The Waitress (30 page)

‘Why do you think there’s a reason for it at all?’ asked Sukie.

‘I don’t know. It all just seems odd.’

‘Oh dear,’ said Sukie. ‘I have a really bad feeling about this. You want there to be a reason, don’t you? You want to discover that Dan is somehow trying to engineer it so that he and you can go to the wedding together where he can confess that he’s in love with you.’

Katie gasped, swallowed and then gasped again. ‘Do you mind?’ she spluttered.

‘Good,’ said Sukie. ‘Because it’s not going to happen and I don’t want you to be disappointed.’

Katie gave a sad little whimper. ‘You could at least pretend you’re on my side.’

‘I
am
on your side, that’s why I’m being cruel to be kind.’

It wasn’t until they had gone their separate ways and Katie was walking up the hill on her own that she realised Sukie really was on her side. Because in the cold light of day, if she was really honest with herself, she knew that part of her had been hoping for exactly what Sukie had said.

It appeared she still had some of the Dan Crichton Virus in her bloodstream. And from past experience with DCV, she knew what that meant. Short of getting a blood transfusion she would just have to wait until it made its way out of her system naturally.

Matt wouldn’t show his face in the restaurant until Friday. Gradually the Alp region of his nose diminished to one of the least dramatic Lake District areas. It became less angry too, more resembling a Barbie tutu than a raging planet, but nothing could induce him to move from his place at the dishwasher, especially since Patsy had pointed out to him that the hot steam would help it reduce at a greater speed. If he could, he’d have put himself in a short cycle. By Friday afternoon, however, he knew he would have to brave the restaurant to ask Jennifer out again, otherwise their love might never be consummated.

He took a deep breath and went to their table at lunch-time. Thankfully, Jennifer didn’t seem to notice the spot, but then that was probably because she didn’t really give herself the chance to. She seemed unable to look him in the eye and instead looked at Eva when she was answering him.

‘I’ll make it up to you,’ he said. ‘I promise.’

Jennifer looked at Eva. ‘Whatever,’ she said in a pleasant sing-song voice.

‘So?’ he said. ‘Saturday night?’

Both girls spluttered with laughter.

‘Er, I’m busy!’ Jennifer told Eva.

‘Sunday?’

Jennifer gave Eva a nod and Eva drew her eyes to his for the first time in the entire conversation. He fought the urge to hide his nose. She didn’t pay any attention though because she was far too busy looking haughtily unimpressed by him.

‘Mhm,’ she said curtly before looking away.

‘Same time and place?’ he asked, beginning to feel smaller than the spot, which wasn’t too difficult.

Jennifer nodded at Eva and Eva said ‘mm’, this time without looking at him. Then the girls started talking about something else and he wandered back to the kitchen where he hoped he’d find a knife sharpener, so he could sharpen a knife to fall on.

He stood leaning on the counter with his face deep in the dishwasher steam, not knowing whether his tears were from heat or mortification. He would never lie again. Whatever the consequences would have been from telling Jennifer the truth, they could not be worse than this feeling. Had Eva told Jennifer the hideous truth? Or had he already hurt Jennifer? If only she’d given him a chance to explain his ‘illness’ properly – but he knew it was not an explanation, it was a fabrication, a story, a concoction. She deserved better. She hadn’t even gone out with him yet and he’d already lied to her. Women were right: men
were
bastards. He felt ashamed to be one of his own kind. It was moments like this that belied the Bible’s claim that God made man in his own image. He was willing to bet good money that no other creature had ever felt such burning humiliation and yearning regret. (Except perhaps for Barney, his nan’s dog, who’d eaten the entire double chocolate Victoria sponge cake she’d made for Matt’s third birthday and while being scolded by his beloved owner reproduced it for her on her favourite rug.)

His wretched musings were interrupted by Katie. She had no time for his dilly dallying today. There was far too much to do. She was having a late lunch-break to squeeze in a leg, underarm and bikini wax for tomorrow’s wedding, and now deeply regretted such a rash decision. For a start, there really wasn’t time. Secondly, why on earth was she having a bikini wax? She’d never yet seen wedding photos where the guests showed their knickers. And finally, she was paying money to have her body hair ripped out from its follicles without the aid of general anaesthetic.

At two o’clock, she hot-footed it down to the local hairdresser’s where a tiny, dark, airless corner had been separated off by an MDF wall and turned into a high-class beauty parlour. The heady aroma of fear and damp sweat hung in the air as ten minutes later, she lay, waiting for the warm wax on her leg to be ripped off by Loretta.

