‘Not so far,’ Dana said cautiously, but she had noticed that as the weather grew more clement sales of hot dinners declined. Now that Caitlin had become a full-time waitress after one of the girls left – as Mr Lionel had said, she just about doubled her salary with tips – Dana waited on occasionally, and could not help noticing that men who, in the winter and spring, had ordered either the day’s Special or some other hot meal quite often decided on sandwiches or filled rolls now, though salads were still mainly ordered by their female customers.
She said as much to James, adding that she and Caitlin were taking the next Sunday off in order to follow the advice they had been given by the owner of the tobacconist’s next door. ‘Look for a gap in the market, gairls,’ Mrs Ramsbottom had said. ‘See what shops there ain’t on Heyworth, then look into fillin’ the gap. Tek a walk on a weekend wi’ a notebook, writin’ down what each one sells, and you’ll be surprised why no one’s ever thought of sellin’ … oh, wharrever ain’t there, if you get me drift.’
The girls had talked it over and decided that the older woman was right; so this very weekend they would walk the length of Heyworth and maybe several side streets and see what wasn’t already there. Bakers and
confectioners abounded, as did greengrocers and the ubiquitous corner shops, but Dana could not remember seeing a wool shop and Caitlin still thought a nice tea room would do well.
‘We’ve learned an awful lot about catering by working at the Willows,’ she urged. ‘Oh, I’m not saying we should do full meals and that, but we could manage tea, coffee and snacks without any retraining.’
Dana however was doubtful. ‘What do we do with food we can’t sell? I mean we’d have to buy in biscuits and scones and teacakes and stuff, and we’d have to get a stove to toast things and probably a big urn to heat water for the drinks,’ she pointed out. ‘I agree we wouldn’t need a counter, which would give us a bit more room, but I don’t think we could get more than four tables in the place without it looking crowded and uncomfortable, and that would never do. Now wool and embroidery silks and stuff like that doesn’t go bad if it isn’t sold immediately. Still, we’ve not taken Mrs Ramsbottom’s advice yet; I think “wait and see” should be our motto. We’ve got another month to go before we have to start paying rent.’
Caitlin sniffed. ‘I think James was being very unfair when he said we couldn’t move into the flat until we’ve decided what sort of business we mean to run, or whether we’re going to rent the shop out,’ she said resentfully. ‘We could have saved quite a lot of money if we weren’t at the YW …’
Dana chuckled. ‘He’s shrewd as they come, your friend James,’ she said. ‘If he hadn’t insisted that we have to make up our minds about the shop before moving into the flat, we’d still be dithering.’
Caitlin pulled a face, then giggled. ‘We
are
still dithering,’ she pointed out. ‘Tell you what, Dana, let’s say we walk up and down Heyworth first thing Sunday morning, and make up our minds for definite by noon. Then when James arrives to take us out for a bite to eat we’ll tell him what we’ve decided, give in our notice at the YW and move into the flat straight away.’
Rather to James’s amusement, the girls’ tour of the neighbourhood had revealed neither café nor wool shop in Heyworth Street or its surroundings, but when they had contacted suppliers both girls had realised at once that setting up as purveyors of haberdashery was out of the question. Even stocking a small shop with such items as wool, silks and cottons, let alone fancy collars, strips of broderie anglaise and knitting needles in every possible size, would be beyond them; even if they could have managed the outlay, unless they began to sell immediately, and in large quantities, they would rapidly come to grief.
A nice little tea room, on the other hand, was a distinct possibility. True, the shop was on the small side, but if they did away with the counter and kept all the supplies in the storeroom, James thought that they should be able to lay sixteen covers and this made economic sense. Dana worried about the scones and little cakes not selling, but the mark-up was sufficient to allow for a certain amount of ‘dead stock’, and anyway, the girls could always reduce their prices at the end of each day just to cover what each item had cost them. Yes, his Caitlin was right: a teashop was almost certainly their best bet. Thinking it over afterwards, Dana began to suspect that James had
always meant them to go into catering. Everything else he had suggested had been fraught with difficulties, so in the end they had settled for a tea room, thinking it was their own choice, whereas in fact it was what James Mortimer had intended all along.
