8

Rose looked around her; she always enjoyed this time, when staff were occupied in the kitchen preparing for a busy day ahead while the Nippies checked each table was correctly laid ready for when diners started to arrive. At the counter, Anya and the other Sallys were laying out the first delivery of fresh bread, pies and cakes sent from the London bakery department. Rose was proud to work for Joe Lyons’ company, who by hook or by crook managed to stock the many teashops and Corner Houses around the country, despite rationing and shortages. True, the menu wasn’t as extensive as it had been before the war started, but all the same the staff at Lyons did their utmost to ensure the show went on as before.

A thought crossed Rose’s mind and she hurried outside to check the windows, making a mental note to book the window cleaner for a visit. Really, what they needed was to have him commit to a regular schedule of cleaning, as she’d hate someone from head office to drop in and find the teashop not looking its best.

‘Why don’t you ask Flora if she knows someone who could clean the windows? The company sign could do with a polish as well,’ Lily said, coming up behind Rose. Gazing up at the ‘J. Lyons and Co. Ltd’ sign, with its gold lettering on a cream background, she tutted. ‘It’s all that dust and muck from the air raids, along with the sea spray . . .’

‘At least the building is still standing. I fear one day the bus will turn the corner and all that will be here is a pile of rubble.’ Rose shuddered.

‘Or worse still, it could happen while we’re inside the building along with the customers,’ Lily said. ‘I’d best get inside and put my uniform on before the manageress catches me. I’ve heard she can be a tyrant.’

Rose shook her head and smiled as she watched her friend enter the teashop. She was used to Lily pulling her leg since she’d been promoted to manageress, but overall, her friend didn’t abuse her position and was a hard worker. Making another note to place a telephone call to her mum and ask if she knew a window cleaner who hadn’t yet been called up to serve, she went inside. In ten minutes the teashop would be open and she’d yet to inspect the Nippies in their uniforms; regardless of there being a war on, standards shouldn’t drop.

‘She’s coming,’ one of the younger Nippies whispered as Rose entered the staffroom to see them all shuffling into a line, ready for her instructions.

‘Good morning,’ she smiled, putting them at their ease. ‘I’m pleased to say we have a full complement of staff with no one off sick, so you can all continue with your usual duties today. Anya, was the order correct?’

‘Everything was delivered as requested,’ Anya replied, handing over a stock sheet. ‘I have ticked everything off.’

‘In that case, you can return to your counter,’ Rose replied, giving a nod to Anya and the other part-time Sallys. She had no need to check them, as Anya was very strict with her fellow counter staff; they never had a hair out of place and always looked smart in their dark blue dresses.

Rose next walked along the line of Nippies, who showed her their nails and turned around so she could check their black lisle stockings were free of holes and runs. ‘Very good, ladies. I don’t need to remind you there is a nail brush over by the sink, and in the drawer of the table there is black darning thread for your stockings as well as red thread to secure any pearly buttons that have worked loose on your uniforms. We have a plentiful supply of aprons in case any should be dirtied during a shift. Lastly, keep your hair clean and brushed and your shoes polished. I’m proud of you all and want us to have the best Lyons teashop in Thanet. Now, let’s have a pleasant day and keep smiling, as no one wants to be faced with a grumpy Nippy when they come here to enjoy a meal.’

Lily joined Rose as the other Nippies headed out to their workstations. ‘You’d best not let Katie hear you say we are the best teashop in Thanet,’ she grinned.

‘A bit of competition will keep us on our toes,’ Rose chuckled. ‘Oh, blast, I meant to ask one of the girls to tidy up the cellar in case we have another air raid. Would you . . .?’

‘Of course I will, but do ask someone to keep an eye on my tables in case customers are sitting there waiting to be served.’

‘Take a tray with you, as there’s bound to be cutlery and God knows what else left down there.’

Rose cast an eagle eye around the teashop as she made her way across the floor to her small office. Hopefully, if the weather picked up, they would be able to open the upstairs veranda that looked out over the sands, even if it was to view barbed wire and signs telling people to stay off the beach due to mines. She smiled as she thought of how Lily was adamant it was safe, and the army were bluffing; she wasn’t going to be the one to test her friend’s theory.

