Kitty Neale - Nobody’s Girl

‘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 the table, Dolly spoke sharply. ‘What do you call this?’

‘It … it’s an order.’

‘There’s no table number on this slip, and this copy goes to the customer. If they’re paying separately they have a slip each. I have the bottom copy.’

‘I … I’m sorry. I’ll write it out again, but I don’t know if they’re paying separately.’

‘Make sure you ask next time.’

‘Yes, sorry.’ Then hurriedly leaving the kitchen, Pearl approached the table again, her head bowed.

‘I’m sorry, I forgot to ask if you’re paying separately for your meals.’

‘Yeah, but don’t worry, love. We’ll split the bill between us.’

‘Oh, thank you.’

‘Here, miss, are we getting served today?’

‘Yes, sorry,’ Pearl said as she went over to the other table, her head once again low and feeling that she had said nothing but ‘sorry’ since she started. She flushed as one of the men at the table began to sing.

‘“Pussycat, Pussycat, what did you there? I frightened a little mouse under her chair.”’

Bernard Dolby wandered over. ‘Give Pearl a chance, Frank. It’s her first day and she hasn’t done the job before.’

The man slowly scrutinised her and she held her breath, thankful when he finally said, ‘Liver and bacon for me.’

The other three men gave their orders and this time, asking if they were paying separately, she had to make out four slips. As she tore them off and handed them out, it seemed a daft idea to her. Why write separate orders for each customer? Surely there was a more efficient way? However, as the café began to fill she dismissed it from her mind, and after dashing to the kitchen with the orders she almost ran to the next table.

Having finished their meal, the four men on table five stood up. As they walked towards the counter, one beckoned to Pearl, saying, ‘Do you want a tip, love?’

She didn’t know what to say. Yes, she needed tips, but hadn’t expected to be asked.

‘Here’s a good tip for you. Have a bet on Imperial Lad running in the three thirty at Newmarket.’

All the men burst into laughter. ‘Gawd, that’s a good one, Frank.’

Humiliated but determined to hide it, Pearl went to clear their table. It was only as she picked up the last plate that she saw the threepenny bit underneath. Pearl looked up quickly, just in time to see Frank giving her a wink as he went out of the door. Oh, he was nice really, and somehow she would have to get used to these rough men’s humour.

It was chaos by one thirty and Pearl could hardly keep up, her brow beaded with perspiration as she carried yet more plates out of the kitchen. She glanced at the clock, praying the lunchtime rush was almost over. Her lips were parched, throat dry, and she felt weak with hunger, legs wobbling beneath her.

Bernie was standing at table one, talking to a huge, fair-haired, craggy-faced man who looked like he’d been in a fight. She shuddered, hating violence, but when she finished giving the customers on table seven their order, Bernie beckoned her over.

‘Pearl, this is Derek Lewis. He’s an amateur boxer and a good one. Take his order next, will you?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Blimey, girl, there’s no need to call me sir. Bernie will do.’

‘Is there any steak-and-kidney pie left?’ Derek asked.

‘No, I’m afraid not, but the liver and bacon is very tasty.’

Pearl saw that Bernie was looking at her with approval, and when Derek agreed to have the liver, Bernie positively beamed.

‘Well done, love,’ he whispered as she hurried past, slip in hand and heading for the kitchen.

When she had cleared three more tables and taken another order, the bell rang in the kitchen. Pearl went to get the order, which was the liver and bacon for table one.

‘Don’t worry, love,’ said Derek Lewis, when she brought it over. ‘Bernie tipped me the wink and I’ll have a word with the other costermongers. They’ll leave you alone in future.’

‘Oh, no, don’t do that. I don’t want them to think I’ve been complaining.’ Pearl’s eyes were wide with appeal, but then she suddenly swayed. The room dimmed, voices came as though from a distance, her knees buckled, and she knew no more.

When Pearl opened her eyes, she saw unusually pale blue ones looking back at her and it took her a moment to realise she was in Derek Lewis’s arms.

She struggled, but became still when he said softly, ‘It’s all right, pet. I’m just taking you through to the kitchen.’

‘Wh … what happened?’

‘You fainted.’

Pearl was placed on a chair and, dizzy again, she leaned forward.

‘What’s going on?’ Dolly asked sharply.

‘She passed out, Mrs D. Your old man told me to bring her in here.’

‘Yeah, well, you can go now.’

When Derek left the kitchen, Gertie hurried over. She gave Pearl a glass of water, and then asked, ‘’Ave you been sick in the mornings, love?’

‘Sick … no.’

‘So you ain’t up the duff then?’

‘Up the duff?’ Pearl parroted, her head still swimming.

‘She’s asking if you’re in the family way,’ Dolly snapped.

‘No, of course I’m not.’

‘Why did you faint? Are you ill?’

‘Oh, no. It’s just that I didn’t have any breakfast this morning and—’

Bernie stuck his head around the door. ‘How is she?’

‘She’s just hungry. Can you manage without her for a while?’

‘No, not really. There’s customers waiting to be served.’

‘I can give him a hand for a little while,’ Gertie offered.

Dolly exhaled loudly. ‘All right, go on then, but just while I give this daft cow something to eat, and then she can get back to work.’

Gertie scampered out, and as Dolly shoved a pork chop onto a plate, Pearl sat watching, mouth salivating. Her head was clearer now, but her stomach rumbled.

A dollop of mash was added, then some vegetables and thick gravy, Dolly’s voice gruff as she plonked it in front of her. ‘Right, get that down you.’

‘Thank you,’ Pearl said, and though she tried not to scoff, in a very short time the food disappeared.

‘I don’t think going without breakfast is reason enough to faint. When was the last time you had anything to eat?’

‘I … I had some soup yesterday lunchtime.’

‘Christ, will you speak up, girl?’

‘I said I had some soup yesterday.’

‘Is that all? No wonder you passed out. Why didn’t you tell me you were hungry?’

‘I didn’t like to, and as I started after ten, I didn’t think I was entitled to a break.’

‘For goodness’ sake! We aren’t bad employers and you only had to say.’

‘There’s something else, Mrs Dolby …’

Pearl paused and Dolly snapped, ‘Well, spit it out.’

‘I don’t think I’ve got enough tips to pay for this meal.’