The Waitress (27 page)

‘Wipe your feet!’ greeted his mother in the hallway.

He gave her a quick kiss before asking what was for tea and dominating the kitchen with his presence.

His mates and even the A-gang girlies who sometimes joined them had noticed a difference in Matt, but he wasn’t telling. He wasn’t telling that, while they were whiling away their pathetic lives, he was planning a
weekend
away with all the trappings, and that while they were playing a stupid game of pool, they were in the company of someone who this time next year, might be having his girlfriend – his girlfriend – up to stay with him at university. Oh no, he wasn’t going to tell them why he was in such a good mood, tease though they might. They were children and he, he was a man.

By eleven that night, the female staff of Crichton Brown’s had fallen into bed, exhausted. Sukie dreamt of being on stage with Jon and Katie in the audience, who were married. Patsy dreamt of the cosmetics section at Boots, and for some reason Katie dreamt of Orinoco, who wasn’t even her favourite Womble. They all woke early the next morning.

Nik was still off sick, ringing to explain that now the poison had moved down his body and he’d been awake again all night. He was exhausted. His mate had also got it and had been told by his doctor to take two days off. Katie and Dan set to immediately. He fetched all the necessary ingredients from the store cupboard that she’d needed the day before, and, in a casual aside, told her he’d get some more chicken breasts if she wanted to do something with the ones from yesterday. She told him, just as casually, that it was too late, they had now been in the fridge for two days. He nodded and she turned quickly round, confident he’d got the message. They worked quickly and almost silently together, although now there were the odd and necessary one-liners, such as ‘Where are the cucumbers?’ which yesterday they would have both have hunted for rather than lower themselves to ask. The
cold
war was slowly thawing. Still, Katie found it hard to believe that only yesterday morning, they’d been giggling together like teenagers. It seemed like weeks ago now. Amazing that only one day later, they were barely talking. The fact was that however much of a prick Dan might be; however rude, selfish or disrespectful he might be, or however often he played the boss card when he felt outdone, she missed giggling with him. Which made her confront the fundamental truth that she liked him and being stand-offish with him only hurt herself. This fundamental truth piqued her so much that she decided to be even more stand-offish with him.

Then she decided she’d be much better at her job if less of her energy was spent thinking about Dan and her. Then she wondered if Dan felt the same way and started replaying all of their conversations to date.

As soon as Matt arrived, he promised to give anyone his share of the tips if they called him when the hot chick came in so he could take her order. Not that he needed to be called. His body told him exactly when it was one o’clock.

Sukie and Katie frowned heavily at him.

‘Hot?’ repeated Sukie, shaking her head. ‘
Chick
?’

‘I’m so sorry,’ said Katie, ‘I don’t remember there being any fowl on the premises, heated or otherwise.’

Suddenly Sukie gasped. She turned to Katie. ‘He means a
woman
!’

‘Oh I
see
!’ said Katie. ‘Oh, how
sweet
.’

Matt grunted, blushed and made his exit.

As it happened, Katie gave him the nod, but she didn’t hold him to his promise – she could tell from his pasty
expression
of determined fear that he hadn’t needed her prompting. He left the kitchen and stood, as nonchalantly as he could, against the restaurant counter, pretending to chat to Katie as he felt the girl walk towards him, closer and closer. He turned. She was even more beautiful close up.

‘Hello,’ she said.

‘Hi there.’

‘You taking our orders today then?’

‘Yeah, that’s right,’ said Matt, focusing hard on getting the right syllables in the right order in the right words.

‘Well, I would like a –’

‘Oh, we haven’t got any hot food today,’ he rushed. ‘Our chef’s still away. Only sandwiches and salads.’

‘And chips,’ said Katie.

‘And chips,’ Matt told her.

‘And tartlets and stuffed peppers,’ she reminded Matt.

‘And tartlets and stuffed peppers,’ he repeated.

‘But no lasagne or pies or anything big,’ Katie said, heading for the kitchen.

‘But no –’

‘Yeah thanks,’ cut in the ugly friend. ‘We can hear her too.’

If the beautiful girl hadn’t blinked her large brown eyes at him in such a kind way, he’d probably have gone back to the kitchen too and never come out again.

‘Oh dear,’ she said to him ever so sadly. ‘I would have liked lasagne.’

