If all went according to plan, Phil and Janice’s cafe was due to open at the end of July. They had debated what they should call their premises. ‘Tea room’ sounded very staid and old-fashioned; ‘coffee shop’ was not strictly correct as they would be serving all sorts of beverages. ‘Cafe’ seemed to fit the bill, so long as people did not think it was a greasy spoon sort of place. They aimed to have a high standard both in cleanliness and in the food and drinks they served.
Eventually they decided they would call it simply Grundy’s, which was what they had thought of in the first place. They hoped that before long the name would become known in the area and that their reputation for good food in a comfortable environment would spread.
They knew, though, that they must start in a comparatively small way and not be too adventurous. They had to balance their budget and not borrow more than they felt they were able to pay back or spend too freely on items that were not necessary.
They were pleased with the way things were taking shape. They had wondered at first when the walls were knocked down and old fittings and fixtures removed if it would ever come right, but a couple of months’ work had completely transformed the place.
The kitchen area, where all the work and preparation would take place, was spacious and well equipped with up-to-date electric ovens and grills, a large stainless-steel sink, dishwasher, refrigerator and freezer, and working surfaces and cupboards in pale blue Formica.
The cafe area was roomy enough but not over-large. It would seat twenty in comfort, or so they estimated; five tables with four settings at each would leave room to dine with space to move around. But it was difficult to judge when the place was empty as it was at the beginning of July.
Janice had a fancy for circular tables but was persuaded that they might be impractical. Phil’s father recommended a warehouse that he knew near Leeds and they purchased six square tables and twenty-four light oak wheel-backed chairs, all in a simple and practical design and, most importantly, at a reasonable price – so much so they were able to get an extra table and chairs, just in case they might be needed.
They had debated, too, about the style, the decor and the general theme of the cafe. No red-checked tablecloths, Janice had stressed – too ordinary and reminiscent of a fish and chip shop – or pristine white cloths which would be difficult to keep spotless and were rather mundane, or lace-edged cloths which were too genteel and old-fashioned.
Phil decided that Janice should have the final say regarding the decor. He guessed it would be mainly local women who would frequent the place during the daytime, apart from tourists, of course, and elderly retired couples. There might be more men there at the weekends or in the evenings for the special pre-booked occasions but that was something to be considered in the future. They would start with morning coffee (or tea), light lunches, and afternoon teas, as they had originally planned.
The cafe area had been decorated in wallpaper of a neutral cream colour, slightly embossed, which would tone with any shade, and the paintwork was ivory. Janice had visited the local markets and in the large Halifax one she had purchased tie-on flat cushions for the chairs in a variety of floral designs. Then she had spotted some material which would be ideal for long curtains at the window; she had not really known what she wanted until she had seen it but now she could picture how it would appear – bright and cheerful, modern in design but with a touch of old-world charm. The background was bright yellow with a scattering of blue and white flowers in a heavy rayon which would hang well at each side of the window, reaching to the floor. The stallholder took the measurements and promised that the curtains, with golden ties and tassels, would be ready in a fortnight.
‘It’s about time you learnt to drive,’ Phil told her good-naturally. ‘Then you could do these expeditions on your own.’
‘All in good time,’ she promised him. She knew it might be a good idea. Her father was learning to drive and so was Val. Cissie was too, but as far as she was concerned it seemed to be causing endless arguments between her and Walter. She had not passed a test yet despite a couple of attempts.
The trip to Halifax had been fruitful as Janice had also bought tablecloths – a dozen of them so that there were always spare ones – in a delicate shade of lemon rayon. And so the colour scheme and theme of the cafe were taking shape. Flowery and summery, predominantly yellow and gold, giving a feeling of the countryside and sunny days.
There was crockery to be bought as well. Cups and saucers, large and small plates, fruit dishes, soup bowls, teapots, coffeepots, serving dishes… The list seemed endless. Not to mention cooking utensils: pots and pans, cake tins, mixing bowls – the thousand and one things it seemed one needed to stock the kitchen.
They could not afford expensive china – Shelley, Coleport or Crow Derby – nor would it be practical. But the market stalls sold lots of oddments of cups, saucers and small plates. Janice decided that as long as the cup matched the saucer it would not matter if a variety of colours and patterns were used.
As well as combing the markets in the area herself, Janice enlisted the help of Norma and Patience. It was surprising what bargains could be found: oddments of cups and saucers, plates and fruit dishes in many kinds of floral patterns. She decided that they should keep to the floral designs rather than abstract or stripes and spots as they would add an incongruous note. And she preferred china rather than the heavier pottery for the morning coffee and afternoon tea sessions.
