The Waitress (47 page)

Katie gasped and turned to Sukie. ‘Sukie! That was a secret!’

Sukie was staring at Patsy, who was covering her mouth with her hands. ‘Sorry!’ she squeaked. ‘Nik told me.’

Katie stared at Sukie. ‘You told
Nik
as well!’

Nik decided now was the time to return to the kitchen. Patsy stayed put, chewing her gum aggressively.

Sukie sighed. ‘Katie, I’m afraid it’s not a secret any more.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Katie.

‘I should have told you,’ started Sukie. ‘Geraldine came in here when you were away, showing off her ring like it was the first engagement ring in the world. It’s massive by the way. I made all the right noises, which was easy because I knew already, even though he hadn’t told us, but Geraldine assumed he had. Then he came in while Geraldine and I were chatting, and he wasn’t remotely surprised that I knew already. In fact, he seemed to be really relieved about it.’

Katie frowned. ‘He knew you knew?’ Sukie nodded. ‘But he definitely hadn’t told you?’

‘No,’ said Sukie, shaking her head. ‘He hadn’t said a word about it.’

‘And he definitely knew you knew?’

Sukie nodded sadly. ‘Yeah. Well, he didn’t make any noises about having forgotten to tell me or anything.’

‘And he definitely seemed relieved that you knew?’

Sukie nodded sadly again. They all stood in silent concentration.

‘You know what this means, don’t you?’ whispered Katie finally.

Sukie nodded. Patsy shook her head.

‘It means I was the only person who could have told you.’

Sukie nodded. Patsy frowned.

‘And you know what that means, don’t you?’ whispered Katie.

Sukie nodded. Patsy shook her head.

‘It means he knows I know.’

‘I know,’ whispered Sukie.

‘Know what?’ whispered Patsy.

‘Which means,’ whispered Katie, ‘that he knew I knew at the wedding.’

‘I know,’ whispered Sukie.

‘What wedding?’ whispered Patsy.

‘Which means,’ whispered Katie, ‘that he’s officially a bastard.’

‘I know,’ whispered Sukie.

They wandered off to the kitchen, leaving Patsy standing on her own. She followed them in.

‘Who just phoned?’ she asked.

During a quiet break after lunch, Katie phoned her mother. She knew once and for all that she needed to get out of this café, and now wanted to sort out a deal with Dennis Blatchett before Dan came back to work. Not only did she want to be her own boss, but she didn’t think she could face him. The thought that he must have known all the way back to London in Hugh’s car that she was aware he was engaged, and had done nothing to explain his behaviour or try to placate her, was too painful to bear. Her mother knew something was up – Katie was unable to keep the hurt out of her voice – but Katie told her that she couldn’t talk about it now. They would talk properly later. For now she just had to concentrate on finding the money Dennis Blatchett wanted as soon as possible. When
her
mother explained that she simply didn’t have any more money to lend, Katie accepted that she would have to phone Great-Aunt Edna and beg. Once the decision was made, it was easy to make the call and Great-Aunt Edna had surprised her yet again. She too could hear the pain in Katie’s voice and guessed all too soon that it was caused by a man.

‘My dear,’ she said. ‘Economic independence is much better than chocolate at a time like this – although chocolate helps.’

‘I’ll pay you back,’ Katie sniffed. ‘I promise.’

‘Oh nonsense, my dear,’ said Great-Aunt Edna with a smile in her voice. ‘No chocolate can be that expensive.’

To her surprise Katie heard herself telling her great-aunt that she loved her and the silence from the other end of the phone told her the point had been made and made well. When she rang off, Great-Aunt Edna’s voice had a catch in it.

With one elegant sniff, Katie phoned Dennis Blatchett’s solicitor and explained that she had the money. She waited while he woke Mr Blatchett in New Zealand. When her phone rang again, she answered immediately.

‘Hello?’

‘Hello,’ said Dennis Blatchett’s solicitor. ‘Is that Ms Simmonds, new owner of Ye Olde Tea Shoppe, I’m talking to?’

29

The biggest day of Crichton Brown’s calendar had finally arrived. Friday was a textbook summer day: the endless sky, weightless air and warm breeze made people’s limbs lighter, hearts happier and smiles wider.

