Chapter 29

“Yes, please, Jimmy. I have two of my team off today and who knows what we will have tomorrow. If I give you an order picking list, can you gather the parts into a picking box and deliver them with the order form to the despatch area? I won’t ask you to deal with heavy stuff: that needs two men and a fork lift.”

I spent the next two hours collecting parts to fill orders, and surprisingly I enjoyed the work. I didn’t have to put too much mental effort into the task; just be very, very, careful in what item I picked, and in what quantities. Jim had to remain supervising the picking and packing, followed by messages to their client to tell them their order was on its way. Mr Emerson came to Jim and offered his help, but the only task Jim had for him was processing the orders received, and that did not take much time. Jim carefully avoided offering any heavy lift job!

When there were enough long distance deliveries ready to ship, Jim drove the load across to our distribution partners, and got them to offload the packages for sorting into their own delivery system. Our own drivers took off with the local deliveries, and we finished the day with all orders picked, packed, and sent on their way.

Jim and I heaved a collective sigh of relief. Lunch had been shortened slightly to fit the current schedule, but Marjory and I got home, gobbled up our food and were back to the offices in time for me to join Jim with the afternoon tasks. My own workload was dropped, postponed for the day, but Emerson was informed and approved the necessary delay. Much of my intended work was to do with reviewing procedures and timescales, so not particularly urgent. Mostly I expected it to be a case of rewording to cater for the new location and compare the advantages and disadvantages it offered.

I thought all was going smoothly until Emerson told me that Chairman Yeats had instructed him about the engineering jobs we had on hand.

“He says safety is his priority, so if there is any doubt, halt the lines until we can be sure of safety. I want you to go round with me to pass on this instruction to the crews, so there can be no later dispute about what I told them.”

I acceded to his demands, and we warned the men (and the occasional woman) that should the flu epidemic strike, company policy was to be safety first and that if a shortage of qualified staff affected production, so be it. We would sort things out later.

Unsurprisingly, the staff were fairly keen on adhering to this policy, so there were no objections or questions raised.

When I went to collect Marjory for going home, she informed me of a call she had received from Craigmile. He was concerned that his new restaurant on the Top Flight estate might be adversely affected if flu knocked out any staff. He wanted to ask her if any of our girls were willing to undergo an emergency training session for general waitressing, and fill-in should anyone call in sick.

I almost asked why she was being asked, but quickly realised that as the major investor, she was the natural choice to deal with the problem. I at once added my approval to the suggestion.

“Sounds very sensible, Marjory. Any of the ladies that want to be able to help, even if it doesn’t happen, should take up the offer of a quick course in waitressing. Every restaurant business has their own quality standards; the higher end restaurants are the ones with the highest demands on their staff. You could not just walk in and be able to waitress at their level of service. You would not be able to work to their standard without training.”

Once we were home and welcomed, Marjory called them all together and briefed them on the plan. They all wanted to take it on, even including Jenny, which surprised me. Marjory thought the same way.

“Jenny, at least half of the clientele will be men!”

“Yes, I realised that, Marjory, but I thought, in public company no-one is going to bother me, for I can just run back to the kitchen and report it. Can I try this, as an experiment? I am already getting used to seeing Jimmy around the house, and the other girls will be there to protect me, won’t they?”

“True enough. No man who is there with his family, or work colleagues, is going to try anything that would get complaints from his family. Right, is that everyone willing to take part in the training? We’ll have to start tomorrow. I’ll phone Mr Craigmile right away.”

Marjory got on the phone immediately. Mr Craigmile was at the restaurant, and by the abrupt way he replied, extremely busy.

“Yes?”

“Marjory here. All the women in this household are willing to do your short course in waitressing. They could come in tomorrow. That do you?”

“Yes, thanks. Make it ten a.m. if you can. Okay?”

“I’ll tell them. Bye, Ronald.”

“Bye, Marjory. Thanks.” He put the phone down.

Marjory suddenly thought, ‘Is it legal for a twelve-year-old or thirteen-year-old to work?’. She switched on the house computer in my study, and did a search. I came into the study while she was doing this, and watched her, saying nothing.

She found that Federal law set a minimum age of 14 for non-agricultural jobs, and for driving tasks, so Jenny could not legally work. She could do the short course, but not officially be employed afterwards.

I spoke over her shoulder.

“Jenny, eh? Not legal to work until fourteen?”

“Yes, love. Pity, for she wants to start being involved in society; slowly though.”

“Doing the short course at the restaurant is not defined as working, is it?”

“Not in the slightest; it is education. But after that, the restaurant can’t employ her at all.”

