Chapter 20
Saturday mornings at The Silver Teapot tended to be very busy at this time of year, and today was no exception.
Between three scheduled tea parties in the little party room upstairs and a fully booked morning at the café, there was no time for lingering.
Everything had to run like clockwork. Annabelle was even scheduled to be serving with Katie and Ellie today.
And while they were guaranteed to be exhausted by the end of the day, the profits would likely equal the takings of Tuesday to Thursday, which made it worthwhile.
And today, on a gorgeous late spring day, the number of walk-ins were likely to be high too, which always made things tricky.
If booked tea parties finished earlier than expected, there might sometimes be a chance of squeezing in a walk-in couple for coffee and cake, on the proviso they knew the table had to be released to someone else upon the hour.
And while most people were good about this, occasionally they’d run across the odd customer who seemed to think it was their right to show up and demand the special treatment and foods that others had booked for long in advance. That was always fun.
Ellie glanced at her sister and cousin, as already she could see a small line out the door. “Are you ready for this?”
“Bring it,” Katie said, that new light in her eyes since meeting Chris again and finding new purpose.
“It’s going to be a good day, I can feel it.” Annabelle grinned, like the ball of sunshine she was.
Ellie was so blessed to have these two ladies in her life. “Let’s do it.”
She switched the CLOSED sign to OPEN, then unlocked and opened the door. “Hello, and welcome to The Silver Teapot.”
She spent the next minutes directing customers to booked tables, getting people settled, taking drink orders, and beginning the first of many trips to the kitchen, where Mum and Dad had been up early baking and preparing special sandwiches, tarts, and pastries for today.
An hour into service, she was in the kitchen waiting on the first of the tiered trays to be readied for delivery to the party room when her thoughts slipped back to weeks ago when she’d had her special high tea with Ethan.
This high tea was, naturally, superior. The Silver Teapot’s array of goodies included an assortment of triangle sandwiches (cucumber, coronation chicken, and curried egg), mini pies, a sausage roll and quiche, plus both a plain and fruit scone, and then the selection of sweet treats, including a chocolate éclair and a tiny meringue-topped lemon tart, and a few berries “to cleanse the palate” as Mum liked to say.
Definitely superior. Still, what had made the Hydro Grand high tea special was the company.
Her heart panged, but she shook her head. She’d been doing better at forgetting Ethan and had no desire to stir things up again.
She’d received a message from Jackson yesterday saying that Ethan had called again.
And while he’d done his best to stave him off, he may have accidentally spilled that her dad was a former cop.
Which layered on a new level of dread about how long it might take Ethan to put two and two together to finally realise that her dad helmed The Silver Teapot—and how long it would be before he might appear.
Why was he so keen to talk to her? She couldn’t let her heart go back there. She couldn’t. That way disaster lay, and she was trying to be wise, trying to be sensible, even though her heart had proved it was as susceptible to folly as the next girl’s.
She closed her eyes. Lord, give me strength.
“Ellie?” Her eyelids opened to see her mum regarding her anxiously. “Are you unwell? We need all hands on deck today, but if you’re not feeling well, it’s better that you take the day off.”
“No, I’m fine!” She straightened. Smiled. “Just thinking. Now, is this all ready to go?”
“Just a couple of strawberries to go … There!”
Mum gazed proudly at her creation, then an instant later was back at the kitchen bench readying the next. The Silver Teapot stopped for no one.
Ellie grasped the handle of the three-tiered plate and, with a hand on the bottom to secure it, made her way up the narrow stairs to the room on the top floor.
Inside, a colourful array of bunting mixed with fairy lights created the friendly, festive vibe appreciated by the groups that used this space—little girls’ birthday parties, hens’ parties for brides-to-be, light meals for ladies who lunched, family parties for special birthdays, or just because.
She loved that so many people chose The Silver Teapot as their destination to celebrate and spend time with those they loved.
She felt honoured that they’d chosen to come here, and hence she wanted to make their time as special as she could.
She paused at the party room’s door, and the faces of the family swung to meet her with the usual “Ooohhh!” and eyes wide with anticipation.
