Page 124 of The Little Teashop of Lost and Found
‘Why not sell that old tea set Jim Voss came round after?’ Nell suggested. ‘There was one just like it on theAntiques Roadshowon Sunday and it fetched about five thousand pounds. I were struck dumb.’
‘I don’t think it can be the same as that one downstairs – it’s so ugly!’
‘Oh, yes, it were just as hideous,’ she assured me. ‘It were French,’ she added, as if that explained it. ‘I’ve brought that snap out of the album that shows the ladies having their tea from it, like I said they did once a year.’
The black-and-white photo was small, but the details surprisingly clear: two rather Edwardian-looking ladies were sitting behind a small bamboo table on which, unmistakably, was the tea service. There wasa younger version of Nell standing next to them, her white cap pulled down low over her brow.
‘Well … I did mean to get Nile to take a look at it,’ I said doubtfully.
‘Maybe do it sooner than later, then, flower,’ suggested Tilda. ‘If it’s valuable, no wonder Molly Muswell was so keen to get it back!’
I wasn’t convinced, but I agreed I’d definitely ask Nile’s opinion, and we got on with the training, which was a hoot.
I solemnly read through all the rules for ensuring safety in the workplace, food preparation, and general good hygiene and how to wash your hands.
‘I haven’t killed any bugger yet,’ Nell said.
‘Paper towels are the most hygienic option for drying hands and you can use a clean one to turn off the tap,’ I continued, sticking to the script. ‘The dirty laundry – that’s the tablecloths and napkins – should be bagged and put in the rear hall ready for collection each evening, and the clean laundry put away in the designated cupboard until needed.’
‘Well, I’ll go t’ foot of ower stairs,’ said Nell sarkily.
‘All tea towels, handtowels and dishcloths will be run through the washing machine on a hot cycle every single day …’
I turned a page and said with relief: ‘Lastly, be careful to tick off the boxes on the whiteboard when daily and weekly cleaning tasks are completed, and the stock charts logging in the dates of perishable items.’
I sat back. ‘There, that’s about it.’
‘Go teach your grandmother to suck eggs,’ Tilda said, having sat with folded arms and an impassive face as she listened to the whole thing.
‘Well,Iknow thatyouknow, but I had to do it anyway.’
‘Never mind, it was right entertaining, like a play,’ said Nell. ‘Did you say our aprons have come?’
They were Victorian-style with a bib top, frilled edges and a generous wrap-around, and when they tried them on I think Nell’s would have gone around her twice, except she threaded the strings through holes in the waistband and tied them in a large bow in front.
‘That’s how we did it when I worked at the Copper Kettle,’ she said.
They had decided between them to wear black tops and trousersunderneath, and Nell had requested the sort of headband with a white frill attached that I’d only previously seen in ancient films.
It’s surprising what you can get on the internet.
‘Not long now till opening day, and I’ll come along early with our Tilda,’ Nell said. ‘We’ll be all revved up and ready to go, when the doors open.’
She made it sound like the opening day of a sale, when we might be trampled by a crush of customers.
‘Eh, it’ll be grand to be back in harness again and somewhere proper, too,’ Nell said happily.
‘Before you go,’ I said, ‘there’s something I need to tell you about myself, before you read it in the local paper tomorrow.’
‘Go on then,’ urged Tilda. ‘You’ve got my interest right piqued now!’
When they’d gone I rang Nile and said, ‘Can you come over? I’ve got something I want to show you.’
‘Promises, promises,’ he said. ‘I’ll be right there.’
‘Don’t get your hopes up – it’s only yourprofessionalexpertise I want,’ I told him, and he laughed.
When he arrived I’d already brought the tea set upstairs to the back room and was unwrapping and laying it out, piece by piece, on the old table.
