The Crew by Margaret Mayhew Read Free Book Online Page B

Charlie takin’ ’er on.’
    â€˜Leave him alone, lads,’ Harry said. ‘Give him a bit of peace.’
    But he knew it was going to be hopeless to hide it from them. They were going to find out sooner or later and it might as well be sooner. He couldn’t help it if they pulled his leg and thought him a mummy’s boy. Better to tell them straight out. ‘It’s not a girl,’ he said. ‘It’s my mother. She’s rented a cottage just near. I’m going to see her.’
    There was silence in the hut and the four of them stared at him. Pins dropping could have been heard easy as anything. Let them laugh, he thought. I don’t care.
    â€˜You taking the mickey?’ Stew looked incredulous.
    He shook his head.
    Jock said quietly, ‘She must care a lot about you. I reckon you’re a lucky lad.’
    â€˜Can’t see my old woman doing that,’ Bert agreed.
    â€˜Good on you, kid,’ Stew added, though more doubtfully. ‘Off you go.’
    He fumbled in the locker for his cap and as he did so Sam fell out of his hiding place onto the floor. Harry, who was the nearest, picked up the teddy bear. There was another silence. ‘Yours, Charlie?’
    â€˜Mum brought him with her,’ he said desperately. ‘She thought he’d bring good luck.’
    Harry held the bear aloft, showing him round thehut. ‘What do you say, lads? Let’s make him our mascot. Take him along with us.’
    There was unanimous agreement. Nobody seemed to care about the one ear and one eye.
    â€˜That’s settled, then. Got a name, ’as he?’
    â€˜Sam.’
    â€˜Well, Sam’s one of us now,’ Harry announced. ‘And I reckon he’ll see us through.’
    The mustard had gone all lumpy. No matter how hard she stirred it, the lumps wouldn’t go away. Old Mr Cedric, the head waiter, wouldn’t notice because he was half-blind, not to mention him fancying a drop, but Miss Hargreaves would if she did one of her snap inspections, and the guests might complain, especially Mrs Mountjoy. She thought wildly of throwing the whole lot away, but you couldn’t do that with everything so scarce. Maybe if she went on stirring and stirring it would get better.
    Miss Frost came into the dining-room. ‘Is everything all right, Peggy? Do you want a hand with anything?’
    She liked Miss Frost. She was always helping out, and you could trust her not to sneak to Miss Hargreaves. It must be awful having a crooked foot like that, with people staring at you all the time.
    â€˜It’s the mustard, miss. It’s gone lumpy.’
    â€˜Let me see. Oh, dear . . . I think we’ll have to try getting rid of them with a whisk.’
    Miss Frost fetched a whisk and another bowl and, working with a little of the mustard mixture at a time, smoothed out the lumps like magic.
    â€˜There you are. Next time, the way to do it is only to add a very little water at first and mix it well in before you add any more. Then you won’t get lumps.’
    â€˜Thank you, miss.’
    Peggy spooned the mustard carefully into the little pots and set them on the dining-room tables, together with the salt and pepper cruets. She arranged them in neat groups beside the vases of flowers in the centre of each table. Then she laid out the cutlery, cleaning off any spot marks with the corner of her apron.
    When she’d first started a week ago she hadn’t really known how to do anything much and she didn’t think Miss Hargreaves would have given her the job if it hadn’t been so hard to get help these days, with the war on. She had stared at her across her desk as though she didn’t like what she saw one bit.
    â€˜How old are you?’
    â€˜Sixteen, madam.’
    â€˜Have you had any experience of waitressing?’
    â€˜No, madam. But I’m sure I could learn quick.’
    Miss Hargreaves had frowned.