So James set off to bargain with local bakers and confectioners, assuring them that a steady sale, at a reasonable price, to the new tea room – they planned to call it Cathy’s Place – was better than having to dispose of unwanted goods at the end of their trading day.
Now it was decided at last, the girls began to plan simple menus and bought a second-hand electric cooker which would stand in the storeroom – which would now become the tea room’s kitchen – so that they might toast bread and teacakes, and warm through such items as scones and sausage rolls. Caitlin had told James that they had looked wistfully at a magnificent urn, but for the time being they had simply purchased a very large kettle with which to make cups of tea, coffee and cocoa, as required.
James had bowed to the girls’ superior knowledge regarding the decoration of the tea room, though he had pulled a doubtful face over the plain deal tables with their square tops. But in this instance at least, Dana had proved right. The room, shorn of its counter, was square – fourteen feet by fourteen feet – and though round tables might have been prettier, they would have wasted space. Also, square tablecloths were considerably cheaper than round ones, and in the event of a party of ladies numbering more than four wanting to sit together, square tables could be pushed end to end to accommodate them.
The night before the café was due to open, James took
both girls to the Adelphi for dinner, telling them jubilantly that they would rapidly become the proprietors of their own successful business. ‘I want to be able to pay Uncle Seamus back,’ Caitlin said, dimpling at James. ‘Not that he expects it, and he’ll probably insist that the money he gave me was a present, but it would be nice to offer, don’t you think?’
James did not agree; to his way of thinking, an investment was just that, and though this Uncle Seamus might be entitled to a share in the profits when the tea room was thriving – even beginning to expand – he thought it would be downright foolish to pay back money whilst they might still be having to work very hard just to take a small wage from the profits.
The girls were understandably nervous at first, picking at their food, but he jollied them along with stories of successes achieved by people no older or more experienced than themselves, and when he finally deposited them outside Cathy’s Place he knew that their nervous fears had been calmed, for the moment at any rate.
Next morning, James was tempted to go straight round to the tea room, but decided this would be unfair. The girls would be busy, taking delivery of stock, chalking an A board which they would stand outside on the pavement, and deciding which items would draw in most customers. Instead, he sat at the table in his boarding house eating toast and drinking strong tea, and when his landlady came into the room and handed him his post he was glad he had not abandoned his breakfast, for the very first letter on the pile was from his old friend and one-time partner, Jack Ewing. Good old Jack. The two men had never lost touch and still wrote regularly,
though they were now miles apart. Smiling in pleasant anticipation, James slit open the long blue envelope.
Polly had been sad when Dana and Caitlin had left the Willows, but she had continued her admiring surveillance, occasionally forgoing her evening meal at the girls’ home and getting off the tram halfway up Heyworth Street to check on progress in the butcher’s shop. Though now it was no longer a butcher’s shop, but a tea room with a neat green fascia board upon which was written, in curly script,
Cathy’s Place
.
Polly had longed to offer help with the cleaning and redecorating, but she was frightened of the man who seemed to be in charge. The girls called him James and they did not seem to be in awe of him. Polly herself was scared stiff of Mr Lionel and made more mistakes when his eye was upon her than at any other time, so she thought it was a good thing that Dana and Caitlin seemed to be at ease in the presence of this James.
And today they were to open for the first time and Polly was determined to be there; to be their first customer if she could manage it. She and Ernie travelled to work on the same tram, so she waited at the stop and grabbed Ernie’s arm as soon as he appeared. ‘Ern! Can you tell the Hag that I been took bad wi’ a sore stomach? Say I were sick all night and don’t want no one else to gerrit. Say—’
‘What’s all this about?’ Ernie said suspiciously. ‘There ain’t nothin’ wrong wi’ you, queen. You look as fit as a perishin’ flea.’
‘Well, I am,’ Polly acknowledged. ‘But I’ve got business to look to. Oh, Ern, be a sport an’ tell her I’m feelin’
mortal bad but I’ll be in as soon as I feels more like meself. Are you on? Only I dare not risk losin’ me job, and you know what Mr Lionel is when the Hag complains about one o’ us.’
‘Awright, I’ll do it if you’ll just leggo me arm so’s I can get on this bleedin’ tram,’ Ernie said pugnaciously as one rumbled to a halt beside them. ‘Only you’re to tell me wharrit’s all about when you do come in, agreed?’
