The Waitress

by Melissa Nathan

  “You’re exaggerating, aren’t you?” asked Sukie. “You just mean you didn’t kiss him goodnight?”

  “I mean I left him on his own in the restaurant.”

  “You—you walked out on him while he was eating?” asked Matt.

  “No!” exclaimed Katie. “I’m not an insensitive bitch.”

  “I knew it,” said Sukie. “I knew you were exaggerating.”

  “I waited until he was in the toilets,” said Katie. “And then I left.”

  There was silence.

  “Jesus,” whispered Matt. “And I thought I was in trouble.”

  Sukie frowned. “Let me get this straight—you waited until the man of your dreams was in the Gents and then you walked out of the restaurant?”

  “God. You make it sound like I’m weird.”

  “Before or after dessert?” asked Sukie.

  “Before.”

  Sukie shook her head. “I’ll never understand you.”

  “I know,” sighed Katie. “I don’t want to discuss it.”

  “Was he awful?” asked Sukie.

  “Nope.”

  “Did he smell?”

  “Nope.”

  “Did he grope you?”

  “Nope. I don’t want to discuss it.”

  “Have you phoned and apologized?” asked Matt.

  “Nope.”

  Sukie and Matt sucked in air and shook their heads.

  “Are you going to phone him?” asked Sukie.

  “Nope. And I don’t want to discuss it.”

  There was silence again.

  “So, what are you going—” began Sukie.

  “Nothing,” said Katie, her voice starting to crack. “My life is shit. It couldn’t get any worse. And may I say that I’m really grateful to you both for respecting the fact that I don’t want to discuss it.” She went back out front, leaving Sukie and Matt in the kitchen. Quickly, quietly and without fuss, Sukie went to the dairy fridge and moved the A-4 sheet that had the photo of Dan and Katie to the top of the display of “The Ones Who Got Away” on the meat fridge. Then she joined her friend out front.

  She found Katie, frozen to the spot, staring at the café door.

  Sukie followed Katie’s eyes and there saw Hugh, Katie’s ex number three, approaching, a big grin on his face.

  “It just got worse,” said Katie.

  Hugh was wearing a pin-stripe suit and blue shirt. His eyebrows shot up in surprise at seeing Katie there.

  “I hadn’t realized this was the café!” he exclaimed.

  “I hadn’t realized you wore suits,” she replied.

  “Thanks,” he blushed.

  “It wasn’t a compliment,” said Katie bluntly. “Coffee?”

  Hugh almost laughed loudly enough to hide his blush at the insult and said yes to coffee.

  As Katie made him his drink, he explained that he and Maxine had completed on their house purchase yesterday and had moved in last night. The builders were starting tomorrow to rewire, replumb, reopen all the fireplaces, knock down a couple of walls and enlarge a window or two in their lovely Victorian house.

  “Maxine’s taken the day off work to unpack the kitchen things,” he explained, “I was only able to get a couple of hours off this morning. It’s wonderful, you must come round. We feel like we’ve finally come home.”

  “I couldn’t be happier for you!” exclaimed Katie, so loudly it was almost a shout.

  He grinned and half-saluted her with his paper cup. “I guess I’ll be seeing you in here regularly.”

  “Excellent!”

  “Excellent!”

  She watched him leave and then turned to Sukie.

  “Am I evil?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “Then why am I being punished?”

  They stared at each other as the sound of a strangled animal announced more customers. They stayed staring at each other.

  “Did you just eat a budgie?” Katie asked Sukie.

  “No,” said Sukie. “We’re saving that for the customers.”

  “I can’t look,” said Katie. “I just can’t look. It’s my old maths teacher isn’t it?”

  “No, it’s worse,” said Sukie, looking. “It’s Alec.”

  They stared as Alec chatted animatedly—more animatedly than they’d ever seen him—to two tanned men in cheap and flashy suits, one of whom had an expensive camera. When he spotted them watching from the back corner, Alec raised one eyebrow half an inch and held up three fingers, to represent three espressos. Sukie and Katie both held up one finger back, to represent what he could do with his three espressos.

