‘Go,’ says Bill, waving me towards the table.
‘Go, what?’ I say, my heart racing. ‘Oh yes, right.’ I turn and head to the table.
‘Wait!’ he says, and I spin round to see him holding four menus and a wine list out to me.
‘Oh shit,’ I say, unfortunately out loud, as my legs carry me towards the table. Irene beams at me as we pass, and then my eye catches Russell’s as he appears through the kitchen doors to take his observational seating position at the bar. He’s about ten feet from me now, and I can feel his presence like a spotlight. I turn my head back to the diners at the table, who are all facing me with expectant smiles. Everyone’s eyes are on me.
‘Who wants a wine then?’ I blurt out.
I can feel Russell’s eyes burning into the back of me, as the four pensioners cock their grey heads almost in unison.
‘Can we see the list?’ says the portly one, who I think is called Thomas.
‘Sure,’ I say, handing him the menu.
‘That’s thelunch menu,’ Betty says through bleeding red lipstick, whilst pointing a long, wrinkly finger with very classy clear-polished nails at the big gold-embossed wordMENUon the front.
‘Right,’ I nod, fumbling through the weighty folders in my arms before handing her the wine list. ‘Thank Godsomeone’spaying attention. You want a job?’
She smiles tightly and hands the list across to Thomas, who expertly flicks it open at the same time flicking open his spectacles and sliding them onto his nose.
‘We usually get the three-course set lunch. What are the wines available with that?’ he asks.
‘Um, definitely red and white,’ I say confidently, before quickly adding, ‘unless you want some champagne? Which, I guess, is also white. Technically. I mean who cares really; it all does the same thing – am I right?’
Oh God, shut up, Birdy.
The second lady at the table looks perky at the suggestion of champagne and, just as I’m hoping I’ve found a good angle, Betty-the-bore rebuffs my suggestion with a crisp, ‘No champagne, thank you.’
‘We’d just like to know which wines are on the Specials menu today,’ Thomas repeats.
‘Can you bear with me one moment? I’m so sorry – I’m new,’ I explain as the heat rises in my cheeks.
‘Oh, of course,’ Betty says, softening.
I rush back to the bar and, unable to remember if I should know about the wine specials or not, I do what any incompetent professional does when they’re caught out. I blame everyone else.
‘Why has no one briefed me on the daily wine specials that go with the set lunch?’ I say it loudly and directly to Bill, ignoring the gaze coming from Russell, who is seated opposite him.
‘Ah, sorry. My bad,’ Bill says. ‘Here it is.’
He reaches across the bar, pulls a sheet of paper out from behind the cash register and hands it to me.
‘It should have been in the front of the wine list,’ he says, pointing to an empty plastic sleeve attached to the inside cover.
‘Oh, thank you.’
‘Make sure Heather is fully briefed, could you?’ Russell says to Bill, shaking his head.
‘Will do,’ he replies, looking aghast.
‘Sorry, I got a bit flustered there,’ I whisper out of the side of my mouth to him, hoping Russell doesn’t hear.
I head back to the table as Roxy arrives with some sparkling water, quiet and discreet as a mouse. With an elegant long arm outstretched, she tops up each of the small tumblers, before returning the water to a side-table away from the guests.
‘Here’s the daily wine specials,’ I say.
Thomas jumps in right away. ‘Betty will have the salmon and I’ll have the venison. We’ll both have the soup. And we’ll decide on dessert afterwards.’