‘Agreed,’ Polly said thankfully. ‘You’re a pal, Ernie Frost.’
She stood back to let the queue of people climb aboard the tram, then waved to Ernie until the vehicle was out of sight. Only then did she turn round and head for Cathy’s Place. When she reached it, there was considerable bustle going on. The door was open and tradesmen were going in bearing full trays of various bakery goods. Polly knew the man from Sample’s and gave him a tight little grin when he smiled at her. Sample’s made the best iced buns in Liverpool and whenever she had a penny to spare Polly bought herself one. So now she felt justified in saying cheerfully: ‘Mornin’, Mr Reggie! What time’s this place opening for business then?’
Reggie jerked his thumb at the A board. ‘Ten a.m. to six p.m., it says there,’ he informed her. ‘Mind, as it’s their first day, they might open early, see what sort of trade they have. Why not nip in and ask if they’ll do you a cup of tea and a round of toast? Or they might be doing a Special, seeing as it’s their first day.’
‘I might; only I got shopping to do,’ Polly said untruthfully. She wondered what tea and toast would cost and stuck her hand into the pocket of her jacket, checking the pennies; there were four of them, but for the time
being at least she would simply look. She had seen someone at the back of the tea room and when she had come forward a ray of sunlight had lit up her bright hair: Dana!
But the stream of suppliers had now dwindled and she could see through the window that the girls were setting out their wares. Dana was laying tablecloths and putting a tiny bunch of flowers in a little blue vase upon each, whilst Caitlin piled scones into one pyramid and teacakes in another, then placed both beneath glass bells on the shelf which ran along the back wall. They had had the doorway between kitchen and tea room enlarged, and through the double doors, which had been pinned back whilst they took in the deliveries, Polly could see a Maid Saver upon which were stacked plates, cups and saucers and little bowls which, Polly supposed, would presently be filled with sugar, jam, butter, or anything else the customers might require. For a moment she hesitated, longing to go in but fearing to find herself very much in the way.
She was turning back towards the tram stop when Dana came out, apparently to resite the A board, and spotted her. ‘Morning, Polly; how nice to see a familiar face,’ she said cheerfully. ‘What do you think? It’s our first day, but of course Monday is when most folk do their washing so we don’t expect to get crowded. I’d offer you a cuppa but the kettle hasn’t boiled yet … in fact, I don’t think we’ve even put it on the stove.’
Polly was about to say that she had shopping to do but would call in on her way back when Dana’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘Gracious, did you hear that? It’s the church clock striking nine. Oh, Polly, you’re going to be
in awful trouble! Get yourself on to the next tram, girl; no one knows better than me what Mrs Haggerty can be like when she’s cross!’
Polly took her courage in both hands. ‘I’ve took a day off because I’m thinkin’ of changin’ me job,’ she said, and felt heat invade her cheeks as she spoke. ‘I – I suppose you and C-Caitlin aren’t needin’ a waitress? Someone small what could nip atwixt the tables without so much as brushin’ agin ’em? I know I haven’t done much waitressin’, but I’d learn quick, and as to kitchen work, I knows that like the back of me hand. I’m rare good at peelin’ veggies, gratin’ carrots, makin’ soup—’
Dana interrupted at once, though she smiled very kindly. ‘Oh, Poll, I wish we could employ someone; it’s going to be really tough with only the two of us. But we’ve spent all the money Mr Mortimer paid us for cleaning up his property and we’ve only just managed to scrape up enough to pay the bakers and the greengrocers and so on. To be truthful …’ she lowered her voice so that Polly had to get closer to hear what she was saying, ‘if we don’t make money in our very first week, we shan’t be able to pay ourselves anything and we’ll be hard put to it to meet our bills. Oh, Poll, I
am
sorry.’
Polly conjured up a grin. ‘It don’t matter. No harm in askin’, is there?’ she said, speaking as chirpily as she could. ‘I’m on me way to Everton Library to borry a book. If you ain’t rushed off your feet when I come back, I’ll pop in for that cuppa.’
Dana returned to the tea room and immediately forgot all about Polly, though she had spoken the truth when she had said they could do with another pair of hands.
As it was, the girls had agreed that for the time being at least they would be kitchen workers, waitresses, cooks and the takers of money; in fact, each would do whatever was needed at the time.