Katie arrived extra early, sure that Dan would have to make it in today and would probably do so at the crack of dawn. She was wrong, so she had a long morning ahead of her in which to get riled. She had intended to tell him before anyone else got in that she was leaving. She didn’t want the rest of them to know until after the party, or possibly after she’d signed the paperwork with Dennis Blatchett, but Dan she’d wanted to tell immediately. As she turned the coffee machine on, her plans changed. If he didn’t come in today she wouldn’t tell him at all. She’d just leave, no explanation, and the sooner the better. She’d given him more than enough chances to contact her – made an absolute fool of herself trying to, in fact. So sod him. Time to leave.

By the time today’s commuters started arriving, she had gone one further and decided there was no time like the present and she’d leave straight after the party. She’d tell Sukie and Jon on the way home, pack and then drive back
to
Glossop during the night. She must remember to scrawl through her contact details on the café list before she left, so that Dan wouldn’t be able to call her. Not that it seemed remotely likely that he’d try, but just in case; then it really would be an effective way of getting on with her life. In fact, the thought of getting that wretched roundabout correct this time filled her with nervous determination. Yes, this was it. Tomorrow would be the first day of the rest of her life. She’d pop in on Great-Aunt Edna for breakfast again and then together they’d go to the lawyers and on to the café to celebrate with Mrs Blatchett. Why shouldn’t Great-Aunt Edna be in on all this? It was her money after all. She felt a surge of fondness for her and smiled at the thought of pleasing her. Would she cry? Would they both cry?

When only a rather sour Sukie turned up, followed by a nauseatingly happy Nik and Patsy, Katie began to suspect that Dan actually might only come for the party. Paul was rumoured to be coming with his new fiancée and surely that would bring Dan out of the woodwork? Unless he was unable to face them without Geraldine? She grimaced.

At the end of the 7.14 queue she forced herself to dwell on Dan’s feelings for Geraldine. Could the reason for his absence really be her? Could he truly be this broken hearted by her? That one hurt. It dawned on her that all this time she’d clung to the belief that Dan had been biding his time with Geraldine. Just like she’d clung to the belief that Hugh hadn’t really cared for Maxine. Well, she had to face it. Hugh had been bereft by Maxine’s betrayal and Dan was bereft by Geraldine. Yet again, she was a footnote, not the heroine.

As she made the lunch-time sandwiches, she dwelt on the fact that she couldn’t have got Dan more wrong. The hardest thing in all of this, she mused, would be reminding herself that the Dan she’d met at Sandy’s engagement party and the Dan she’d thought he was at the wedding were figments of her imagination. They did not exist.

‘You know,’ said Sukie to the room in general, ‘when the sun’s out, it really does help you forget that your life is a great big pile of steaming poo.’

Everyone agreed with her.

‘But my life isn’t a great big pile of steaming poo,’ said Patsy happily.

Katie and Sukie gave her a look. ‘You continue to remind us of that, sunshine,’ warned Sukie, ‘and we’ll do our best to rectify it.’

‘To what it?’ asked Patsy.

‘Correct it,’ said Katie.

‘Ah thanks,’ smiled Patsy.

Sukie, Katie and the commuters rolled their eyes, and then Sukie’s and Katie’s widened in stunned silence as Dan walked in. He looked at them all and stopped.

‘What?’ he demanded.

‘What?’ demanded everyone back and then pretended to get on with what they were doing before.

‘What?’ demanded Patsy generally.

‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost,’ Dan told Sukie and Katie.

‘Well, you look as if you
are
a ghost,’ Sukie told him back.

‘Cheers,’ said Dan. ‘“Welcome back” would have done.’

A few of the commuters started welcoming him back
but
the moment had passed. ‘Katie,’ he sighed, ‘can I have a word?’ And he walked past them all into the kitchen.

Katie was reluctant to follow him, firstly because he looked so terrible. Secondly because she was going to miss the group dissection, led by Sukie, out front in the café. Thirdly, because she was now furious that he knew that she knew he was engaged when they’d kissed and had felt no need to defend himself. As soon as she followed him, she heard him tell Nik to leave them alone for a minute. She and Nik stared at each other as they crossed paths and Dan asked Nik to close the door behind him.

Then he stood looking at the floor for a while. She crossed her arms. He looked up and her breath caught. He was crying.

‘Oh God!’ she gasped. She wanted to go to him but was too confused by all her conflicting emotions.

He bit his trembling lip, coughed and impatiently wiped his eyes.

