The Waitress (42 page)

Thankfully, Katie had time to visit Great-Aunt Edna before such a trial. In the little kitchen, she was unable to wait until the tea had been poured before pouring out her own plans. Great-Aunt Edna listened with eyes alight, and
none
of her custard creams were eaten that day. They talked until dusk. Then Great-Aunt Edna walked her to the front door and gave her a surprisingly firm hug for someone of her small frame. Then she kissed her on the forehead, said ‘Remember what I told you’, and waved her off.

By the time Katie got back home that evening, there wasn’t enough time to discuss her visit: they only had half an hour to get ready. Deanna hardly noticed the change in her daughter; she only knew that things seemed to get done a lot faster than usual.

And so that evening Katie found herself facing two twin-sets and earls. Or rather, earls-as-soon-as-their-entire-cousin’s-families-were-wiped-out-in-a-hideous-tragedy.

‘So,’ Lavinia, the furrier’s buyer, began over soup. ‘I hear you’re at a loose end, career-wise?’

‘Well,’ replied Katie, reluctant to embarrass her mother, ‘shall we say I’m keeping my options open? For the moment, that is.’

Lavinia nodded, dabbing the corners of her mouth with a serviette. ‘I see. So, tell me, what are your thoughts on fur?’

Katie was wondering whether to say that fur was great because it kept animals from looking stupid, when Eligible Bachelor Number 1 spoke up. ‘Ah fur!’ he murmured at Lavinia over his soup spoon. ‘I hear the chattering classes have now decided it’s back in fashion.’

Lavinia smiled. ‘It never really went out of fashion around here.’

He nodded. ‘I should think not.’

They proceeded to discuss the superior demographics
of
a village unsullied by fashion and run entirely on tradition. As they spoke, Eligible Bachelor Number 2 saw his chance. He turned to Katie, as the soup plates were being cleared away.

‘I hear you live in London at the moment?’ he said. ‘I know London very well, we have a house there. Which part?’

Katie told him and he looked at her as if he didn’t quite believe she was telling the truth. ‘Never heard of it. Is it anywhere near Dulwich?’

‘No, it’s north.’

He stared at her. ‘North?’ he repeated. ‘Oh, I don’t know that part at all.’

‘I
love
south London,’ chimed in Susannah, the publisher.

‘Oh you know London do you?’ asked Eligible Bachelor Number 2, almost turning his entire body away from Katie.

‘Oh, God, yes,’ drawled Susannah. ‘I have to go to four meetings a month down there. Dreadfully dull, but at least it’s near Chelsea, and I always pop to the King’s Road.’

And so ended that evening’s potential to further Katie’s career and marital chances, and so began two successful relationships accommodated in four magnificent properties and resulting in five children. It turned out that that day was one of risk-taking for a lot of people.

Katie and her parents finished up in the kitchen, washing the dishes, while the others drank their port. She really was dreadfully sorry for them both, not just for this evening, but for the past few years. So it was good to know that was about to change.

26

Tuesday was mid-June perfection and Katie was woken by the sound of about three-hundred exhilarated birds announcing this happy fact. She was out of bed in the blink of an eye, showered, dressed and out of the house before anyone else awoke, catching a precious dawn hour that gave her a sense of ownership over the rest of the day. She drove through narrow, blossom-hemmed lanes and felt confident that she would see many more such mornings. For she, Katie Simmonds, Cowardess Extraordinaire, was about to change her life and take a risk. She was putting all her eggs in one big, fat, frilly basket. And to her amazement it felt good – like taking the stabilisers off a bike. After all these years, the very thing she’d been scared of had been the very thing she’d needed to do to unlock her spirit. She felt liberated.

Great-Aunt Edna met her at the door, her eyes bright and warm.

‘What say you to a morning cup of tea in the garden?’ she asked with a smile. They shared the bijou garden with all manner of birds proclaiming the news that the sun was hot, the grass was green, the hedges were full
and
the bird bath was glistening. Great-Aunt Edna smiled across her little table at Katie. ‘Changed your mind?’

Katie shook her head. ‘Nope. Not on your life.’

‘Ooh,’ laughed Edna. ‘You don’t want to go betting on
my
life, my dear.’

‘Oh sorry,’ rushed Katie, blushing. What a stupid thing to say to an old person.

Edna gave a little chuckle. ‘It’s far too long and full.’

