hoped not. If she got a good night’s sleep, getting up at five forty-five in the morning wasn’t a problem, but if the noise continued it would be impossible.
She’d have to wait and see, but if the worst came to the worst, perhaps she could ask Nobby Clark for a different room. There were two empty, one on this landing and one above. She didn’t fancy being on the same floor as Mr Bardington, but the one further along on this level would be fine and not directly underneath the man. The only downside was that it looked over the rear of the building, with nothing but a yard and the back of a factory wall in view. With this room she enjoyed being able to look on to the High Street, seeing the hustle and bustle of the market. Tired of drawing faces, she had begun to sketch the scene. Of course, she still craved colour. How else could she bring the pictures alive? The colourful stalls with their brightly striped awnings, the fruit and vegetables piled high, the crowds bustling, red-faced from the heat. They needed colour, and she just had to buy some paint.
The breakfast rush was in full swing and, though tired from lack of sleep, Pearl was doing her best to keep an eye on Alice. So far she hadn’t cleared any of Pearl’s tables, but as they were so busy it was impossible to watch her all the time.
Frank Hanwell came in, his son, Eric, with him, and Pearl smiled as she went to serve them.
‘Hello, and what can I get you?’
‘My usual, and beans on toast for Eric.’
The boy grinned at Pearl and once again she was captivated by his face. If he’d been a girl, Eric would have been described as beautiful. Somehow, handsome didn’t fit, and seemed an inadequate description. With lovely emerald-green eyes, slightly slanted like a cat’s, flawless skin, with a dash of freckles, he had to Pearl, perfect features.
She grinned back at him. ‘One slice of toast, or two?’
‘Two, please, miss. I’m helping my dad on his stall today.’
‘Are you? That’s nice.’
‘Lucy’s a bit under the weather, and school doesn’t start again until September,’ Frank said by way of explanation. ‘I don’t know about help, though. Somehow I think Eric might be more of a hindrance.’ He leaned forward, the sting taken out of his words as he ruffled the boy’s dark hair.
Pearl wrote out the order and hurried to the kitchen, her tables now full, but as she returned to the dining room she was just in time to see a couple of her customer’s leaving. Alice left what she was doing and hurried to clear their table. Pearl kept her head low, but was watching from under her lashes when she saw Alice slip something into her apron pocket.
As if suddenly aware that she was being observed, Alice’s head spun around. Their eyes locked, but it was Alice who looked away first, her face slightly flushed as she picked up the rest of the plates, brushing past her to the kitchen.
Pearl waited until Alice returned to the dining room, surreptitiously watching her movements. Alice passed the counter, but didn’t put any money into the jar, and Pearl was sure then that Alice was taking her tips. But what could she do? She was too scared to confront Alice, and anyway, she’d deny it. Yet how could she offer proof?
‘What’s up, Pearl?’ Derek Lewis called.
She went to his table, her mind still turning. If someone else saw what Alice was up to, there was no way the girl could deny it. ‘Derek, can I talk to you later?’
He frowned. ‘You’re not going to tell me you can’t see me tonight, are you?’
‘No, of course not. It’s just something I may need a bit of help with.’
‘Oh, right. Well, anything I can do, you only have to say the word.’
‘Thanks, Derek.’
The rest of the day seemed to drag by. Pearl kept an eye on Alice, but she kept to her own tables. Then, at three fifteen, near the end of her shift, Kevin came down from the upstairs flat. He walked towards her, but instead of a threatening look, he was
She’d have to wait and see, but if the worst came to the worst, perhaps she could ask Nobby Clark for a different room. There were two empty, one on this landing and one above. She didn’t fancy being on the same floor as Mr Bardington, but the one further along on this level would be fine and not directly underneath the man. The only downside was that it looked over the rear of the building, with nothing but a yard and the back of a factory wall in view. With this room she enjoyed being able to look on to the High Street, seeing the hustle and bustle of the market. Tired of drawing faces, she had begun to sketch the scene. Of course, she still craved colour. How else could she bring the pictures alive? The colourful stalls with their brightly striped awnings, the fruit and vegetables piled high, the crowds bustling, red-faced from the heat. They needed colour, and she just had to buy some paint.
The breakfast rush was in full swing and, though tired from lack of sleep, Pearl was doing her best to keep an eye on Alice. So far she hadn’t cleared any of Pearl’s tables, but as they were so busy it was impossible to watch her all the time.
Frank Hanwell came in, his son, Eric, with him, and Pearl smiled as she went to serve them.
‘Hello, and what can I get you?’
‘My usual, and beans on toast for Eric.’
The boy grinned at Pearl and once again she was captivated by his face. If he’d been a girl, Eric would have been described as beautiful. Somehow, handsome didn’t fit, and seemed an inadequate description. With lovely emerald-green eyes, slightly slanted like a cat’s, flawless skin, with a dash of freckles, he had to Pearl, perfect features.
She grinned back at him. ‘One slice of toast, or two?’
‘Two, please, miss. I’m helping my dad on his stall today.’
‘Are you? That’s nice.’
‘Lucy’s a bit under the weather, and school doesn’t start again until September,’ Frank said by way of explanation. ‘I don’t know about help, though. Somehow I think Eric might be more of a hindrance.’ He leaned forward, the sting taken out of his words as he ruffled the boy’s dark hair.
Pearl wrote out the order and hurried to the kitchen, her tables now full, but as she returned to the dining room she was just in time to see a couple of her customer’s leaving. Alice left what she was doing and hurried to clear their table. Pearl kept her head low, but was watching from under her lashes when she saw Alice slip something into her apron pocket.
As if suddenly aware that she was being observed, Alice’s head spun around. Their eyes locked, but it was Alice who looked away first, her face slightly flushed as she picked up the rest of the plates, brushing past her to the kitchen.
Pearl waited until Alice returned to the dining room, surreptitiously watching her movements. Alice passed the counter, but didn’t put any money into the jar, and Pearl was sure then that Alice was taking her tips. But what could she do? She was too scared to confront Alice, and anyway, she’d deny it. Yet how could she offer proof?
‘What’s up, Pearl?’ Derek Lewis called.
She went to his table, her mind still turning. If someone else saw what Alice was up to, there was no way the girl could deny it. ‘Derek, can I talk to you later?’
He frowned. ‘You’re not going to tell me you can’t see me tonight, are you?’
‘No, of course not. It’s just something I may need a bit of help with.’
‘Oh, right. Well, anything I can do, you only have to say the word.’
‘Thanks, Derek.’
The rest of the day seemed to drag by. Pearl kept an eye on Alice, but she kept to her own tables. Then, at three fifteen, near the end of her shift, Kevin came down from the upstairs flat. He walked towards her, but instead of a threatening look, he was
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