacking the plates on table two as Bernie started on the next one.
Dolly stuck her head out of the kitchen door. ‘Rita, get me a cup of tea.’
‘I’m busy,’ she replied shortly.
Bernie held his breath, but knew what was coming as his wife marched into the room.
‘What did you say?’
‘You heard me. I’ve been rushed off my feet since six thirty this morning. These tables need clearing and I ain’t had a break yet. If you want a cup of tea, I don’t see why you can’t get it for yourself.’
Dolly’s face suffused with colour as she glared at the girl. ‘You, miss, are on a week’s notice.’
‘Huh, is that a fact? Well, sod your week’s notice. I’m going now and you can stick your bleedin’ job.’
Dolly’s jaw dropped as Rita ripped off her apron, threw it on a table and then marched out of the café, only to reappear moments later to grab her handbag from under the counter. Briefly she glowered at them both, but then as a parting shot, before slamming the door behind her, she spat, ‘Do you know something, Dolly Dolby? You’re a miserable old cow and I ain’t surprised you can’t keep a waitress for more than five minutes.’
For a moment there was a shocked silence, but then Bernie sighed heavily, turning to his wife. ‘Now you’ve gone and done it. How are we supposed to manage the lunches?’
‘I’ll get Kevin down here to do the counter. You’ll have to do the serving.’
Bernie, knowing what a lazy young bugger their son was, said with a doubtful shake of his head, ‘I don’t think he’ll take kindly to that. And anyway, he’s probably still in bed.’
The bell pinged and both glanced towards the door again as a young woman came in, her head low as she looked at them shyly from under her lashes. She was a small, mousy-looking creature, wearing a shapeless, grey cotton dress that hung on her tiny frame. Straight, light brown hair sat on her shoulders, parted at the side and fastened with a slide.
For a moment they gazed at her. Then, gathering his thoughts, Bernard asked, ‘What can I get you, love?’
‘I … I saw the notice in the window for a waitress.’
‘Oh, right, then you’d best speak to my wife.’
Dolly took in a great gulp of air, her eyes momentarily looking heavenward before she spoke. ‘I’ve just lost a waitress so your timing is perfect. Sit down,’ she offered, her voice unusually soft.
Bernie listened as his wife began to question the girl. She had arrived at an opportune moment, but she looked so slight that a puff of wind could blow her over.
‘Right, what’s your name?’
‘Pearl Button.’
‘Blimey, your parents must have a sense of humour.’
The girl’s voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. ‘I … I’m an orphan. When I was left on the orphanage steps, they found a tiny button clutched in my hand. That’s how I got the name.’
‘Gawd, if it wasn’t so tragic, it’d be funny. Anyway, how old are you?’
‘I’m sixteen, but I’ll be seventeen in October.’
‘Speak up, girl, I can hardly hear you. How old did you say you are?’
‘I said I’m sixteen.’
‘Christ, you’re just a kid. Have you been a waitress before?’
‘Er … no, but I can start straight away, and I’m quick at picking things up,’ she said, for a moment her expression animated.
Dolly brushed some crumbs from the table, obviously thinking it over as Bernie urged, ‘Give her a try, love.’
He watched as his wife continued to ponder, but it seemed that need overcame her doubts. With a small nod she said, ‘All right, the job’s yours. It’s Tuesday, but if you really are willing to start straight away, we’ll give you a full week’s wage on Saturday.’
‘Oh, thank you,’ Pearl said, and as she smiled for the first time Bernie saw a flash of beauty. The girl had an elfin face with a pointed chin. Huge brown eyes seemed to take up most of her face, but they were hidden again as she lowered her head.
‘You don’t know what the hours are, so don’t thank me yet. Your shift will start at six thirty in the morning, ending at three thirty in the afternoon. You’ll get an hour for lunch between eleven and twelve.’
‘That’s all right. And … and the pay?’
‘You’re only sixteen so it’s two quid a week. Until we get another waitress I’ll give you a bit extra, and you should pick up some tips too.’
‘That’s fine.’
‘Hearing you speak it’s obvious that you don’t come from these parts. Where do you live?’
‘I have a bedsit over an empty shop further along the High Street.’
‘Don’t tell me you’re renting one of Nobby Clark’s rooms?’
‘Well, yes, my landlord is Mr Clark.’
Bernie and Dolly exchanged glances, both knowing what a dodgy character the young man was. The premises had been left to him by an aunt, but he had run the grocery shop into the ground. He had a reputation for shady deals, and some said that letting the upstairs rooms was just a front for his other activities.
Sixteen, Bernie thought, the kid is only sixteen and living alone in one of Nobby’s grotty bedsits. As he coughed she looked up at him, her vulnerability making him swallow. God, once Dolly showed her true character the girl wouldn’t last five minutes. He forced a smile, saying kindly, ‘Well, love, if you can start straight away I’ll show you the ropes, but first, how about a nice cup of tea?’
‘Make it a quick one,’ Dolly said sharply. ‘This place looks like a bomb’s hit it and I want it cleared ready for the lunchtime rush. While you’re at it, Bernie, you can pour a cup of tea for me and Gertie. Pearl can bring it through to the kitchen and I’ll introduce her to Gertie before I start on the lunches.’
Bernie moved behind the counter, and when his wife was out of earshot he decided that if they wanted to keep this waitress, it wouldn’t hurt to put her in the picture. He beckoned Pearl forward, handing her a tray with three cups on it. ‘Now listen, love. Before you take these through to the kitchen I should warn you that my wife can be a bit sharp at times. It’s just her way, but it’s lost us a few