Matt felt the pity of her situation thoroughly. In the nano-second before he was about to offer to go and buy her one, or failing that learn how to make one, her friend
broke
in with, ‘So you’re not really taking proper orders then.’ He turned to her and concentrated on her for a moment, reminding himself who she was and where they all were. ‘Are you?’ she demanded. ‘Strictly speaking.’

‘No,’ he answered slowly. ‘No.’ He turned back to the fox, hoping that none of what was happening inside his body was showing on the outside. ‘I’m so sorry, but I can’t take your order today. We’ve got a restricted menu.’

She stared at him.

‘Will you have lasagne tomorrow?’ she asked.

His eyebrows leapt up hopefully, like two Yorkshire terriers whose owner had just come home. ‘Are you coming in tomorrow?’

She leant forward slightly. ‘I will now.’ And then she gave him another grin. He grinned back.

‘Good,’ he said, wiggling his sweaty toes inside his shoes. ‘I’ll look forward to it.’

The ringing in his ears almost deafened her parting ‘So will I.’ He remembered to nod at the ugly friend before turning back and giving the fox another smile, just so she got the message, before she turned round and walked out.

He watched them make their way down the road, and took in every little bit of the fox’s perfect proportions. He only just heard the wolf-whistles coming from the kitchen hatch. He turned to see Sukie and Patsy holding up score-cards. Apparently, he’d got an average of 8.5 out of a possible 10.

‘You weren’t there the whole time, were you?’ he mumbled, nausea creeping up his body.

‘Only from when you started talking,’ assured Katie.

‘Tell me you’re taking the piss.’

‘They’re taking the piss,’ said Katie, looking at Patsy’s 8 score-card. ‘You were a nine. Easily.’

‘You were so cute back there,’ said Sukie. ‘Like a little puppy.’

‘Oh shit,’ moaned Matt.

‘Of course they weren’t!’ rushed Katie.

‘We had the hatch closed,’ added Sukie.

‘Katie kept closing the hatch!’ concluded Patsy. ‘She’s so mean!’

Next day, Matt was in the kitchen washing up when the girl arrived. He walked out, wiped his upper lip and brushed his hand through his hair. Now he knew why some men grew moustaches. It stopped the sweat showing. There she was, sitting facing him, opposite her nasty friend, her eyes flitting round the café. As he came level with Katie, he heard Katie say in his ear, ‘No one’s taken her order yet, Big Boy. Go get it.’ Sukie handed him a pad and pen but his hands felt numb and cold.

He walked onwards, ever onwards, his eyes fixed firmly on her. Just as he reached her table, she looked up at him and gave him a dazzling beam.

‘Hi there!’ she said. ‘We were just wondering where you were.’

His insides galloped at the word ‘you’. One simple syllable, just a consonant and a couple of vowels, and yet, oh so full of glorious meaning. They had wondered where he was. These two grown-up women had discussed him enough to actually wonder where he was. They had actually –

‘Are you all right?’ The nasty one was staring at him.

‘Yes,’ he said.

‘Only you look ill.’

He let out a strangled laugh to give him time to think of the perfect response. Then he laughed some more.

‘Want to join us?’ asked the fox.

‘I can’t,’ he replied. ‘Too much to do out back.’

‘Oh.’

‘But –’

‘That’s a shame.’

‘But . . .’

‘Yes?’

‘We could meet up some other time if you like,’ said someone from inside his head.

‘That would be great,’ grinned the fox. ‘Where?’

‘The Gnat and Parrot? Wednesday, eight o’clock?’

‘Great!’ she laughed. ‘It’s a date.’

‘Oh, what a shame!’ cried her friend. ‘I’m busy.’

The fox smiled across at her and then looked back up at Matt.

‘Looks like it’s just you and me then,’ she smiled. ‘I’m Jennifer by the way.’

‘I’m Matt,’ said Matt cautiously, only too aware of the significance of the moment. He didn’t want to get it wrong and say Pat or something.

They smiled at each other.

‘I’m Eva,’ said the friend.

He looked at Eva and she looked back at him. Then he looked back at Jennifer.

‘Right,’ he said.

‘Next Wednesday,’ said Jennifer, with a big grin on her face. ‘Eight it is. The Gnat and Parrot. See you there.’

‘Well, I’ll see you here first,’ he said. ‘Unless you stop coming, coming here, I mean, but I’ll see you there too.’