I mused, “Isn’t there a thing called Work Experience? Unpaid?”

“Yes, you are right, though that is meant to be very short term; a day or a week is what is intended.”

“So, if she wants some experience, call it work experience, and the restaurant doesn’t pay her. You do, calling it pocket money or a weekly allowance from her parents.”

Marjory chuckled, “Jimmy, dear, you are always good at getting round legal restrictions of all kinds. I think that would work, provided we keep her hours of work low. She is still a youngster, remember.”

I suggested, “Ask her for her date of birth. If she is not clear about that, she should know her birthday for certain, then all we need is to work out the year. We could even get the cops to ask her parents; just the year, so there is no definitive data getting passed along.”

The ladies sent off me and Marjory to our work, with orders to report to the restaurant for lunch. Marjory told me as we walked across to the warehouse, “I bet we still just get sandwiches and coffee for lunch, but in a higher class of surroundings.”

I laughed as I replied, “You could be right. We can enjoy the walk over, unless you want to drive so we can spend more time there.”

“I’d prefer the drive, as I want to hear how the girls are coping with the course.”

We arrived for our lunch, stepping inside the open door. There was a buffet-style lunch table, with price labels stuck lightly to the plate for each item, with a bar code on the label. There was a pile of trays to put your choices on. The simple instruction was to collect your lunch, along with its label, and pay along with your coffee at the till.

Marjory and I joined the other workers, picking what we fancied for our lunch. The drinks were simple: the same cheap price for all: coffee, tea, hot chocolate, or hot lemon, and cold aerated drinks. At the till was a waitress, being shadowed by Cherry. She flashed us a smile as we came to the till, but otherwise just watched. She was clearly learning how to deal with the till operation, scanning the items and then asking to scan the worker’s credit card in payment. It was simple and fast, as was intended.

We sat down at one of the tables, and I was pleasantly surprised to find them with tablecloths to cover the surface. Everyone was being very careful not to spill anything, so perhaps that was their purpose; no table wiping after the customers.

Marjory and I consumed our lunch, then she went off to see what was happening in the staff area. I left her to it while I examined the clientele around me. They seemed very satisfied; indeed were not at all unruly. They spoke quietly to each other, in keeping with the quality of their surroundings.

Marjory emerged from the back room, full of smiles.

She told me, “They are having a ball, Jimmy. They have been told that they are responsible for the good name of the restaurant, and this has made them even more intensely studying their potential tasks. I reckon they will all be high when we get home. Thank goodness they don’t have to work this evening. They have learned a little of the higher end of the workload, but mostly concentrating on the basics that Ronald imposes on all his staff.”

“Sounds like they enjoy learning, though I expect it is not academic.”

“Oh, but it is! They have to learn about all the different wines; what is best for a particular dish, as well as the merits of each vintage, and an understanding of the price per bottle of each wine compared with the client’s ability to pay. That means judging a customer by his or her clothing standard, hairdressing, nails and other signs of the client’s social standing. However, they were also told to observe the client’s behaviour, as on occasion someone can afford all the fripperies but remains a spendthrift lout. These characters sometimes can’t pay the bill and expect to run a tab. This restaurant does not run tabs; it is full payment or being immediately sued for the amount and barred from the restaurant until the bill is cleared. The threat is usually enough to ensure payment at once. The client can work it out with his or her banker.”

I was astonished at Ronald’s tactics, but Marjory smiled happily.

“Ronald has it right, Jimmy. Enforce his strict rules, and the restaurant’s reputation gets even higher within the community. It is marked out as a place to be seen, for that shows you can afford to pay the bill at once, no matter how high the prices. The prices accordingly reflect the high quality of the food and service.”

Ronald realised that if there was a problem with a staff illness, as executive chef he could switch staff between the town restaurant and the country restaurant; at least to a certain extent. It worked for one chef or one waitress off sick, but when numbers off sick increased, so did the problems. In an emergency, he could get the sous-chef to take over making a dish until another chef could double up temporarily.

Waitresses were a simpler matter, as they all had similar tasks to do. The Hargreaves women were learning the basics, but would need to shadow one or more waitresses for a couple days, to gain the nuances of the work in this restaurant.

The shadow work was acceptable in small doses, but having twice as many waitresses in the restaurant at one time would build up into a traffic jam, so he ordered the shadowing to be for a maximum of two waitresses. The shadow waitress could write down all the orders at each table, identifying which person each order was for, by their position around the table. Knowing these positions enable a waitress to appear to know the individual and his or her tastes. That gave a good impression to the clients. The official waitress would explain that her shadow was a waitress in training, and that the best training was ‘on the job’ with a professional to guide her. She would tell the clients that if they had any suggestions to offer, to feel free to state them. The trainee would welcome wise comments, but not wisecracks!