  Then, mumbling, Katie made the drinks and took them over. As she reached the table, she overheard Alec boasting about the café’s popularity. One man then started waxing lyrical about Porter’s Green’s popular future and the other man joined in about the restaurant business being very popular at the moment. She tried to stop her hands from shaking as she placed their cups and saucers down on the table.

  Alec stared at her.

  “Yeah?” he asked. She’d obviously outstayed her welcome.

  She turned and walked away, her life crumbling around her ears. When she reached Sukie and Matt, they were frowning at the men, one of whom had started taking photographs of the café, the other using a flashy looking electronic device to measure it.

  Alec turned to them, gave them a sick smile and traced a line across his neck with his hand, his eyes fixed on them.

  “Why’s that man pointing a ray-gun at the wall?” whispered Sukie.

  “Why’s Alec doing that?” whispered Matt.

  “We’ve been shafted,” whispered Katie.

  “Why?” asked Matt and Sukie.

  “Those are estate agents,” she said. “Alec’s selling up. So I guess we’re all out of jobs.”

  Chapter 7

  THAT NIGHT, KATIE SAT AT THE BAR WHERE JON WORKED AND SYSTEMATICALLY got herself drunk. She squinted across to where Jon was serving another customer. Bloody customers. She needed him more than they did. Her bowl of peanuts had got all empty again. She started licking out the bowl.

  “I like a woman who knows what she wants,” came a voice behind her.

  She sat up and turned round to find some aftershave wearing a man.

  “That’s nice,” she blinked at him. “What’s her name?”

  “You tell me.”

  She frowned. “Crap name.”

  “What are you drinking?”

  “Peanuts.”

  The man smiled. “That’s unusual.”

  “That’s nothing,” she beamed. “I can fart Dancing Queen.”

  The man’s smile wavered and he sidled away. Tsk, thought Katie. Men are so predictable.

  As soon as Jon returned, handing her a new drink, she started where she’d left off.

  “It’s hopeless,” she moaned, gulping down her drink. “I’m hopeless.”

  “Phone him,” repeated Jon.

  “And say what?”

  He shrugged. “That you’re hopeless, that you like him and you’d like to give it another go. I’d find it incredibly endearing if a girl did that to me.”

  “Even after she’d left you in a posh restaurant by yourself the night before?”

  Jon grimaced. “We-ell,” he started.

  “And I’m going to lose my job.”

  Jon sighed. “But you hate your job.”

  Her face crumpled. “I know!” she started to cry again.

  “I have to serve customers.”

  “Don’t go!” whinged Katie, gripping his arm. “Stay with me.”

  “Katie!” Jon unattached himself. “Do I come to The Café and stop you from working?”

  “No,” sobbed Katie. “You bastard.”

  Katie watched as he served customers for a while until Sukie arrived.

  “Thank God you’re here,” cried Katie, putting her arms round Sukie’s neck.

  “I’m only here because you begged me to come.”

  “Did I?” sh
e said, surprised.

  “Don’t give me that,” said Sukie. “You begged me to be here by ten.”

  “Did I?”

  “Oh God,” said Sukie. “You’re pissed.”

  “Am I?”

  During the next hour, Sukie managed to persuade Katie to phone Dan.

  “That way,” she explained, “you take control again.”

  “Control,” murmured Katie.

  “You’ve got to have control in at least one area of your life.”

  “Have I?”

  “Look,” listed Sukie, “you can’t take control of finding yourself a career—”

  “No—”

  “—or of Alec making you redundant—”

  “No—”

  “—or of your family trying to rule your life—”

  Katie looked at her friend. “Let me know when this is going to start making me feel better—”

  “—or of Hugh turning up out of the blue to see your final humiliation—”

  “Gosh, you’re really helping—”

  “—but the one thing you can do is phone Dan and just explain.”

