Take A Look At Me Now

by Miranda Dickinson

  As it turned out, the answers to my questions were only a chance remark away …

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Beware the chance remark

  ‘You’re good at baking.’

  Maya was scrutinising my mixing technique with her impossibly big blue eyes as I led the S-O-S bakers in making fruity flapjacks. I noticed that if I began to stir in the opposite direction, she did the same. I’d never seen so much concentration employed over one bowl of baking mixture before and it was really sweet.

  ‘Thanks Maya. You’re very good too.’

  She shrugged. ‘I know that. My mommy tells me all the time.’

  It was my third week as a guest volunteer at the club and I was thoroughly enjoying myself. The kids had an inbuilt positivity, so much so that I always felt better for having spent time with them. Maya and JJ were my chief mixture tasters, excitedly offering their ideas on what could make the batters ‘even more awesomer’; Declan, a shy boy who had barely spoken two words during my first week, was beginning to respond when I asked for his suggestions about how best to stir the mixtures; while Eva had become my stripy-tights-wearing, sparkly-hair-clipped shadow – wanting to sit with me when we had group time, helping me to set out bowls, utensils and ingredients for each session’s baking and always the first to volunteer for clearing up.

  ‘I think you have a little fan club there,’ Lizzie said as the children proudly carried their still-warm flapjacks to show their parents and guardians at the end of the session.

  I was surprised by how much the children responded to me. Being amongst such characters was incredibly uplifting. Eva amused me particularly, with her opinion on everything and searing wit someone twenty years her senior would be proud of, frequently making me giggle with her remarks.

  ‘Does it hurt to talk like that?’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like you do it.’

  ‘Er, no. Why do you think it hurts?’

  ‘Because when I try to speak British it hurts my throat. I figured it might hurt you too …’

  Many of the things Eva said had no answer, but that didn’t seem to matter to her. She was just excited to be having a conversation and it was a quality I admired. What she loved more than anything was talking about England. She had a lot of questions – most, it has to be said, influenced by a certain Disney film – but I was happy to answer all of them. It made me feel a little nostalgic and brought a piece of home into the hall of Sacred Heart Elementary.

  At the end of the third S-O-S Club session, Eva ran up for a goodbye hug and thrust a crumpled sheet of paper at me.

  ‘I did it for you,’ she beamed. ‘Mom says it’s one of my best. I think it is, too.’

  She had drawn a picture of the S-O-S Club volunteers, with me in the middle and, oddly, the St Paul’s bird woman from Mary Poppins (her favourite scene from the film). All around us were small Vs. ‘We’re all feeding the birds, tuppence a bag,’ she explained.

  Once Eva had given me a gift, more of the children followed suit. Soon, I had a sweet collection of pictures pinned to the wall of my makeshift bedroom at Lizzie’s: a car collage made of scraps of magazine pages from Declan; a crayon drawing of the Golden Gate Bridge with me holding a biscuit that was bigger than I was from Maya; and two portraits of JJ that he gave me ‘so you don’t forget me when we’re not at S-O-S’.

  ‘You know, I’m loving S-O-S Club,’ I admitted to Lizzie one evening, as we tucked into takeaway quesadillas and red and green chilli from Comida Hermosa, a fab little Latin American restaurant not far from Lizzie’s apartment. ‘It’s great to support you too.’

  ‘You know, when I first suggested the club to Tyler he wasn’t sure it would last past one term.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Mm-hmm. Looking back I can see why: I mean, I was completely unprepared for the amount of work needed, not just to run it but also to promote it, secure funding for it and come up with a challenging programme of activities that would be suited to the mix of children it would attract. It’s been a pretty steep learning curve but I’m proud of what we’ve achieved.’

  I took a bite of quesadilla and enjoyed the spices tingling on my lips and tongue. ‘So, come on, what’s the deal with you and Tyler?’

  Lizzie grinned. ‘He’s gorgeous and we get on really well. But even though I’d like there to be more, I don’t get the feeling that he’s willing to go there yet. I think he values our working relationship and doesn’t want to jeopardise it.’