She smiled, placed the platter on the table, then obliged the guests with their usual requests for photos. So fun.
But when she descended the stairs, it seemed like the busyness of the morning was getting away from Katie and Annabelle, as a burly man stood near the door loudly exclaiming that he had a booking and demanding a table for himself and his extensive family.
She quickly scanned the full tables, but from the looks of it, it seemed they’d be busy for quite some time yet.
At the frantic look Katie sent her, Ellie drew herself up and smiled at the patrons who’d paused their eating to see what the fuss was about. With a murmur of “Turn up the Vivaldi” to Katie, she then greeted the man and asked if she could help.
“You can only help if you’re the manager.”
Well, for all intents and purposes, today she was. “I understand you made a booking. May I ask under what name?”
He told her, and she checked the registration book—an old-school leather-bound book they liked to use in case there was a power outage and the digital record was lost. “Hmm. We don’t seem to have your name here.
” She flipped over a few pages. Internally winced.
“It’s actually written here for last weekend. ”
So this was the no-show Mum had complained about.
People who booked then didn’t show had been the reason to implement a new policy this year of requesting a fifty percent nonrefundable deposit up-front.
If people couldn’t make it but let them know, it could be transferred to a different date, but that was only upon request and made at their discretion.
People didn’t realise that when they booked for ten people and didn’t show, that was not only a waste of prepared food and staff wages, but it also meant empty seats and the prevention of others from coming.
Saying you were going to do one thing, then not doing it was bad form, like a lie.
She hated the self-entitlement that implied.
“But we’re here today.”
“And you were booked for last weekend. I’m sorry if you muddled up the dates.”
“I didn’t muddle anything, lady.” He took a step towards her.
She lifted her chin, refusing to step back or let him see her fear. She said softly, “If this is your way of asking if you can eat here today, then you’re going about it the wrong way.”
“But my family is here.”
Her heart softened. She smiled at the older lady who held enough similar features that she was probably his mother. “Is it a special occasion?”
“My seventieth birthday,” the woman said.
“Happy birthday.”
Ellie smiled, thinking quickly. It was a shame the nice lady would have to miss out, especially when it seemed her son was at fault in remembering and his attitude such that he was likely to kick up an even bigger stink if she refused them.
But the café was so full that even if they could cram in another table, it wouldn’t fit them all.
The party upstairs would likely go for another thirty minutes, then they had another party coming in thirty minutes after that.
And besides, they’d struggle to get enough food for the type of booking they’d made.
“Excuse me while I check with the kitchen.”
“But—”
“Excuse me,” she said firmly, then ignoring the man, moved to the back where Katie was taking an empty teapot to be refilled.
“There’s no way we can fit them in,” Katie murmured.
“Can you look upstairs and see where they’re up to?” Some parties demolished their food immediately, others liked to savour their food and use every minute of their allocated time.
“I’ll ask Mum and Dad and see if there’s enough food.”
She went and did that, got a sigh and a “I suppose we can,” then returned, met by Katie with a shake of her head and “they’re taking forever,” which drew fresh resolve.
She returned to the man and told him the situation. “I’m sorry, but the booking—” Annabelle had also checked online—”was definitely made for last weekend, and at this moment there is no spare seating to accommodate a large party.” She glanced at the lady. “I’m very sorry.”
The woman sighed and murmured, “I knew it was too good to be true,” which instantly provoked more compassion.
“If you would like to come back in half an hour, then we can see if there is space, but as you can see we are fully booked today, so there is no guarantee.”
The man frowned. “And what are we to do until then?”
“Well, you could go down to the main street and have a look amongst the gardens and see the tulip displays. There are also a number of very interesting shops you could peruse. And if you return in thirty minutes and we don’t have space, then I can make some recommendations for other places.”
“Thank you,” the lady murmured, as her son rolled his eyes and in a loud voice told his family that they’d go find someplace that valued their customers.
Ellie kept a small smile on her face until the door closed, then exhaled, turning to see that many of the seated customers were still watching. “Show’s over, I’m afraid.”
This earned her a few smiles, and the hum of conversation picked up.