  Slowly Katie burped. Everything Sukie was saying was true. Thanks to Jon explaining how hard the evening had probably been from Dan’s point of view (it was so useful having a male friend) she’d realized that there was a fair chance Dan was feeling as wretched as she was. Yes, she would phone him. They could start again. And then everything would feel so much better. She was glad she’d talked it over with her friends. Now all she had to do was get home, be sick and go to bed. Preferably in that order.

  Although Katie was petite, Sukie and Jon point blank refused to carry her home that night. Jon insisted he still had back pain from the last time and Sukie had high heels on. Instead, they forced her to drink four espressos and a pint of water before letting her leave the bar. This meant that thanks to them she was physically able to walk home unaided, but couldn’t do it too fast for fear of having an accident.

  Suddenly she stopped. Her body was full to bursting with love for the whole wide world. She wanted global peace and no more starvation almost as much as she wanted to wee. And that was a lot. She squeezed the arms of her friends.

  “I love you,” she whimpered.

  “Thank you,” they said.

  “I do,” she insisted, squeezing them both harder. “I love you both. Even when you really piss me off.”

  “Thank you.”

  “And you know what I’m going to do?”

  “Wet yourself?” asked Sukie.

  “I’m going to phone him.”

  “Excellent,” said Jon, starting to nudge her into walking again. “There’s a phone in the flat.”

  “I’m going to phone him!” Katie started trumpeting, as they walked home. “I’m going to phone him!”

  And then she stopped again.

  “Oh not again,” whined Sukie. “We’ll never get there at this rate.”

  “Katie,” implored Jon. “Please keep walking. I’ve got to finish Chapter 10 tomorrow.”

  But Katie couldn’t talk. She just stared straight ahead of them, a strange sound coming from her mouth. They both followed her eyes and just as she started to whimper, realized why she’d stopped this time. It occurred to both of them that they could try and hide Katie, but then realized that it was too late. They’d been seen.

  For there in front of them, walking toward them was Dan. And he was not on his own. He was with a woman. Arm-in-arm with a woman. And if they all weren’t very much mistaken, that woman was Geraldine. They were still quite a way away, but approaching fast. So far, it was only Geraldine who’d spotted them, but it wouldn’t be long before Dan did.

  “Ubum Dan,” whispered Katie.

  “Act normal,” whispered Jon.

  “Ug, hide.”

  “Let us do the talking,” whispered Sukie.

  “Egg,” whispered Katie.

  Dan spotted them. They all smiled in greeting, Dan and Katie looking at everyone else but each other.

  “Oh my God!” cried out Geraldine shrilly. “How funny! Oh my God. We were just…” She turned to Dan and turned quickly away again. “Isn’t this hilarious?” She shrieked with hysteria.

  “Somebody stop that noise,” murmured Katie.

  “Did you enjoy the party?” Geraldine asked Jon and Sukie, as if her life depended on it.

  They nodded. “Yes thanks,” said Jon keenly. “Nice kitchen.”

  There was a pause.

  “Yes, well,” said Geraldine. “I’ve been invited for a ‘coffee’ back at Dan’s place—say no more.” She winked at them. “Whoops!” said Geraldine suddenly, looking cheekily at Dan. “I haven’t given anything away, have I?”

  “I doubt it,” said Dan quietly.

  “Yes, you’re right,” said Geraldine. “It’s probably impossible to hide, isn’t it?”

  There was more silence.

  “Right,” said Jon. “See you around then.” And they made their goodbyes.

  As soon as they turned the corner, Katie stopped.

  “Do you think all they’re going to do is have coffee?” she asked in a small voice.

  “Yes, of course.”

  Katie stared in front of her sadly.

  “I’m not going to phone him any more am I, Sukie?”

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  Katie started sobbing silently, while Sukie rubbed her back.

  “I’ve ruined my life,” she whimpered.

  “No you haven’t.”

  “I’m going to kill Geraldine.”

  “No you’re not.”

  “You’re right. I’ll hire someone.”