  ‘Have you told him how you feel?’

  A look of horror passed over her face. ‘Are you mad? Of course I haven’t! The moment you even mention the possibility it changes everything.’

  ‘But you’d like it to change, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘Yes, but – it’s complicated, Nellie. Ty isn’t just a great friend, he’s an important ally. Many of the doors that have opened for me here wouldn’t have done so had it not been for his intervention. He’s really respected within the education system and his recommendation counts for a lot. The moment we get involved he could be accused of vested interests and it lessens my claim to the changes we want to make. It’s difficult.’

  ‘You like him, Liz, and he’s clearly interested in you. I think if you took the risk you’d be surprised.’

  ‘Ha, this coming from Miss Play-It-Safe,’ she laughed. ‘Although I can see you’re starting to take some risks of your own, which is good. Like volunteering at S-O-S Club. You’re a natural. And the kids adore you. Perhaps you could consider working with children as a possible career change when you go home?’

  The thought of the decisions I faced when I returned to the UK brought an uncomfortable tightness to my insides. ‘Perhaps. Or maybe I should just stay in San Francisco. Find a Pablo of my own.’

  Lizzie topped up my wine glass. ‘Have you thought what you’d like to do for your next career move?’

  I considered her question and decided now was the time to share my dream career with my cousin. ‘There is one thing – but you’ll probably laugh.’

  My cousin fixed me with a stare. ‘Hardly. I live in The Haight – nothing can be more preposterous than what I see here every day.’

  I took a breath. Even in my closest moments with Aidan I’d never felt the urge to share my secret career dream for fear of jinxing it. But maybe this was the right time and place – thousands of miles from home.

  ‘OK, here it is: I would love to open a diner – a real American diner like Annie’s – but in London. It’s an idea that’s been building for a few years since Vicky and I visited New York and it’s become a bit of a secret daydream for me. The thing is, I think I could do it. I’m never happier than when I’m baking and the thought of creating somewhere that could become a real hub of the community thrills the heck out of me. Of course, I could just be fooling myself. I mean, it’s hardly the best time to start out on my own. I don’t know how I could raise the capital to buy somewhere, or even rent, and I have no idea about how to run a restaurant. But I keep coming back to a mental picture of me being there, serving customers in my own business.’

  I couldn’t work out what Lizzie was thinking. Her expression was thoughtful, but other than that gave little away. ‘So come on, tell me. Is it a completely daft idea?’

  She slowly shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. You aren’t the kind of person who would embark on something like that without really considering all the options. It might be a struggle financially to get established, but after that I don’t doubt you have the tenacity to make it succeed.’

  I had fully expected Lizzie to dismiss my dream; but to hear her support for it meant the world to me. Surprised, I suddenly burst into tears, laughing as they ran down my face. San Francisco was definitely bringing me more in touch with my emotions … ‘Look at me – I’m a wuss! But that’s wonderful, Liz.’

  Lizzie handed me a tissue as she gave me a hug. ‘This really means a lot to you, doesn’t it? Why didn’t you say something before?’

>   ‘I thought it was just a pipe dream – you know, something you think about on Monday mornings when work’s dragging? I thought I was kidding myself.’

  ‘Well, stop thinking like that. The very fact that you’re here shows what trusting your gut instinct can do.’ She stopped, waving her hands as if suddenly beset by a swarm of invisible flies. ‘Wait a minute – that’s it!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You could ask Annie! Come on, Nell, it’s a brilliant idea! There is nothing about running a diner business that Annie Legado doesn’t know. She’s made her diner a success for thirty-seven years and even branched out to establish one in New York, which her cousin runs. She’s an entrepreneur, a visionary and, apart from being slightly scary, is the most driven person I know.’

  The thought of consulting Annie Legado for business advice terrified me more than I’d admit, but Lizzie was right. If anyone could tell me whether I had the potential to succeed, Annie could. ‘Lizzie, that’s a great idea! I’ll go and ask her tomorrow.’

  Lizzie held her hands out. ‘Why wait until tomorrow? We could call her now!’