She had just sat down at her desk when one of the Nippies brought in a tea tray and the post. ‘Thank you, Anna,’ she smiled, reaching for the engraved letter opener Ben had given her. She ran her fingers over the wording that she never showed her staff. To my Rose: I hope I never become a thorn in your side. ‘Oh, Ben, I long to see you – it’s been far too long,’ she sighed as she started to open the envelopes, beginning with the one from head office. She gasped as she read the letter inside informing her that Mrs Anya Polinski was to be sent to London for an indefinite period of time, to help train a new intake of Sallys.

‘Oh gosh, why is this happening?’ Rose said out loud. ‘I’m already short on Nippies and now I have one less Sally; whatever am I going to do?’ She sat with her elbows on her desk, holding her fingers to her temples, closing her eyes as she tried to think through the problem. This news had come right out of the blue – and why Anya? Opening her eyes and flexing her shoulders, she raised a hand to get the attention of a Nippy who was passing the window of her office.

‘Yes, Mrs Hargreaves, did you want something?’

‘Thank you, Fran, please ask Anya to come to my office once the queue for bread has shortened.’

‘Of course, and would you like a fresh cup of tea?’ the young woman asked, nodding towards the untouched tea on Rose’s desk. ‘It must have gone cold by now.’

‘Please, but only when you have time; don’t go out of your way just for me,’ Rose smiled.

‘I’ll bring some biscuits as well,’ the girl replied before scurrying away, which made Rose think how ‘Nippy’ was the perfect name for her waitresses.

Rose was sipping her fresh cup of tea and reading the letter from head office for the umpteenth time when Anya tapped on the door and walked in without waiting to be asked. ‘You wished to see me?’ she asked, looking worried as she spotted the letter in Rose’s hand emblazoned with the Lyons heading.

‘Take a seat,’ Rose said, giving her a warm smile. ‘I’ve received a letter from head office; they would like you to go to London to help train a new intake of Sallys. It seems to be happening in rather a hurry, as they would like you to start after Easter Monday and that is not long away. How do you feel about this? If you aren’t keen, I can write and refuse the position on your behalf.’

Anya was quick to answer. ‘I would enjoy the opportunity, thank you. Will you tell them I agree?’

Rose’s eyes shot open in amazement; she had never seen Anya answer a question so quickly without chewing it over and asking lots of inconsequential questions. ‘You do understand this will mean living in London for a few weeks, and you can’t take Alexsy with you?’

‘I understand, but it would be a good opportunity for me to help my adopted country.’

Rose thought that was a little strong; it wasn’t as if Anya was joining the forces. ‘The letter doesn’t say anything about the position being permanent. I will need to ask head office how long they expect you to be in London, as we’ll have to find a replacement while you’re away.’

‘That is fair. Perhaps I should go back to my counter while you make enquiries? Thank you for being understanding,’ Anya said, getting briskly to her feet and leaving Rose on her own.

Rose reached for the telephone on her desk and dialled the number shown on the letterhead. After a little while it was answered and she asked to speak to Mr Percival Montgomery, but was told he was not available. She quickly explained her reason for ringing and was promised that somebody would call her later in the day. Then, unable to settle, she again lifted the telephone receiver and dialled the number for Sea View.

‘Hello, Mum, I’m glad I caught you; something has cropped up . . . No, it’s nothing you should worry about, it’s more . . . Well, I’m not sure what to think,’ she said, going on to explain about the letter and Anya’s attitude.

‘But dear, this is all rather confusing, because Anya told me yesterday evening that she was going away.’

‘Oh . . .? We must have got our wires crossed,’ Rose said. ‘I really don’t know what to think. Perhaps something was mentioned to Anya to sound her out the day we had the inspector visit. All the same, it is highly unusual for Lyons not to have let me know first.’

‘I’m going to put my coat on and catch the bus to see you, so we can have a chat about this in your lunch break. I have something here I want to give you as soon as possible. It’s a letter.’