Katie held up her china teacup and against the backdrop of a soft summer breeze, they clinked to each other’s good health and good luck. ‘Because that is all you really need in life,’ Edna had said when they’d met the day before. ‘Good health and good luck.’

Hugh had never been so grateful for his job. He walked along the city street, breathing in the toxic fumes, watching the other city workers all pacing to work, holding their coffee high, their briefcases low, ear-pieces stuck in place.

He’d popped into the café again today, but Katie still hadn’t been in. Normally that, on top of Maxine not returning his text, would have crushed him, but he had work to go to. He had a job to do. He had a desk all his own, waiting for him. He had mates to gossip with and argue about
Big Brother
with. He had a boss who didn’t take any shit. He had a bonus to look forward to. He had stuff to do. Busy busy busy.

He walked into the office. Early again. Maybe he’d get a rise. All these extra hours he was working. Blimey, that and the exercise. When Maxine next saw him he’d be a new man. Best thing in his life this was turning out to be.
He
heard the lift door open behind him and turned to see who it was. Excellent! His boss.

‘Morning Penrose,’ said his boss. ‘How’s that lovely girlfriend of yours?’

Hugh managed a croak and a smile and then, as soon as his boss had turned the corner, went to the Gents. His stomach had gone peculiar.

When Katie and Edna arrived, life was stirring in the Simmonds household. Sydney and Cliffie had left for work and Deanna and Bea were in the kitchen. Katie sang out a cheery hello from the hall before leading Edna in. Deanna and Bea stared in astonishment at them.

‘I thought you were still in bed,’ Deanna said to Katie before turning to Edna. ‘Hello Auntie. What a lovely surprise!’

‘Hello my dear,’ said Edna. She changed to a gleeful whisper. ‘We’ve been plotting.’

‘Oh God,’ said Deanna, sitting down heavily at the table. ‘Go on. Tell me the worst.’

Great-Aunt Edna turned to Katie. ‘I see what you mean,’ she said. ‘Doesn’t fill you with confidence, does it?’

Katie pulled up a chair next to her mother and placed a hand on hers.

‘Don’t worry Mum,’ she said. ‘I don’t blame you for your damaging lack of confidence in me.’

‘What?’ asked Deanna.

‘Wait!’ ordered Bea. ‘I’m just preparing Eddie’s milk. Wait for me. I don’t want to miss this.’

Edna approached the baby with her face stretched into an enormous smile and over his mummy’s back Eddie
laughed
a delicious laugh. Bea finished preparing the milk, sat down with Eddie in record time and stuck the bottle in his mouth. He guzzled contentedly.

‘Well, you see,’ began Katie. ‘I-I think I know what I want to be when I grow up.’

Deanna and Bea didn’t bat an eyelid.

‘Is it an acrobat, darling?’ asked Deanna.

‘A dog-trainer?’ asked Bea.

‘No,’ said Deanna, ‘no, don’t tell me, don’t tell me, it’s, a . . . bagpipe player?’

Katie sighed and waited for silence.

‘Oh I’m sorry darling,’ smiled Deanna weakly. ‘It’s only my way of putting off the panic attack.’

Katie gave her mother a pained look. ‘Do you usually get one when I say that?’

‘Oh my sweetest heart,’ said Deanna. ‘It kicks in at the sound of your voice.’

Katie was speechless.

‘Right,’ said Edna slowly. ‘I think that’s enough unconditional maternal support. Now for Katie’s announcement.’

Katie mumbled something about the time not being right, to which Edna replied that the timing could not be more right, to which Katie mumbled something about not being in the mood and she’d had a rather tough week what with work and everything. Bea and Deanna were now agog and soon Katie had all three women cajoling her to talk.

‘Great-Aunt Edna and I,’ she began, and Bea gave a little squeal, ‘have decided what I’m going to be when I’m grown up.’

‘Which means,’ added Great-Aunt Edna, eyes twinkling, ‘I will change my will, leaving Katie all my money.’

There was silence. Not even Eddie dared make a noise. Katie went for it.

‘I am going to buy my own café and manage it myself.’

Bea and Deanna processed this information while Katie glanced at Edna. Edna gave her a quick smile which beamed across to her like a lighthouse.

