The Waitress (29 page)

‘OK, my turn now,’ he said. ‘Can I ask something?’

‘Am I allowed to say no?’ she smiled.

‘Of course!’ He put his arms up in mock-arrest.

She shook her head. ‘Go on then.’

‘It’s not a boss thing, it’s a . . . friend thing.’

She gave him a long look. ‘I don’t let many friends tell me what to do all day.’ He gave her a small smile. ‘Or remind me that they pay my wages.’ She took a sip of her drink. She looked up and saw an endearingly apologetic
expression
. She took another sip of her wine, so as not to hug him.

‘OK,’ he said quietly. ‘I deserved that. You’re right. I can’t have it both ways.’

‘No,’ she cut in. ‘Go on, ask the question. As a friendly boss.’

He took a deep breath. ‘I know you’re waiting . . .’ he started.

She froze. ‘Waiting?’

‘Yes. For the right job.’

‘Ah.’

‘And I just wondered why?’

There was a pause.

‘And?’ she asked.

‘That’s it.’

‘That’s it?’ she repeated.

‘Well, what I mean is, what are you doing wasting your time and your considerable talents, skills and brainpower, being a waitress?’

‘I’m a manager,’ she said in a hollow voice.

‘Of course,’ he said quickly, ‘
manager
.’

‘Don’t patronise me.’

‘I’m not!’

‘I’m either a manager or a waitress. You’re the boss, so you tell me.’

‘You are most definitely a manager. What I meant to say – and I don’t know why I’m suddenly sweating so much –’ he gave a quick laugh, ‘is that you could be a manager of somewhere massive. Or . . .’ he trailed off into an uneasy silence.

‘Are you asking me to leave?’

‘
No
!’

‘Are you telling me my job’s crap?’

He gave a big sigh. ‘I thought I was telling you I think you’re worth more than this job, but that does not make this job crap.’

‘Hmm,’ said Katie. ‘Have you met my mother?’

‘No,’ said Dan.

‘Shame. I think you’d really get on with her.’

He grimaced. ‘That was below the belt.’

‘I’m fine with this job,’ Katie told him. ‘I’m good at this job.’

‘I know –’

‘And I will stay doing this job until I decide to leave this job. Unless you don’t want me doing this job.’

Dan shook his head furiously. ‘God no, I’d be lost without you.’

There was an uneasy silence. ‘You know . . . In this capacity.’

‘I know perfectly well what you meant,’ Katie gave him a long, kind smile.

Dan looked at her seriously, then looked down at his feet. Katie felt suddenly deeply depressed. Oh God, what the hell was she playing at? When they started making friends, she pushed for more. When they rowed, she behaved like they were having a lover’s tiff. It was not a good working relationship. She would start to look for a new job. The thought made her feel instantly even more depressed. No, she’d stay. No need to over-react. They were a good team. This was a celebration. She felt better. Not as good as before, but not depressed.

Dan suddenly gulped down the last of his wine and
sighed
. ‘Excellent,’ he said. ‘Perfect. Right. That’s all good then. I’m so glad we had this little chat.’

‘Was there anything else?’

Dan shook his head.

‘Oh and by the way,’ she said, getting up. ‘I’m going to Sandy’s wedding with Hugh, so I won’t need a lift, thanks all the same.’

He looked up at her. ‘Oh,’ he said softly. ‘OK. That’s a shame. I mean,’ he looked down, ‘Geraldine was looking forward to it.’

Katie gave him a very sweet smile. ‘I bet she was,’ and turned and walked away.

Wednesday morning, the day of his date and first day of the rest of his life, found Matt staring in wretched disbelief at his reflection in the mirror. Here was proof that his worst fears were true. There was no longer any doubt: God – if there was one – really,
really
hated him. Maybe in another life Matt had killed His favourite pet or something. Eaten His favourite baby. Maybe, due to the Chaos theory, he had inadvertently started a natural disaster and thousands of innocent people had died senselessly. Whatever it was, Matt now knew with absolute certainty, as he stared in the mirror, that whatever he’d done was celestially unforgivable. He would not know redemption. For behold, there in front of him, clear as a pillar of salt, radiant as the sun, glossy as Pegasus’s mane, shone a spot on his nose the size of a frigate.

He closed his eyes (which hurt) and then slowly opened them again. Same face, same nose, same overnight
mountain
on it. It was practically waving at him. What the hell was he going to do?

There was no way round the problem. He would have to cancel his date with Jennifer. She was not a girl who should know such things in her life. She was a creature of love and beauty and light. Not of infected pus.

