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Lizzie's Tale

Page 17

by Graham Wilson


  Chapter 13 - A Business Success

  By the end of the second day the house was done. The floors were fixed, walls painted with fresh paint, another stove and new cupboards were in the kitchen, the weeds were removed from the yard and all the trees and bushes trimmed to give a semblance of neatness.

  There were four tables and chairs with red checked tablecloths that someone had found, along with a bed, dresser and wardrobe in her room, all were donations said to have come from people who knew people who knew people. In the kitchen was a big assemblage of kitchen pots and implements that she could use to get her cooking started. The only thing lacking was a refrigerator and she had money to buy this herself, though she would not be surprised if one miraculously appeared, in the way that so many other things had.

  She felt a huge sense a gratitude to this town and its kind people who had accepted her and taken her into their hearts. It made her feel she belonged here. Not that she could tell these people who she really was, but here everyone had a story.

  As the work was finishing up she noticed one of the men from the boat crew working away with a tin of paint, doing some paintwork on an old school blackboard resting on an easel. This man was just completing his task, the words now appearing; “Lizzie’s Luscious Little Luxuries”, in cursive script with a pretty floral border. She looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

  He laughed, “You can always change the name later, but our work is not complete without it having a name, so I did this.”

  The sign had creative flair, beautifully done; she rolled the words around her tongue. It was not what she would have thought of herself and “Luscious” evoked strong memory connections. But, what the hell, it was a part of the life that had brought her to this place. Plus the words seemed to work together, they flowed into a mental image which she liked, maker of things which gave others pleasure. So she would let it stay that way and see if it still fitted when the restaurant opened. It could be distinctive enough to work, even if using her own name seemed a little vain.

  Tonight was her last night in the hotel, and there was a party atmosphere. She went to the publican and said she wanted to pay for dinner for all her friends.

  He laughed and said. “You must be joking. Tonight is our welcome to you, not often we get someone so new and fresh faced in this town, and someone with so much get up and go. So we have all decided that tonight is for you, to say you are part of our town now and we are glad you have come. This meal is on me.”

  Then, seeing her anxious look, as if she thought it was too much, he roared laughing. “It won’t cost me, I will stand the dinner, but I will get my money back double over the bar, the crew are flush with wages from their trip away. They would already have spent them but for the fact that Alec told them they could not have a big blowout until your house was fixed. So that has redoubled their efforts to get it done today. Tonight they will make up for lost time.”

  It took another week until she was ready to open, and her first patrons were those who had helped to do the work. She tried to insist that they each did not pay. It was useless; getting them to take change from the five and ten pound notes they proffered was hard enough. However other guests were flowing in as well. Within another week, she had a girl helping. Within a month her staff had grown to three plus herself, albeit that two were part timers.

  Her first worker, Ruby, was a part aboriginal girl with lovely honey coloured skin and a warm smile, Alice, a motherly figure, was her second employee and she soon had given her a full time job. Alice had raised her own children in Perth then, when they all left home, she had left her husband and worked as a cook in various places along the coast. She had just come to town herself, arriving in the same week that the restaurant opened. She was convinced this place would be a success; she said she knew if from her first glance, and wanted to be part of it. So she invited herself to help and said she was prepared to work for no wages until the money came in. The extra takings after her first week more than covered her wages. The third employee was a young Chinese man, Tom. His father was a market gardener on the edge of town. Soon he was bringing Asian greens to add to the menu.

  It all happened so fast that Lizzie had a pang of concern that she had lost control of her own business before it had properly started. But it worked and they all worked well together. Mostly it was Alice in the kitchen, Tom and Ruby waiting on tables and Lizzie ensuring that the guests were happy and preparing a range of specialty dishes and sweet deserts; some of Greek origin that Elena taught, some taught by her mother in an earlier life.

  Five years flew by. Now Lizzie had several thousand dollars in the bank. After a year she had enough money to buy the house that was the business premises, and the next year she bought the next house in the street. So she and Catherine now had a private place of their own. It also made space for more tables. Since then she had also bought a warehouse near the docks to store the various items she shipped in.

  The business now had eight employees in Broome, and last year she had opened a second business with five employees in Derby. Its managers, Tom and Ruby, now had a child of their own. She knew she could trust them and one day they might buy her out. For now they shared the profits, each benefitting from the other.

  The most profitable part of the business was the food supply part. It sold food to a wide range of other places around the district, stations, boats, travellers and the new surge of miners. She also ran a catering service for private functions; weddings, parties, business events, they were all good clients.