‘You watching
Big Brother
?’ asked Loretta. She mixed some more wax. ‘It’s so good this year. I’m addicted.’

And
rip
.

Katie’s body went into minor shock, small quivers of relief rippling through it.

‘And just bend your leg there and – that’s right – and that one there – that’s right.’

More hot wax.

‘It’s much better than last year. I can’t even remember who was on it last year.’

And
rip
.

Katie’s body went cold.

‘I hate Damian. I
love
Jimmy.’

And
rip
.

Katie held her breath.

‘My mum’s the opposite. She hates Jimmy and loves Damian.’

And
rip
.

Katie stared hard at the ceiling.

‘But I don’t. I hate Damian. And I love Jimmy.’

And
rip
.

‘Can you just turn over a bit? That’s it. And whasisname? That gay one. He’s
so
funny.’

And
rip
.

Katie started taking long deep breaths.

‘Ooh look!’ said Loretta. Katie was scared to. She didn’t want to see her own skin in someone else’s hand. She looked. Loretta was holding out her fingers.

‘Chipped a nail. That cost me £15!’ Sigh. ‘I’ll go back, they don’t mind.’

Katie sank back down on the bed.

‘And that girl, whatsername? Debbie. She’s meant to be engaged. If I was her boyfriend I’d chuck her.’

And
rip
.

Katie clenched her fists. Her wet eyelashes were squeezed shut but still leaked.

‘Ooh, sorry,’ said Loretta. ‘Didn’t get it all. I’ll just . . .’

And
rip
.

Katie lay back exhausted.

‘Right then,’ said Loretta sweetly. ‘All done. If you just want to get yourself ready, I’ll be out front.’

Katie heard the door shut and lay on the bed listening for the sound of her follicles weeping. Half an hour later she was standing back in the hot café, plucked like a chicken and roasting nicely.

When Sukie got the phone call from Greta her agent, how was Katie to understand the massive implications? She had no reason not to be excited for her friend.

‘Another audition!’ she repeated, clapping her hands in girlish glee.

‘For
A Tale of Two Cities
!’ sang Sukie.

‘Wow!’ sang Katie.

‘Down to the last five!’

‘Fantastic!’

‘Tomorrow morning!’ rejoiced Sukie.

Katie stopped dancing. ‘Oh,’ she said.

Sukie stopped dancing. ‘Oh,’ she said.

‘Damn,’ Katie said. ‘You mean I’m going to have to work Saturday morning instead of setting-off early to go for a pub lunch with Hugh?’ She smiled.

Sukie gave her a hug and went out to tell Dan.

When Hugh popped into the café on his way home from work to check yet again what time tomorrow morning he would be picking her up, she broke the news gently to him. ‘Oh, I see,’ he said, a few times.

‘I’m really sorry,’ she said. ‘Can’t be helped.’ She
turned
to Dan. ‘Dan would come in but he doesn’t like to use the coffee machine.’

Dan smiled. ‘I’d love to come in but Geraldine isn’t needed at work after all, so we’re setting off for the wedding early, make a weekend of it.’

Katie nodded and then turned to Hugh. ‘
And
he doesn’t like to use the coffee machine.’

‘You must show me some time,’ Dan called out to her. ‘And I’ll show you how to invest all your money in a new business and employ staff.’

Geraldine wasn’t going to let it spoil her evening out with Dan and his parents. In fact she wasn’t going to let anything spoil her evening out with Dan and his parents. She’d just confirmed that she wouldn’t have to go into work tomorrow morning. When Dan picked her up from her flat, she almost flew into his arms.

‘Wow,’ he said, letting her hug him hard. ‘What’s all this about?’

‘Nothing,’ she said, kissing him again. ‘I’m just happy, that’s all.’

‘That’s good.’

‘Yes,’ she smiled, giving him another kiss. ‘It is, isn’t it?’

They sat in the car in silence, Dan wondering how on earth he’d keep up the conversation with his parents tonight. Thank goodness for Geraldine.

‘I booked The Avenue,’ she yawned, ‘Asked for a corner table.’

‘Excellent.’

‘Had a complete bugger of a day.’

‘Oh yes? Why?’

‘That line of Retrouvez sofas I ordered turned out to look like The Pier cast-offs. Bryan nearly killed me.’

‘How come? Didn’t you see them in Paris?’