Yes, he would cancel, he told himself as he squinted painfully at the spot, revelling in its revoltingness. It had its own sick beauty; a Saturn-shaped ring of boiling scarlet throbbed round a rigid white planet and at the pinnacle perched a black hole the size of a pin-prick. Right on the top of his hooter, like a flag. He might as well wear a placard that read Danger, Testosterone.

He tried rearranging his nose, ignoring the pain and stretching his face out of all recognition. He knew from bitter experience that the nose was the worst place for this to happen. It was nothing less than a bull’s-eye from up above. He could almost hear the archangels chanting out ‘One hundred and
eight
-eey.’

He perched on the edge of his bed, trying to work out what to do, but instead merely sank into depression. Why the hell didn’t old people get spots, people who didn’t need to find lovers any more because they were too busy shopping for thermal underwear? Why give it to adolescent boys, the only members of the human race for whom spots could literally mean the end of all their hopes and dreams? Sometimes he had so many spots he wouldn’t have been surprised if his forehead spelt ‘virgin’ in braille.

Yes, he would cancel. It had all been too good to be true. Life stank and he would die a virgin. Thank you, God.

Then he realised that he didn’t have Jennifer’s phone number. He didn’t know where she lived. Or even what her surname was. He sat in an increasingly panicked daze hoping an answer would come to him soon.

Eventually, he realised there was only one possible solution. It was simple, effective and left him with some dignity. He would turn up at the Gnat and Parrot at the appointed time in a balaclava, tell Jennifer he had a summer cold and go back to his room, never to leave, dying a long and lonely death. But first, he had to sort out a convincing way to avoid her at the café. He’d ask Katie for help. She was always full of good ideas.

He leapt up off the bed and found the only scarf he had, a thick red number – perfect for the mid-summer heat. Deftly, he wrapped up half his face and then left for work.

Half an hour later, he passed the coffee queue and beckoned frantically to Katie.

‘Hi Matt,’ she said, hardly glancing at him. ‘Another spot?’

Matt furiously yanked down his scarf, careful to hide his nose with his hand.

‘I need to talk to you,’ he hissed.

He ran into the kitchen, followed by Katie while Sukie kept Patsy away from them with her arm.

Truth to tell, Katie wasn’t fully sympathetic to his situation until she realised its gravity, when she saw Matt’s nose. Her eyes widened. Nik took a look too. They both stared at him in awe.

‘I
think
,’ said Katie slowly, ‘don’t get too excited, but I
think
this one is even bigger than the Summer of 03.’

Matt leant heavily on the dishwasher. ‘Leave me alone,’ he snivelled. ‘Just leave me alone.’

Katie examined a picture on the fridge. ‘No, maybe not,’ she said.

Once Matt had explained that tonight was his first date with Divine Jennifer and his life was doomed to failure, he finally felt they understood his plight. Nik started laughing and Katie let out a long low whistle and shook her head sympathetically. ‘You are stuck, my friend,’ she whispered.

‘I know.’

‘I mean, if it was just another spot and she was just another girl, there might have been some hope.’

‘I know.’

‘But it’s an alien life form hatching its young on your face and she is the Goddess of Light.’

Matt frowned, which hurt his nose, so he stopped. ‘You’re not helping.’

‘Matt,’ Katie said quietly. ‘It’s just a spot. And she’s just a girl.’

‘Nobody understands,’ he groaned and opened the dishwasher.

Nik swung round suddenly. ‘Nutmeg or parsley?’ he asked Katie.

‘What’s this?’ she asked. ‘Naming the children?’

‘In the pasta?’

‘Nutmeg.’ She turned to Matt. ‘Would you like me to have a word with Jennifer? Ask her to postpone. Say you’re off sick?’

Matt stared at her. Would she? Could she? Was it that easy to save his life? He nodded frantically (which hurt) and
they
worked out his story. Thank goodness for that – now he wouldn’t have to buy a balaclava. The story was that he had caught the bug that Nik had had and was off today. Nik was only too delighted to provide Matt with every gory detail of his food poisoning, should he need to know.

At lunch-time Jennifer and Eva came in together as usual and Katie went to take their orders.

‘Lover boy not here then?’ Eva asked her.

‘No, he phoned in sick this morning.’

‘Oh,’ said Jennifer, more surprised than sorry. ‘OK.’

‘He asked me specially to say sorry to you. He won’t be able to make tonight. It’s some 24-hour bug thingie. Can he call you?’