Some of the items they managed to find were from well-known china firms: Shelley, Rockingham, Aynsley and Wedgwood. Others were unmarked or from the lesser-known factories but they were all in good condition with no chips or cracks, and they all blended well together.
Phil had stressed, however, that the plates and dishes on which they would serve the snacks and light lunches at midday must be of sturdy pottery rather than china and that they should all be of the same plain design. Phil’s father, once again, was able to help, recommending a retailer he had dealt with himself. They purchased large and medium-sized plates, soup bowls and dishes in cream-coloured pottery – perfectly plain but with an attractive sheen – at a reasonable price. The same firm met all their requirements for the kitchen, including labour-saving mixers and blenders and a coffee machine.
While the premises were being equipped and finishing touches added to the decor, Phil and Janice had been engaging their staff. Adverts in the local papers had brought a fair number of applicants whom they interviewed at the new place of work. The exterior had been painted in a leaf-green colour and a sign over the door simply stated Grundy’s.
Janice was to be in charge of the morning and afternoon sessions, when the menu would consist mainly of cakes and pastries in the morning, and the addition of dainty sandwiches, toasted teacakes and crumpets in the afternoon. Phil would be responsible for the light lunches: homemade soup of the day, more substantial sandwiches with a side salad, various items on toast including scrambled and poached eggs, baked beans and creamed mushrooms, Welsh rarebit and omelettes with a choice of fillings.
Janice required someone who was competent at baking and cake-making, and Phil an assistant chef for the savoury dishes. The number of waitresses needed might vary from day to day, so they decided to start with just two, as they had to balance their wages budget, and see how things progressed. They engaged two cheerful and friendly-seeming women in their mid-thirties who would alternate with morning and afternoon shifts. Then there would be Ian helping out for a few weeks in August, and an advert for students who were looking for a holiday job brought a flurry of applicants.
Janice, who had left school herself only a few years ago, employed four girls – sixteen-year-olds from a local school who had finished their O-level exams and were waiting to go into the sixth form. They would share the work on a part-time basis and were willing to fit in and do odd jobs as well as waiting on the tables.
By the end of July it had all come together, as they had hoped, and they were ready to open. They had planned a small party for family members and friends on the last Saturday afternoon in July, then the cafe would open for business the following Monday morning at ten o’clock. This was the week before bank holiday Monday. They would, of course, open on all the bank holidays, as those would be the times when folk were out and about, making the most of their leisure time.
They would not open on Sundays. The day was still regarded, by and large, as a day to be set apart, whether from a religious conviction or the feeling that one day in the week should be a day of rest. There were exceptions, of course. Hotels and boarding houses could not take the day off, as Janice well remembered. This also applied to the Coach and Horses; Phil’s father found that Sunday was one of their busiest days.
All the other shops in their row were closed on Sunday, and for a half day on Wednesday, which was the norm for most of the shops in the town. The exception was the newsagents, which opened on Sunday mornings to sell newspapers and anything else customers required but closed at midday. Janice and Phil knew they would be thankful for their day of rest.
A comparative rest, at least, as preparations would need to be made for the week ahead. It would be an early start for both of them each morning. They planned to rise at six o’clock to start baking the cakes and pastries that must be freshly made each day. Janice’s assistant, a married woman in her forties who was experienced in that line of work, would join her at eight, and Phil’s assistant, a young man of similar age to himself, would do so later in the morning.
One thing they had decided not to do was to bake their own bread; this would take too much time and effort. They made arrangements with a local bakery to deliver, each day, the required number of loaves, teacakes, crumpets and crusty rolls to be served with the soup.
They would deal with the financial side themselves with the help of an accountant from time to time. There was a small cash desk in a corner where Janice would write the bills and deal with the payments with the help of the waitresses. Janice hoped that all the baking would have been finished by the time the cafe opened so that she could deal with other matters. She guessed there would be very little time to themselves until they closed at five thirty.
It was agreed that tips should be the prerogative of the waitress – or waiter when Ian joined them – who had served the customer, not put into a general pool to be shared, as was the case in some places. Janice hoped that this would encourage service with a smile and a desire to please.
A smallish group of less than twenty gathered at Grundy’s on the Saturday afternoon for the opening party. Ralph and Patience had driven over from Ilkley, leaving the inn in the competent hands of their staff. Alec, Norma and Ian drove from Blackpool while Sam and Val, Cissie and Walter did so from Halifax. The rest were friends of Phil and Janice and neighbours whom they had met recently – the newsagent and his wife, and the lady, a middle-aged widow, who owned the florist’s shop next door.