‘Yes, after a week of fourteen-hour days, and with half an hour to make a decision.’

‘Well tell Bryan that. He’ll understand.’

‘I can’t,’ she tutted.

‘Why?’

‘“Oh sorry Bryan. Turns out I’m not good at snap judgments after all. Maybe you’d like to give someone else sixty grand a year plus bonuses.” ’

Dan chuckled.

‘What?’ asked Geraldine.

‘I was just thinking about your snap judgments. First thing you said about my father was “I bet he doesn’t suffer fools gladly.”’

Geraldine smiled. ‘How are they?’

‘Don’t know. Haven’t had time to speak to them.’

‘You are terrible,’ admonished Geraldine fondly. ‘
I
speak to them more than you.’

‘Perfect.’

She stroked the back of his head, looking approvingly at the odd silver hairs at his temples, which she felt added dignity.

The Avenue was packed and as soon as they arrived Dan realised that spending several hours in a restaurant was the least relaxing way he could possibly spend an evening, second only to spending an evening in a restaurant with his parents. From the moment he walked in, he was unable to shake himself out of a creeping awareness of every last detail, from the waiters’ trendy
outfits
to the pianist in the corner. He decided to use his stop-watch for the time it would take for their orders to arrive.

His parents had been there for half an hour, his mother, Harriet, in soft fawn cashmere and soft fawning mood. His father, Albert, must have been having one of his days.

‘Hello darlings,’ cooed Harriet, raising her softly powdered cheek for a kiss from both, resting her gentle, veined hands on their arms.

‘Geraldine!’ greeted Albert, his face creasing into a warm smile and the lines round his eyes stretching all the way to his hairline. He turned to his son and heir. ‘Daniel,’ he said fondly, giving him a firm handshake.

Geraldine and Dan sat in the appropriate seats, Geraldine next to Harriet, Dan next to Albert, the women with their backs to the restaurant. As Albert gave his menu opinions in a commanding voice, Harriet whispered her approval of Geraldine’s choice of restaurant and table. After the food decisions were made, the wine approved by Albert and all journey tales exchanged, they got down to business.

‘Well?’ demanded Albert. ‘And how’s my son the restaurateur?’

Dan achieved a weary smile. ‘Fine thanks,’ he replied. ‘It’s tiring, but I think it’s going to be OK.’

‘Not regretting it?’ his father frowned.

‘God no, of course not.’

‘Good. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.’ They all nodded, having heard Albert Crichton’s favourite sayings many times before. ‘One day you’ll be running a place like this.’ They all followed his eyes round the smart
Hampstead
restaurant. ‘Only with a better hors d’oeuvres selection,’ he added.

‘You can always have some of mine if you don’t like yours, dear,’ remarked Harriet. ‘You love moules.’

‘And why would I prefer yours to the one I chose?’ asked Albert in mock surprise.

‘It’s just an option,’ she said quietly, ‘should you so decide.’ She turned to Geraldine. ‘And how is my favourite couple?’

Geraldine smiled at Dan and laid her hand over his on the white tablecloth.

‘We’re absolutely fine thank you, Harriet.’

‘Oh
good
,’ said Harriet. ‘Good.’

‘In fact,’ Geraldine squeezed Dan’s hand and looked at him. He looked back at her. She raised her eyebrows in a question. He gave a little frown. She did it again. He gave her a relaxed smile and she then gave him a little shrugged grin. ‘Shall I tell them?’ she half-whispered.

‘Tell them what?’

‘
You
know!’

‘Tell us what?’ asked Harriet quickly.

‘Search me,’ shrugged Dan. ‘I haven’t got a clue.’

‘Oh
you
!’ cried Geraldine, trying to hide her disappointment. She turned to Harriet conspiratorially. ‘He’s no fun at all.’

‘Oh,’ said Harriet, crestfallen.

They all leaned back one-by-one as their hors d’oeuvres were placed in front of them.

‘What’s this, my boy?’ winked Albert. ‘About to make an honest woman of her?’

‘Oh Dan!’ gasped Geraldine with delight.

‘What?’

‘Well we have to,
now
!’

‘Have to what?’ he asked.

‘Oh Daniel!’ complained Harriet. ‘You’re determined not to let us have any fun.’

‘I am not!’ he cried. ‘I just don’t know what’s going on.’

Geraldine turned to his parents.

‘Well,’ she said. ‘If your only son won’t let you in on our delicious secret, I can’t.’