Rose groaned. ‘I hope it doesn’t contain another problem.’

‘I hope not, dear, as I recognize Ben’s handwriting.’

Rose stopped herself from shrieking in case the diners heard her through the thin wall of the office. ‘Oh, I wonder what he has to say?’

‘If you get off the telephone and allow me to get on, I’ll catch the bus that’s due in five minutes; I’ll be with you within the half hour.’

Rose busied herself working through the rest of that morning’s post before heading back through the teashop, greeting familiar diners with a ready smile as she went to the door to place a card in the window advertising for serving staff. She prayed under her breath that at least one applicant would come forward before Anya left for London; otherwise she would be donning a uniform and working in the teashop herself. As a Sally. Much as Rose had enjoyed her time as a waitress, she now had far too much work to do as a manageress. She was also aware that trying to cover both roles herself was unlikely to go down well with the new area manager, whom she was yet to meet.

Rose’s excitement grew as she waited for Flora to arrive, keeping an eye on the clock as she worked. What might Ben’s letter say? . . . Perhaps he was coming home to work in England, which would mean she would see much more of him than she had in over a year. If that was the case, she would have to give their little cottage in Pegwell Bay a spring clean and make it welcoming for the master of the house. With her head full of ideas for brightening their home, she went back into her office to write them down. Of late she’d been staying with her mum at Sea View when on a late shift, rather than travelling the couple of miles further along the coast to an empty house; the buses were unreliable, especially if there was an air raid. It would be different with Ben back home . . .

She still had her head in the clouds, dreaming of having her husband home again, when the telephone rang. ‘Lyons teashop, Margate, Mrs Hargreaves speaking,’ she answered politely.

‘Mrs Hargreaves, I am returning your earlier call requesting more information about the duration of Mrs Polinski’s transfer.’

‘Thank you for returning my call so promptly,’ Rose replied, crossing her fingers. It would be all right if they only needed Anya for a matter of weeks; in that case, Rose might just be able to cope without taking on anybody new. ‘It’s just that we are understaffed now, what with so many women doing war work and our new area manager not having joined us yet. I feel rather out on a limb.’

‘I do understand. Unfortunately, the most I can tell you is that Mrs Polinski’s new position will be open-ended. It could be two weeks, or it could be two months . . .’

This wasn’t what Rose wanted to hear. ‘How am I to cope? I’ve placed enquiries with the labour exchange for new staff, without one application. So many women have been evacuated with their children or are chasing war work, which can pay double what they would earn here . . .’ There was silence at the end of the line, making Rose wonder if she had gone too far in making her feelings known. At least they couldn’t sack her with there being a staff shortage, she smiled to herself.

‘I appreciate that this does make things difficult for you, Mrs Hargreaves, and I apologize for whisking Mrs Polinksi away, but she is perfect for the task in hand. May I suggest you liaise with your fellow manageress at the Ramsgate teashop and create a work rota? We can add a budget for overtime if any of your staff would like to work longer hours. When your new district manager arrives, they may have other ideas that will help you to manage the situation.’

Rose thanked the woman before hanging up, only then belatedly realizing that she didn’t know her name. Feeling rather as though head office had passed the buck, she stepped out of her office to give Anya the news that her new position was open-ended.

‘I just hope they allow you leave to come home and see Alexsy, otherwise he may forget what you look like,’ she said, once she had passed on the rest of the information. As soon as the words left her lips, it occurred to her that they had been rather tactless.

Anya was adamant that she would take up the new opportunity. ‘I will put my acceptance in writing,’ she told Rose, before turning to help a customer who was asking about the availability of gypsy tarts.

‘I need to escape for a little while,’ Rose said when her mum appeared. ‘We’ll only be interrupted if we sit here in the teashop, even if we’re in my office.’

‘Let’s take a walk along the seafront and stop for lunch somewhere,’ Flora suggested. ‘You are entitled to take a lunch break, you know,’ she added, seeing Rose’s troubled look. ‘We have a lot to discuss, and I want your undivided attention.’