  Lizzie tried to spend most of her time in the restaurant premises. She knew that her regular clients wanted to be able to say hello, and for new custom it was the first impression that most counted. Those who enjoyed a lovely meal with good service and her friendly banter were far more likely to return, even those who came only for a cup of tea or an iced drink on the verandah or in the shady garden, surprised her with their repeat business and the way they passed her name on to others.

  She now had the grounds and garden looking lovely, beds of colourful plants and tropical flowers. She repainted the outside every year and kept the whole place spotlessly clean and tidy to create a good impression.

  She remembered Madam’s words, ‘Our job is to provide good service to our customers, those who don’t want to do so can move on.’ She wrote these words on a sheet of cardboard which sat in a prominent place in the kitchen.

  The only workers she sacked were those who were lazy or slovenly, and for first warning she would take them to these words again and ask them to read them back to her. Most took heed. On a second occurrence their wages would be made up and pinned to the sign, and they would be gone. If they challenged her she would say that they had their chance, now if they wanted to work that way they had they should go and find another place that liked their way better than she did.

  She also told a couple who she thought had promise that once they grew up and learned the value of hard work they were welcome to apply for another job when one came up, after at least six months. In two cases she re-employed people. They now were great employees and thanked her for teaching them a good life lesson.

  Her reputation grew as the business prospered, the diminutive lady with the lovely smile and the sharpest business brain in town. Some people at first thought she was a soft touch; few left a meeting with her still thinking that. She had a mixture of kindness and competence, she would readily donate to any charitable cause, but she always made sure her prices, while fair, left a margin to pay her staff well, and make a profit for the business. Again she remembered Madam’s maxim, ‘fair share for the owner, fair share for the business and fair share for the workers’. So while she would give discounts for volume, it was always based on the real cost. People said she had a brain like an adding machine in working out all her costs. She flatly refused to discount to undercut other town businesses. If others did so and customers asked her to match, she would smile sweetly and say to them, “Well if they are of
fering it at that price and that is all you can pay you should give them your custom.” Few did, and never her loyal customers.

  She used a brochure that Elena designed to help her promote the business. It had her photo on the front, along with a list of services offered and some indicative prices. Elena would hand it to all prospective clients that she encountered, and in the port there were many, boat owners, miners, goods importers, other business owners. Elena even posted it out to prospective clients in other states.

  At first she would be surprised when people that she did not know would contact her, often just arriving at her restaurant and talking to her as if they knew her well. But she soon realised that Elena had hit on a wonderful marketing tool which worked, and as time went by she grew more comfortable with being a well known identity.

  The town was growing strongly and there was plenty of business for all to share. Plus she was good to her employees. While she expected hard work she paid them well and favoured local employment, giving clear preference to those with a connection to the town, jobs which gave real opportunities for town’s sons and daughters, across the full range of the different parts of the community, black, white, Chinese and other.

  She realised that she was a subject of gossip and some minor envy, but she was determined to give back to this town which had given her a new and stable home.

  Catherine was now at school, and her best friends were Elena’s children, though she was forever bringing in new friends, gathered from all quarters. They all loved to come to this place; mostly it was for the sweets and ices that she served after school for those who visited. Often she would have five or six children lined up at the counter, each with an icy cold drink on the way home from school.

  She gave each child their first one of the week free, and then after that she would offer them to school children for half price. Sometimes Catherine would pay for her friends with the pocket money she earned from doing jobs around the restaurant. She told Catherine, once at school, that she must pay too; determined she should know the value of money.

  Her favourite nights were when all the boat crew was back in town. Then a special Greek feast was arranged and she and Elena would work together for an afternoon, helped by Alice and her staff, along with a tribe of kids, all wanting to sample the delicacies, particularly the sweet pastries.

  Then nights would turn into occasions of wine and song, everyone laughing and dancing the traditional Greek dances as the record player kept the music going. They were all such good friends to her.

  The only thing that perplexed others and she could not quite explain to herself was the way she avoided all deep contacts with men, most particularly unattached men. A succession tried to woo her; some in subtle and romantic ways, some more directly. She was never rude but found a way to put a distance, an ice shell that was impermeable. At times Elena tried to probe, but this was the one place in her life that she would not share with this best friend. A distant smile, a flick of her head, or a dismissive wave of her hand; now people seemed to accept her this way, most just let it be.

  Sometimes in nights alone, particularly now Catherine rarely came to her bed, she would dream man dreams. But there was only one face that came to them, and when she woke he had retreated out of reach, leaving a feeling of faint regret and that most ethereal sense of Robbie’s essence, now having become so distant that it only remained clear in dreams.

  But in the daylight hours her life was busy, so she pushed thoughts of her other lives away. She had more than enough, her daughter was safe and happy with a tribe of friends and, even if Catherine did not have a father, she knew that her mother and a tribe of aunts loved her.

 

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