‘Great.’

Matt turned slowly and walked back to the kitchen a different man from the boy who’d walked out. He was on cloud nine. He was king of the world! He pitied everyone else for their small, inconsequential lives.

He grinned a little shakily at Katie and Sukie.

‘Well?’ asked Katie.

‘Gnat and Parrot,’ he whispered. ‘Next week.’

They waited until they were in the kitchen to do high-fives. Then Matt took a beer out of the fridge. His hands were shaking. This would go down in history as the day his life changed. He had to be careful not to get run over before next Wednesday.

When Dan arrived back from the store cupboard, neither Sukie, Matt nor Katie took much notice.

‘What are we going to do about next weekend?’ he asked after a while.

Sukie and Katie stopped tousling Matt’s hair. They frowned over at Dan who didn’t elaborate.

Eventually Sukie shrugged. ‘I say we just let it happen,’ she said.

‘Yeah,’ agreed Katie. ‘Chances are we can’t stop time, however hard we try. I go with Sukie’s suggestion.’

‘I second it,’ laughed Matt. ‘’Cos that means I’m even nearer my date.’

The girls started tousling his hair again and he pretended to bat them away.

Dan rolled his eyes. ‘I mean,’ he said, ‘what are we
going
to do about the personnel situation that morning?’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Matt.

‘Well, I’ll be at a wedding all weekend,’ said Dan, ‘as will Katie.’

‘Eh?’ she asked.

Dan looked at her.

‘Sandy’s wedding. I take it you’re going. You were at her engagement party.’

Katie felt for a moment as if Dan was speaking in another language. Then slowly it all fell into place, and her jaw fell into what felt like a ravine. She had completely forgotten Sandy’s wedding. How on earth could she have? After all, she’d met Dan at Sandy’s engagement party! The hen party had been last weekend, but she’d been unable to go because of work duties. She’d even bought an outfit for the wedding which usually helped her visualise, and therefore look forward to, an occasion – and she’d even bought a present off the wedding list (but because that meant making one phone call to the store, it was very easy to forget). She just hadn’t thought any further about practicalities such as how to get there, or where to stay overnight. It had felt so far off. And now the horrible truth was dawning. It was next weekend. And Hugh would be there. As would Maxine. And Dan would be there with Geraldine. And she’d be on her own. It would be the first time she’d be in enforced proximity with Geraldine and Dan since her aborted date with Dan. Would Geraldine keep her distance? Or would she wear Dan like a medal? ‘In fact,’ said Dan, ‘Geraldine’s going to call you and ask if you’d like to travel down with us. There’ll be plenty of room in the back.’

Excellent. She mumbled something about not being able to wait and felt all her will to live seep out of her body. She couldn’t remember much about the following discussion except that everyone around her finally managed to work out suitable cover for the weekend and she said ‘mm’ a lot. Where the hell would she stay? Inside the invitation Sandy had given out details of the hotel where the wedding was, but that would be far too expensive for her and was probably booked by now anyway. She told herself she’d sort it out first thing tomorrow and felt better immediately.

By the time she was ready for her date with Hugh that night however, she was probably more depressed than he was, especially as Hugh was doing the man thing and pretending all was normal. They met at a local Greek restaurant where their mezzes sat uneaten for three hours because they were too busy finishing the wine to remember to eat. Katie found it surprisingly pleasant being with Hugh, like searching through an attic full of childhood memorabilia and finding all her favourite toys in one box. She found herself watching his lips as he spoke and remembering how it had felt to kiss them. And whenever he sat back she remembered nestling into his Aran sweaters and sniffing their Hugh-smell. She didn’t want to now, but it was unexpectedly comforting to remember. She started wondering whether she’d felt like this when she’d been with him and had just forgotten because she hadn’t felt that level of comfort for so long.

When she’d left her flat that evening she’d been
prepared
for lengthy, in-depth discussions of all-things-Maxine, but she couldn’t have been more wrong. Hugh was not indulging in self-analysis; quite the opposite. He was determined to stick firmly to small-talk. The only problem was that, due to the depression he was pretending he didn’t feel, he kept plying Katie with questions but was then completely unable to process the answers, so he would either just ask her another question, or more frequently, the same one again. It was like being on
Mastermind
, with her chosen subject being Katie Simmonds, The Surface, 1990 to the present day.