‘I’ve got some bad news,’ he said hoarsely.

Katie swallowed.

‘Paul has withdrawn as a partner of Crichton Brown’s.’ He gave a big sigh and wiped his face with his sleeve. She stared.

‘Financially, you mean?’ she asked.

He nodded.

‘So . . .’ she began, ‘what does that mean? Exactly?’

He gave a short, hard laugh. ‘It means I’m going to have to sell up.’ He gave a very long, hearty sniff.

She stared at him for a while.

‘Is this why you’re crying?’ she asked quietly.

He nodded, blinked and wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

‘And why you’ve been off for the past couple of days?’

He nodded.

‘And why you didn’t return my calls?’

He hid his eyes in his arm. ‘Sorry.’

She was unable to speak for a moment; too many thoughts were going through her mind; let alone emotions, which were looping round the spaghetti junction in her stomach. She opened her mouth, then shut it. Then she opened it again.

‘How much money do you need?’ she asked quietly.

He told her. At this, she was unable to speak again; thoughts, emotions and various bodily functions experiencing momentary gridlock.

To both their surprise, she let out a laugh. He looked up at her and she said affectionately, ‘You are a great twerp.’

He frowned. ‘Well, thank you for being so honest –’ he started, before being unable to continue.

‘No,’ she cut in. ‘I mean – you should have told me earlier.’

‘Really? Why?’ He gave her an earnest look.

‘Because it just so happens that I have that much money.’

Dan gasped. ‘Wha-wha-how?’

‘None of your business!’ she laughed. ‘Now . . . let me see.’ She pretended to think hard. ‘What do I want to do with my money? Hmm.’

‘Can I ask what you
had
planned to do with it?’ Dan whispered.

She started laughing and then tried to work out where to start.

Hugh lay on his rug on the patch of grass that was called a London garden. If he wasn’t able to go into work he might as well get a tan. Anyway, he was absolutely exhausted. He was going to the party tonight at Katie’s café, and maybe she’d like the new, tanned him.

When the doorbell rang, he woke with a start. He tried to ignore it, but the ringing was persistent. Eventually he got up, wiped his face and chest with a towel, put on his flip-flops and stepped into the house. As he flip-flopped through the hall it took his eyes a while to adjust to the dark, and then, when he opened the front door, it took them a while to adjust to the dazzling light again. Then it took them a while to adjust to who was standing in front of him.

‘Hello, Hugh,’ said Maxine. ‘Are you going to invite me in?’

While Sukie, Patsy and Nik waited impatiently outside the café’s kitchen, Sukie’s mobile rang. She gave it a quick look before walking over to the furthest table and taking the call.

‘Hi Greta,’ she rushed. ‘Listen, before you say anything, I have to apologise.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘I have to apologise to you.’

‘Whatever for?’

‘For not taking your advice seriously. For being precious about my stupid art. For moaning about my bad luck when I’ve got my health and my looks and my youth. For not appreciating all the work you do for me. For being a pain in the backside. I’m really really sorry. I know I
don’t
deserve you. I’ve never even made you much money. From now on –’

‘Well all that’s about to change, oh sweetest of hearts,’ laughed Greta.

‘What? More money?’

‘Oh yes.’

‘Another advert?’

‘No, just the part of Lucie Manette in the BBC’s adaptation of
A Tale of Two Cities
.’

Sukie couldn’t believe her ears. She made Greta repeat herself and then swear on her mother’s grave that she wasn’t lying. Greta pretended to be hugely insulted that she should assume her mother was dead – she was a lively octogenarian on a golfing holiday in Malta – but no she was not lying. It turned out that Miranda Armstrong had just won a part in a Hollywood film. It was only a walk-on part, but you don’t turn something like that down. Not if you want to be asked twice. Lucie was hers.

‘Just remember always to keep some mints on you, my dear,’ concluded Greta.

When Sukie finished the call she sat back, gave a squeal and then waited for the elation to hit home. She was rather surprised when she just felt extraordinarily tired and emotional. She wanted to tell Katie and Jon, but forced herself to wait and tell them tonight at the party, when they were all together and when she could toast them a thank you for seeing every single play she’d been in.

Dan stared in disbelief at Katie.

‘A café?’ he blustered. ‘You were going to buy a café?’

‘Yes!’ breathed Katie, ‘I –’

‘You were going to leave me – I mean
us
– leave the café?’