She brought a bouquet of sweet peas and roses still in bud, which delighted Janice. She put them in a cut-glass vase on the cash desk at first, then she would keep them in a cool place so that they would be fresh for the opening on Monday. The others had brought gifts of chocolates and wine; they had also received several cards with good wishes for their new venture.
As it was a private party in what was their own home, they started the occasion with a glass of sherry. They would not be permitted to serve alcohol on the premises but Phil intended to ask for a licence when they started catering for evening parties – something to think about in the future.
‘This calls for a toast,’ said Ralph, rising to his feet and raising his glass. ‘I’m sure we would all like to wish Phil and Janice every success with Grundy’s – what could be a better name than that! – and every happiness as they continue their married life together. We’ve already said that at their wedding and that was only three months ago. But what a lot they have achieved in that short time, and I’m sure they’ll go on from strength to strength. So will you all please raise your glasses to… Phil and Janice.’
‘To Phil and Janice,’ they all echoed, standing as one. Then there was a round of applause and a few cheers from the younger folk. Janice felt tears in her eyes as Phil stood to reply.
‘Thank you for that, Dad,’ he said, ‘and thank you all for coming. It means a great deal to Janice and me to have you here today. But I’m not going to say any more as there’s work to be done. Janice and I have the pleasure of waiting on you today.’
The guests dined on sandwiches of fresh salmon, roast ham, chicken and egg and cress, cut into dainty fingers, and small homemade sausage rolls. These were followed by a selection of the cakes that Janice intended to serve to the clients. There was Yorkshire tea bread, rich with fruit and delicious spread with butter, and three large cakes cut into slices: cherry and almond, coffee cake with buttercream icing and walnuts, and a lemon drizzle cake.
It was Janice’s idea to have three such cakes, of different varieties, each day, to be cut as required, and small ‘fancies’ as well. For today’s guests she had made tiny meringues with fresh cream, strawberry tartlets and small chocolate eclairs – an experiment as she was trying to perfect the art of making choux pastry. Fortunately they had turned out well so she was encouraged to make them again.
The tea, served in stainless-steel pots to keep it hot, was Yorkshire tea, the blend preferred by most true Yorkshire folk. Janice decided they could not go wrong with that, although she knew the posher varieties, such as Earl Grey, might be served in other places in town.
They were using the china oddments of cups, saucers and plates they had acquired from market stalls, second-hand stores and antique shops. There was a wide variety of floral designs: red roses, bluebells, primroses, bold daffodils and tulips, dainty forget-me-nots and fuchsias. They added a pleasing splash of colour to the summery theme of the cafe.
‘You’ve created a lovely setting,’ Norma said to Janice. ‘There’s such a nice, happy feeling to the place and I love the pictures on the walls. They’re the perfect finishing touch.’
Janice laughed. ‘Thank you – yes, I’m rather pleased with them myself. We couldn’t afford expensive pictures – even prints are quite pricey. These are from old calendars. Phil’s mum had one from last year with all different views of places in the British Isles, and I bought one of Yorkshire views from a second-hand shop. The frames are the cheapest we could find.’
‘Well, they’re really effective,’ said Norma. ‘They make you think of summer holidays.’
Janice had chosen the spring, summer and autumn views from the calendars, avoiding the snowy winter scenes. There was one of the North Yorkshire moors, purple with heather; the harbour at Whitby and the quaint fishing village of Robin Hood’s Bay. And from other counties, a Cotswold village with trees in their autumn glory; a pretty thatched cottage surrounded by flowers; trees heavy with apple blossom in Kent; the grandeur of the mountains depicted in Scotland’s Great Glen and Snowdonia in Wales.
‘Talking of summer holidays,’ Norma continued, ‘your dad and I are off again for a short break in August. We thought we’d have a few days away while Ian is staying with you. He’s not old enough yet to be left on his own so we thought it was a good opportunity.’
‘That’s a good idea,’ agreed Janice. ‘Where are you going?’
‘Not very far, actually, your neck of the woods. We thought we’d visit the Yorkshire Dales, maybe travel up as far as Richmond. We’ve not booked anywhere. We’ll just trust to luck with bed-and-breakfast places. And it will be a good chance for your dad to practise his driving!’
Janice smiled. ‘How’s he getting on?’
