plenty of dosh now, and would take another trip to Soho tonight.
7
During the next couple of weeks Pearl made a point of chatting to Derek Lewis whenever she got the chance, and this had certainly done the trick. The other costermongers still ribbed her, but in a friendly way, and their jokes were no longer smutty. On the whole she enjoyed the waitressing job. As long as she kept her head down and showed Mrs Dolby respect, the woman wasn’t too bad.
Pearl still felt like an outsider, but had learned a lot. There seemed to be unwritten rules in this little community. There was a strict code that no matter what you saw, or heard, you didn’t speak to the police. People round here took care of any problems in their own special way, but how they did it was still a mystery to Pearl. She had heard snippets of conversation – talk of keeping to your own patch and not treading on anyone’s toes – but had no idea what it meant.
It was a busy morning, about a month after Pearl had started working at the café. She wiped a hand across her forehead. ‘Can I have my break now, Bernie?’
He was about to answer when a tall, buxom woman walked into the café. As she approached the counter Pearl’s ears pricked up.
‘Are you still looking for a waitress?’
‘Yes, we are. Take a seat and I’ll get my wife.’
Bernie winked as he passed her, but Pearl frowned. It was hard work managing all the tables on her own, but if Mrs Dolby took this woman on, she’d miss the extra ten shillings a week in her wage packet.
When Dolly came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her large white apron, Bernie followed behind. ‘Right,’ she said brusquely, as she sat opposite the woman, ‘my husband tells me you’ve come about the job.’
‘That’s right.’
‘Have you had any experience?’
‘I’ve been a waitress in the Trafalgar Café at Clapham Junction for three years, but now they’ve sold the place to Greeks and they’re turning it into an omelette bar.’
‘An omelette bar? That’s a new one on me.’
‘Me too. I could stay on, but don’t fancy it somehow.’
‘I can’t believe the old Trafalgar Café has been sold. It’s been in the same family for years.’
‘I know, but old Mrs Watson wanted to retire and none of her lads would take it on.’
‘Tell me a bit about yourself.’
‘My name is Alice Freeman. I’m thirty-two and live just off Falcon Road. I’m married, with one daughter.’
‘How old is she?’
‘Yvonne’s eleven.’
Dolly pursed her lips. ‘The hours are six thirty to three thirty. How are you going to manage that with a kid of eleven?’
‘It isn’t a problem. My mother lives next door and already looks after Yvonne while I’m at work.’
‘Right, so I suppose it’s down to pay. What are you earning now?’
‘I’m on three pounds a week.’
Once again Dolly pursed her lips. ‘All right, we can match that. When can you start?’
‘On Monday.’
‘Right then, the job’s yours.’
‘Thank you,’ Alice said, smiling widely.
Pearl picked up the plates, her thoughts racing as she took them through to the kitchen. It didn’t seem fair that Dolly had offered Alice three pounds a week when she, Pearl, was earning only two. They’d be doing the same hours, the same amount of work, but because the woman was older, she’d be paid more.
Gertie turned to give Pearl a grin. ‘If someone’s applied for the waitress job, things will be a lot easier for you. You’ve been running around like a blue-arsed fly since you started and must be fair worn out.’
‘I don’t mind.’
‘What’s she like?’
Before Pearl could answer, the door swung open, Mrs Dolby walking in with Alice Freeman behind her. ‘Gertie, Mo, this is Alice. She’s starting work with us on Monday.’
‘Hello,’ Gertie said, Mo following suit, both looking at the woman appraisingly. Alice was a strong-looking young woman, with fair hair pulled back in one long plait that hung down her
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