  “No you won’t.”

  “I hate myself.”

  “No you don’t.”

  “I have a shit, dead-end job.”

  There was another pause.

  “Yes,” said Sukie, “but you’re going to be made redundant.”

  Katie started crying again.

  “Let’s get you home,” said Jon.

  The next day, a rather important lunch-time meeting had been arranged between three men in a large chain restaurant just south of Porter’s Green. Two young men sat in the dark corner waiting for their meeting to start.

  The restaurant was practically empty at this time of day, its extensive menu, expensive lighting and exquisite-looking staff an empty stage in front of an echoing auditorium. A waitress appeared from a recess in her uniform of long white apron, black trousers, white shirt, black tie and surly expression. She took their order without a glimmer of humanity and left them alone again. They glanced at each other and shared a moment of mutual understanding.

  Eventually, they took out their copies of the accounts for one last look before the meeting began.

  “I’ll leave all the talking to you,” said the shorter, fairer of the two men, whose face even in this dim light, resembled an anxious mule.

  “You sure?” asked the other.

  “Yeah yeah. This is your baby.”

  “Hardly. You’ve been there much more than me. I’ve only seen the place once and that was at the weekend.”

  “That’s only while you’ve been training your replacement,” said the mule. “I won’t be able to pop in at all once the partnership’s up for grabs and the bonuses get underway. As long as you know you’ll be doing it mostly on your own after that.”

  “Of course, as agreed,” nodded the taller, darker man. “I’m just grateful you trust in me enough to help with this investment.”

  The mule smiled. “I trust you like a brother. And believe me, you’re definitely primary carer.” He lifted his coffee cup.

  “All right, but you’re the donor father.” They clinked cups. “You still have rights.”

  “Yeah, well. I hereby call on my right to let you do all the talking.”

  “OK, if you’re sure.”

  “I am.”

  Bang on time, ten minutes later, another man entered the restaurant. Had anyone cared enough to observ
e him, with his body-built shoulders packed into a costly overcoat, his year-round tan and signet ring consciously donned to play the part, they might have guessed he was part of the local Mafia.

  He approached the men in the corner, greeted them with the single word “Boys,” and shook hands firmly with them, his jaw clenching on his chewing gum at each downward shake. He called the waitress “darling,” pulled his trousers at the thigh before sitting down, stroked his tie, flashed his teeth and began.

  “Right, well,” he said, rubbing his hands. “It’s good news all round. I got the call first thing this morning. As you know, you are one of the few who’ve been asked to put in an offer.”

  The two men grinned stupidly, and the man immediately raised his hand, like a policeman halting traffic.

  “But let’s not get carried away.” A shadow appeared at his right shoulder. He looked up at the waitress as she placed his espresso on the table. “Thanks, darling,” he said softly. She turned to go. “Er!” he called out. She stopped and executed a slow 180-degree turn. He stared at the table, his hand still up.

  “Some sugar please, good girl.”

  She barely registered that she’d heard him, before turning away again. He delicately put the tip of his index finger against his mouth, as if deep in thought. The men waited in silence. Then the waitress appeared again out of the shadows, placed the sugar quietly down beside the coffee and disappeared again. The man nodded slowly and took his finger away from his lips. He tore open the packets and added two sugars, stirring thoughtfully, then tapped the spoon several times on the edge of his cup, straightened his tie and took a sip, pinkie out. He looked at the men.

  “Where was I?”

  “We mustn’t get carried away,” repeated the nominated speaker.

  The man nodded slowly, as if the thought had only just occurred to him. He placed the cup back in the saucer, signet ring flashing.

  “In the end, only two other people have been asked.” The men raised their eyebrows in surprise. He nodded again. “I know. After all that fuss, only two. One is a rival from this neck of the woods, owns that new French café up the road, and he’s trying to start a small, local chain. The other is a very big chain.”

  The men both grimaced.

  “Now, now. Don’t give up on me. I think we’re in with a chance.”