Jennifer shrugged sweetly. ‘I’ll be in again tomorrow.’

‘Is he really bad?’ asked Eva.

‘Nah,’ said Katie. ‘Just some up-chucking and stomach pain.’

‘My kid brother had that last week,’ said Eva. ‘There’s something going round. Was he sick all night?’

‘Um, not sure really.’ Katie was surprised at how bad she felt lying. With any luck Matt would get the bug. She turned to Jennifer again. ‘Does he have your number, so he can call you.’

Another sweet shrug. ‘No need,’ she smiled. ‘I’ll be in again.’

Katie had just finished taking their order when Hugh almost ran up to the counter to check she was still going to the wedding with him. He’d found a great pub to stop at on the way there, and wanted to show her the write-up in his national pub food guide. Katie didn’t know why, but she wanted to get him far away from Dan, who had
obviously
heard this. She sat him down at one of the tables furthest from the counter, but was disconcerted to find Dan approaching, and unnerved not to know why.

‘Hello there,’ said Dan.

Hugh looked up at him, surprised.

‘Dan Crichton,’ Dan put his hand out and Hugh shook it. ‘We met briefly when –’

‘Yes. Hugh Penrose.’ They nodded at each other.

‘So,’ said Dan. ‘You off to the wedding too?’

‘Oh! Are you going?’

‘Course!’ said Dan. ‘My life wouldn’t be worth living if I wasn’t there. I’ve known Sandy for years. My girlfriend was her flatmate all the way through Oxford.’

Hugh suddenly clapped and laughed. ‘That’s where I know you from! You were at the party!’

‘Yep,’ said Dan swiftly. ‘So which way are you travelling up?’

Hugh was only too delighted to fill Dan in on his choice of A-roads and motorways while Katie tried to work out what Dan was playing at. She listened to their conversation as tense as a poised Slinky on a top step. Hugh suddenly stopped mid-sentence. ‘I’ve got an idea!’ he said. ‘Why don’t we all go up together?’

‘I’m sure Dan and Geraldine will be leaving later than us,’ said Katie, her Slinky collapsing at the bottom of the stairs. ‘I mean, we are making a day of it.’

‘Yeah, actually you’re right,’ nodded Dan. ‘Geraldine might need to work Saturday morning, so we were going to leave in the afternoon.’

‘Ah,’ said Hugh politely. ‘Yes, we were planning to go earlier in the day.’

Dan gave them both a one-move smile and nod.

It occurred to Katie that if Geraldine was working most of Saturday, Dan could have done his Saturday shift too and hadn’t really needed to sort out weekend cover quite as urgently as he had. Musing on this, she went to collect Jennifer and Eva’s food and let Matt know how well Jennifer had swallowed the lie. But when she walked into the kitchen, she spotted the problem immediately.

There stood Eva, smack bang in the middle of the floor, hands firmly on waist, staring questioningly at Matt. Matt was staring back at her in blank terror as if he’d been caught with his hand down his trousers. Which for all Katie knew, was exactly what had happened.

‘Hello,’ said Katie. ‘Anything wrong?’

Eva swung round. ‘Oh hello!’ she cried. ‘Here’s the liar.’

Katie was about to refute this, but then she realised this was a fairly accurate description.

‘It was only a white lie,’ she tried.

Eva pointed at Matt, still staring at Katie. ‘You call that up-chucking with stomach pain? What’s white about that lie?’

‘Have you seen his spot?’ asked Katie.

‘Katie!’ cried Matt.

‘I mean look at it!’ Eva looked. ‘It’s like he’s got two noses,’ helped Katie.

‘
Katie
!’ Matt screamed.

‘You are
so
lucky I’m not going to tell Jennifer,’ Eva told Matt.

‘Yes, please don’t do that,’ urged Katie. ‘There’s no need to hurt her.’

Eva let out a scornful laugh. ‘Excuse me,’ she said haughtily, before walking out of the kitchen.

Matt and Katie stared at each other.

‘Oh dear,’ said Katie. ‘It’s rather humbling to be scolded by someone wearing sparkly platform boots, isn’t it?’

‘“Two noses”?’ repeated Matt, his face distorted with anger (which hurt).

It wasn’t until later, when she was making her way up Asherman’s Hill with Sukie that Katie voiced her confusion over why Dan wasn’t working on the Saturday morning of the wedding and why he had introduced himself to Hugh. It wasn’t because he wanted Hugh to know he had got off with her at the party, because he’d changed the subject so sharply when Hugh realised where he recognised him from.