  ‘Pardon?’

  She leapt off the sofa and grabbed her telephone. ‘I have her number.’

  Panic hit me. I’d only just been brave enough to tell Lizzie what I wanted to do. I hadn’t prepared any questions or thought through what I wanted to know …

  ‘No, Lizzie! Not now … I-I need to think about this.’

  She held the phone at arm’s length from me. ‘What is there to think about?’

  ‘Everything! Please, just wait a minute …’

  ‘Too late – I’m dialling. Hi Annie? It’s Lizzie. I’m good thanks. Listen, I was wondering if you fancied popping over this evening? I have wine.’ She laughed, giving me an enthusiastic thumbs-up, which did nothing to assuage my jangling nerves. ‘That’s brilliant! See you soon.’ She hung up and whooped loudly. ‘Success!’

  I dropped my head into my hands as my thoughts turned cartwheels. ‘What am I going to say? She’ll laugh me out of the room.’

  ‘No, she won’t. I think there was a reason you told me this evening. It’s too good an opportunity to miss.’ Her smile was kind as she hurried into the kitchen to fetch wine and another glass. ‘You were the one advising me to take risks five minutes ago. It’s going to be fine – trust me!’

  By the time Annie arrived I was a nervous wreck, with a barely legible list of questions I’d scribbled down that suddenly seemed nonsensical.

  ‘Hi Annie,’ Lizzie chirped, sending my list speedily into my back pocket as I stood. ‘So glad you could come.’

  ‘You have wine, I have a night off. What’s not to like about this?’ Her face crinkled into a smile when she saw me. ‘Hey, Nell. I hear from Laverne your cheesecake recipe rocks.’

  ‘You can find that out for yourself,’ my cousin replied quickly, lifting up the plate of cheesecake. ‘Care for a slice?’

  Annie lifted her glasses from the chain around her neck to peer at my creation. ‘Good work, lady. Good structure, great presentation. Smells good too. Make mine a large one, Lizzie.’

  Watching The Haight catering legend eating my cheesecake I knew exactly how the contestants felt watching Mary Berry and Paul Hollywood testing cakes on The Great British Bake Off. Minutes seemed to slow to months and I felt every inch of me tensing in anticipation of her verdict. She closed her eyes as she savoured the bite. Was that a good sign? After an agonising wait, she opened her eyes.

  ‘This,’ she said, tapping the plate with the prongs of her fork, ‘is very, very good.’

  I let out the breath I’d been holding in and just about stopped myself from bursting into tears of relief. ‘Is it? Thank you.’

  ‘Nell wants to open a diner,’ Lizzie rushed, not missing a trick. ‘And she wants your advice.’

  Annie’s hazel eyes squinted over the rim of her glasses. ‘For real?’

  I nodded. So did Lizzie. Annie looked from me to my cousin and, unexpectedly, let out a mighty laugh that sent Pablo the Goldfish scurrying for the safety of the stone castle ornament in his tank.

  ‘I’m looking at a pair of Brit nodding dogs. Let me tell you this, Nell, you clearly have the baking skill. But running a diner – or any restaurant – requires more than skill. It can take over your life. In fact, it has to become your life, in the early years at least. I didn’t take a day off in my first three years, save for Christmas and Thanksgiving, and I didn’t draw a decent wage for almost four. It’s hard work, it breaks your heart every day and often you get no thanks. Now you tell me, are you ready for that kinda commitment?’

  Slightly terrified by the prospect, I took a deep breath. ‘If I had the opportunity to make it happen, I believe I would give it everything.’

  Annie considered me for a long time, taking another leisurely bite of cheesecake. With a side-glance at Lizzie, she nodded – her trademark half-smile appearing. ‘Then I’ll give you an opportunity.’

  ‘How do you mean?’ I stared at her, then at Lizzie, who smiled her surprise back.

  ‘Come work for me. Work the breakfast-brunch crowd. Best way to learn the business is from within it. How many weeks you have left now?’

  ‘Five weeks.’