‘And-and,’ said Katie, ‘not just any café. I’m going to ask Mrs Blatchett if she’d like to sell Ye Olde Tea Shoppe to me. That’s where I was when I realised I wanted to invest in a café – yesterday when we were there, Mum. In all honesty, it’s – it wasn’t my first choice,’ she looked over at Great-Aunt Edna. Her voice lowered. ‘I love working where I am and I’d love to stay being manager there. But . . .’ she sighed and Great-Aunt Edna squeezed her hand over the table ‘. . . we’ve thought it all through, haven’t we?’

Great-Aunt Edna smiled. ‘Yes, my dear.’

‘And we do think it would be a very . . .
sensible
choice.’ Katie sat for a while with her eyes down, before looking up at her mother and sister and giving them a wide, if thoughtful, smile.

‘So you’ll be coming home!’ gasped Deanna, and to everyone’s surprise except hers, started crying.

‘Did you hear that?’ Bea asked Eddie. ‘Auntie Katie’s coming home!’

‘Well yes,’ smiled Katie. ‘I hadn’t thought of it like that.’

Now all she had to do was set the wheels in motion before braving her London friends.

‘What’s that look for?’ asked Edna. ‘It’s all going excellently.’

‘Yes,’ said Katie. ‘Yes it is, isn’t it?’

When Dan took the call from Paul he knew something was up. For a start, it had been the first time Paul had contacted him for almost two weeks, and only after Dan had left countless messages on his voicemail. The last time they’d spoken, all Paul had seemed interested in was if he was getting his big city promotion – he was hoping to get the same amount as a bonus as Dan was hoping to achieve as annual turnover. Dan had hoped he might put some of it towards the café, but, from the silence, had assumed Paul hadn’t got it. So his initial response was to be glad to hear from his business partner. However, it didn’t take long before he was fearing the worst. Paul asked to meet up with him that evening in the café; he couldn’t talk now. Then he rang off abruptly. Dan knew it was difficult to talk in an open-plan office full of lads, but why did he want to meet in the café? Why not up in town? Because it was easier for Dan? It was totally out of character for Paul to put Dan’s feelings before his own.

After the call, Dan stood in the middle of the café, eyes down, hand over mouth. Was it going to be good news or bad news? Had Paul got the promotion or not? If he had, would he want to invest any of his increased salary in the café? Or was it bad news? Had Paul fallen into the classic city trap and spent money, only to find that he hadn’t got the promotion and was now in debt? In which case, was he actually going to want to take money
out
of the business? Unfortunately, that sounded much more like the
Paul
he knew and loved. Well, he would just have to be firm with him. This was a business, his livelihood. He was not looking forward to this meeting. He wished Katie was here for moral support.

He suddenly felt claustrophobic. He rushed out of the café, just about remembering to yell to Patsy that he was nipping out for something. As he walked up the hill, he let his mind dwell where he knew it shouldn’t.

The truth was he wished Katie was here, full stop. He missed her terribly and constantly. He missed her in the morning before he got into work because he knew she wasn’t going to be in. Then he missed her all day and only in the evening did he pick up a bit at the thought that she might be in the next day.

Her absence had made him realise that every time he walked out of the kitchen into the café or out of the café into the kitchen, the thought that he was approaching her was a miniature high of his day. And every time he looked up at the monitor in the kitchen and saw a grainy yet unmistakeable image of her, there was another little lift. He’d even been known, while he was on his own in the kitchen, to stand motionless and watch her, safe in the knowledge that no one could see him.

Without her, he felt he was walking with an extra weight of loneliness inside him. And it had only been two days. He had never felt like this over Geraldine, even when they’d split up. What if Geraldine had been right and Katie had had her head upside down when she’d phoned in sick? What if she wasn’t ill but was really busy going for job interviews? What the hell would he do if she didn’t come back?

More importantly, what the hell was he doing feeling like this about Katie when he was engaged to Geraldine? And how vulnerable did that make him, when Katie could turn her own emotions on and off like a light-switch?

Had Katie realised he felt this way about her before he had? Could she tell that he kept having dreams about the time they got stuck in the store cupboard? Was she scared by the intensity of his feelings? Or was it all just a game to her?

Why was she really off sick? Were his feelings repelling her? Frightening her? Nauseating her? Or amusing her?

He got to the top of the hill without even noticing the climb and realised he was out of breath. He turned round and walked slowly back down the hill, telling himself he was over-reacting. When he got back, he walked through the café and straight into the kitchen. He gave a little cough and then made his suggestion.