W HEN I GOT outside, daylight was slipping away and it was almost dark. The rain-wet wind was blowing hard. The streetcars were packed as they trundled by, light spilling from the inside, passengers silhouetted. I had declined the offer of Wilson’s services, saying that I had some work to complete. Truth was, I wanted to get over to the Paradise and I didn’t want to reveal my connection to the place. Not necessary at this point.
I walked fast. Not just because of the weather. I hoped to see Hilliard before the first sitting took up his attention.
The café was not due to open for another half an hour, but as usual there was a line already forming outside. The usual group of men huddled into their shabby overcoats, a handful of quiet women with umbrellas, even two young children pressed for meagre shelter against their mother.
As a regular, I now had key privileges; I walked to the side door and let myself in.
I was just about to enter the kitchen when I heard a loud thump and an exclamation of “Oh, no” expressed with definite alarm. I pushed open the door and went in. At this point, I started to feel as if I were some dreadful harbinger of destruction. First the factory, now this. The thump was the result of a large pan of oven-hot rice pudding falling on the floor. The “Oh, no” had come from Pearl who was standing near the oven, her hands clutched to her mouth. A choked-back moan of pain was coming from Calvin. Unlike young Ben, he was not screaming, but it was obvious he was hurting just as much. He was hopping around trying to hold back his yelps and shaking his hands as if he could cast off the pain of the burns.
Before I could even ask what had happened, Pearl saw me. Her face was ashen.
“I was only trying to help.”
“With what?”
“He was slow. We’ve got a queue already. I went to take the pan out of the oven and it slipped. He tried to catch it and the rice spilled on him.”
Calvin had hopped over to the sink. He managed to turn on the tap and run the water over his hands.
I hurried over to him.
The skin was bright red and already starting to blister.
“You’ve got to have that looked at.”
“I’ll be all right,” he said over his shoulder. “I learned this from the trawler. You’ve got to cool down a burn right away.”
Pearl, still shaken, crept closer.
“Where are the others?” I asked her.
“Wilf’s downstairs. Hilliard’s left already for Sudbury.”
I knew that meant a new dealing with trouble and strife.
“Go and fetch Wilf.”
She scuttled off fast.
“What’s ready?” I asked Calvin.
“Everything, thank goodness. We were just about to serve it up.”
He was looking woozy although the water trick seemed to be helping with the pain.
“Do you want to sit down?”
“A few more minutes.”
Pearl had moved fast, and Wilf came rushing through the door.
“What the hell happened?”
Calvin grimaced. “A little accident. A pan of rice pudding landed on my hands. Bit of a waste I’m sad to say.”
Wilf peered over Cal’s shoulder. “My god. You’d better go and get that looked at.”
“I already explained to Miss Frayne that I’ll be all right. All I need now is the honey pot. It’s over there on the shelf. Would you mind getting it for me?”
Wilf obeyed at once. Pearl started to clean up the rice pudding. I took Calvin by the elbow.
“Come and sit down.”
He did, holding his burned hands in the air. Wilf brought over the pot of honey.
“Miss Frayne, if you’d be so kind,” said Calvin. “Just take that spoon and daub as much honey as you can over my hands.”
“Another tip from the ship?”
“Exactly.”
I started to plaster on the honey as gently as I could. He didn’t flinch but remained with his hands on the table.
“What shall we do about the sitting?” Pearl asked.
Wilf dithered for a moment.
“Everything’s ready,” said Calvin. “Soup just needs to be doled out into the bowls. We’re having cold mutton pie and a salad choice. All ready. The pie has to be sliced and put on a plate. They get two pickles each. The rice pudding has had it but there are chocolate cookies in the jar. I made them for tomorrow, but we’ll use them now for dessert.”
I jumped in. “I can cut up the pie.”
Wilf gave me a rare, grateful smile.
“Okay. If you and Pearl handle all that, I’ll go and let in the hordes.” He put his hand on Calvin’s shoulder. “You’ll be all right, chum?”
“Yep. It’s not the first scalding I’ve ever had.”
“Do you want a tot?”
Cal grinned at him. “Won’t say no.”
Wilf hurried over the corner cupboard and returned with a bottle. I could see it was rum. He splashed a measure into a glass and handed it to Calvin who tried to take hold of it, but couldn’t. Wilf held it to his mouth.
“Here. Big gulp’s better.”
Calvin did as he was told while Wilf watched him. He had an expression of tenderness on his face that, like his gratitude toward me, seemed rare.
We heard a loud knocking from outside the other door. The customers were getting restless.
Wilf stood up. “I’ll go keep them under control. Do you want another tot?”
Calvin shook his head. “Not just now. That put a fire in my belly to match my hands.”
“Pearl? Charlotte? Five minutes?”
We both nodded agreement and he left. Calvin put his hand on the table and closed his eyes. His honey-sweet hands remained thrust in front of him.