‘Oh, he’s getting the hang of it pretty well. He’s having a few lessons with a driving school as well as going out with me. It’s not ideal for a wife to try to teach her husband! Although we’ve not come to blows… I’m only joking! Your dad’s very even-tempered.’
‘Phil’s trying to persuade me to learn,’ said Janice. ‘I really think I must but there doesn’t seem to be much spare time at the moment… By the way, how are you getting along with Ian? I do understand.’
Norma nodded. ‘Not too badly; it’s improving. He’s not quite so wary of me now. I try not to monopolise Alec and to include Ian in what we do. But he spends quite a lot of time on his own up in his room. He’s got his mates he plays football with, and chess – that’s something he enjoys. I know he’s looking forward to coming to stay with you.’
‘Yes, we’re looking forward to having him for a few weeks. I’m so pleased you’re here today, Norma,’ Janice said as she saw Val and Cissie coming towards her.
‘Well done, you!’ said Val, flinging her arms round Janice. ‘This place looks wonderful, doesn’t it, Cissie? I feel sure you’re going to do ever so well.’
‘Yes, we’re real impressed,’ said Cissie, giving Janice a hug. ‘We’ve had a real good nosh-up.’ She patted her stomach. ‘I feel ready to burst.’
Janice reintroduced them to Norma, whom they had met only briefly at her and Phil’s wedding. Then Norma moved away to join her husband.
‘Yes, it’s all splendid,’ said Val. ‘We’ll tell all our friends about you. Have you some special VIPs coming on Monday for the opening?’
‘No, nothing like that. We’ve just advertised in the local press and we hope the word has got round. We’ll just wait and see what happens. I expect folk will come for a nosey, and if they like it maybe they’ll come again. Anyway, I’m pleased you’ve come, all four of you. You came in Sam’s car?’
‘Yes,’ replied Val. ‘There was no point in using both.’
‘We’ve left the kids at home with Walter’s mam,’ added Cissie. ‘We’re both learning to drive, you know, Val and me, aren’t we, Val?’
Val smiled. ‘Trying to. I’ve not had many lessons yet, but Cissie—’
‘I’ve been learning for ages,’ Cissie broke in again. ‘I’ve failed me test twice but I’ll pass next time, you’ll see! I stopped going out with Walter – he’s too bloomin’ critical. My instructor’s a lot more patient with me.’
‘Well, better luck next time then,’ said Janice. ‘I intend to learn eventually but we’re too busy at the moment.’
The conversation went on to the forthcoming holiday in August when Walker’s mill closed down for a week.
‘We’ll be having a few days in Scotland again,’ said Val. ‘We had a lovely holiday there before we got married. We’ll go further north this time, up as far as Inverness.’
‘And are you and Walter going away?’ Janice asked Cissie.
‘No… well, maybe for a day or two when Walter gets back. He’s going on a cycling trip with some mates from the club. He asked if it was OK with me so I said yes, it was all right. It’s more trouble than it’s worth taking the kids away. Holly’s only seven months old and we need to take so much stuff with us. Next year we might manage a holiday. I don’t mind, though. I’m quite happy being at home with ’em.’
Janice was surprised at how complacent Cissie had become. She obviously thought the world of her two children; it seemed that her life revolved around them, but was it to the exclusion of Walter? Janice wondered. Cissie was still as lively as ever but did not seem to have the pride in her appearance that she had once shown. She appeared dishevelled, in a floral dress that was slightly crumpled, and her blonde hair was more than ever like a bird’s nest. She wore her usual make-up, though: bright pink lipstick and pink nail varnish on her fingers and her toes, which peeped through her open-toe sandals. It must be difficult to be always well groomed, Janice supposed, with two young children to care for.
By six o’clock most of the guests had departed with promises that they would spread the word about Grundy’s, and that they would certainly come again themselves.
Alec, Norma and Ian were among the last to leave.
‘Can I stay now?’ Ian asked Janice in a quiet voice while his dad and Norma were talking to Phil. ‘We’ve done all our exams at school.’
‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ she replied. ‘You haven’t got your stuff with you and Phil and I need a bit of time to get started and see how it’s all going. There are sure to be a few problems at first. Let’s get the bank holiday weekend over, then you can come the second week in August and stay till the end of the month. How’s that?’
‘Yeah… that sounds great,’ he admitted.
It was decided that he should travel by train and get off at Leeds, where Phil would meet him, so that he would not need to change trains. He looked much happier when they said goodbye and waved cheerily as the car pulled away.