  ‘So. Five weeks, say four days a week: that’s a good base for figuring out if you’re ready yet.’

  Lizzie clapped her hands. ‘That’s perfect, isn’t it, Nell?’

  ‘Wait a moment …’ This was happening too quickly. I needed to jump out of the speeding traffic for a moment, to consider Annie’s suggestion properly. It was a fantastic offer but I was in America on a visitor visa – so working of any kind was not permitted. I knew that much from the careful study of the paperwork I’d made before I left England.

  Then, a thought struck me. In my final year working for the Planning department, the Council had adopted a new scheme for interns – unpaid volunteers who would work with the Planning Officers for up to three months at a time, gaining valuable first-hand experience of working in the career they hoped to enter. Could that work for me here?

  ‘I can’t work on my visa,’ I explained, seeing Lizzie’s crestfallen expression over Annie’s shoulder. ‘But I have a proposition for you: take me on as your unpaid intern for five weeks. I’ll work four mornings a week and you can show me all the aspects of running the diner – and if anyone asks, we can call it extended work experience. What do you think?’

  Annie’s half-smile widened to at least three-quarters. ‘I like you, kid. You’ve got chutzpah. If you’re happy with it, so am I. How about starting tomorrow morning, at six?’

  Heart beating faster than the crazy African drum player on the corner of Haight and Cole, I smiled at Annie and Lizzie. ‘I’ll be there!’

  From: nell.sullygirl@gmail.com

  To: vickster1981@me-mail.com

  Subject: Big news!

  Hi Vix

  You’ll never guess what – I’m an intern!

  I know, thirty-two is a little old to do work experience, but I have an opportunity to work at an American diner. Annie’s – remember the place I told you about two weeks ago? We arranged it tonight. I’m doing four shifts a week for the rest of my stay. I start tomorrow. And I’m so excited about it!

  The thing is – and I probably should have told you this before – but I’ve harboured a dream to one day open a diner ever since we went on that shopping trip to New York. Do you remember O’Hare’s Diner in West Village? While this isn’t running my own place, it’ll help me to decide if it’s just a daydream or if it’s something I could realistically aim for.

  I’m practising my ‘Have a nice day’ and refilling coffee cups even before they’re empty. Can you imagine that?

  Hope all is good with you.

  Love ya,

  Nell xx

  From: vickster1981@me-mail.com

  To: nell.sullygirl@gmail.com

  Subject: Re: Big news!

  That is hilarious!

  I’m picturing you in one of
those cute diner waitress outfits like the ones they wear in my favourite ice cream shop in Brighton. And rollerboots! Tell me there’s a drive-in and my joy will be complete!

  Seriously, Nell, I could see you running your own place. Those cakes you used to bring into work were amazing and part of the reason I was hoping you and Aidan would get back together was that you might start baking again. It’s a brilliant idea and I know you’re going to rock at it!

  Not so bad here. Went for another pointless interview with an agency where I swear I was ten years older than any of the staff. Their idea of an aptitude test was me saying which character from The Only Way is Essex I most identified with. They’re basing personality types on reality TV now! But at least it amused me. Some good news, though – Terry’s just got a job. His nephew works for a property developer so Tel’s advising them on planning law. Nice to see the gang slowly getting back on their feet.

  But go you, diner intern! (That’s my best attempt at being American. Greg says I’m watching far too much Glee at the mo, but I’ve told him it’s either that or Jeremy Kyle …)

  Remember, I need details! Good luck, lovely!

  Vix xx

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Carpe diem

  Next morning I struggled out of bed, after a brief dis-agreement with my alarm clock, not believing the time it was telling me. When I’d agreed to work the breakfast and brunch shift last night it didn’t really sink in that Annie’s opened for breakfast at four thirty a.m. Annie suggested I start at six, which meant getting up at five.

  The smell of toast wafted through to my room and when I walked into the kitchen I found my cousin, bleary-eyed and swathed in a bathrobe that dwarfed her, preparing tea in her Brighton teapot.

  ‘Morning,’ she said sleepily.

  ‘Morning. You didn’t have to do this, Liz.’