Two days later, the twins, Flora and Lily, were called in to help at the restaurant. Sharl and her sisters looked put out, and said so to Marjory. She just smiled at them.

“Sharl, have you looked at yourself in the mirror recently? You, Cherry and Charlotte are all visibly pregnant, whereas Lily and Flora are not obvious that way. Mr Craigmile is simply applying common sense and starting by taking in two females that are the most like his regular waitressing staff. He is probably keeping you in reserve, should the flu strike more of his staff. Elizabeth looks older than you and Isabella is visibly younger, so who would you pick first?”

“Oh.” Sharl had been forgetting her pregnancy, much to her surprise. “I suppose that makes sense, Marjory.”

“Of course it does, dear. You expected to be chosen first as you are a leader, but that is not what Ronald needs. His prime requirement is an ability to take orders. You are a lovely woman, Sharl, but you only like to take orders from Jimmy, and that restriction shows. For example, I have to ask you nicely, every time I want you to do something; but you always rush to do what Jimmy wants.”

“Well of course! I love him, dammit! He is my man; the father of my children!”

“You are not alone in that, Sharl, but we each react in a different way according to our personality.”

Sharl slumped her shoulders as she said, “I try, Marjory. I gave up being bossy, but I still like to lead the team.”

“And you do that well, my dear; very well. Just don’t assume that makes you best suited for every job. Every team leader needs team players as well.”

Sharl scowled, but left it at that. Marjory and I set off for work, unsure if lunch was to be at home or the restaurant. We’d hear, no doubt.

Jim Orkney was looking for me again, visibly anxious.

“Well, Jim; what’s the score today?” I asked.

“The same as yesterday. Thank God we don’t have more off work. You up for the same as yesterday?”

“Sure. I am learning more about the company by doing this filling-in. It should pay off in the end.”

I grinned. “That’s what I will tell Emerson anyway.”

“Right. Thanks. Go get ready while I have a look at what has come in from the website.”

This allowed me to go to my office desk and get caught up with anything urgent for a little while. There was surprisingly little. Was I so unimportant?”

Emerson’s secretary, Julie, came and told me that she was understudying me at present.

“Anything that is simple and straightforward, Mr Emerson lets me deal with. He says you are more valuable on the shop floor for now.”

I laughed. “I don’t know if that is good news or bad news.”

She retorted, “Just treat it as news, and you won’t be disappointed.”

*Okay. Thanks for what you did. At least you left the tough ones for me to handle.”

“They weren’t so much tough as dangerous. The wrong decision could be bad for the company, so I left those for you.”

“So I can make a mess of them?”

“Only if you want to,” she laughed.

“Thanks, Julie. You make me feel good – not.”

“Just doing what Mr Emerson wants me to do.”

“You are good at your job, Julie; I’ll give you that.”

It was near the end of the work day when I got a phone call from Captain Thomson.

“Jimmy, a bit of news about Jenny. Our friends in the witness protection program spotted an attempt to locate Jenny’s whereabouts. They won’t say what and where the attempt was noted, as they have to protect themselves as well, but the attempt got no farther than identifying our city as a general location. As Jenny does not appear in any of our records under her birth surname, just the pseudonym her guardian used, we don’t think there is any possibility of identifying her whereabouts. Still, I thought you should know, so you don’t expose her to more public knowledge. They will be looking for a girl of her approximate age and with no visible parents that belong to her. Is she staying put at your house?”

“Not quite. She has been doing waitress training at the new restaurant, but no more than training, due to the age limitations on paid work for a girl of her age. Do you want me to prevent her appearing at the restaurant when it is open to the public?”

“If she is at the restaurant in any way whatsoever, I’d like to offer a suggestion. Can you have her appear at the restaurant or any other venue with a disguise to make her seem older or a different race, so she does not appear to be the person being sought? I am thinking of fancy cosmetic procedures – the sort of thing that actors have to get for their stage, film or TV work?

That type of artistry changes a person’s looks massively.”

I got the concept he had in mind, and it seemed excellent. I promised to look into it. All I had to do was find the face artist to perform the task; not an easy option.

As Marjory and I walked back to the house, I asked her, “Do you know of any make-up artist we could call on? I am proposing we make Jenny look older than she is, in case the people her parents are hiding from, come looking for her. They will be looking for a girl her age, so it we make Jenny seem older...”

“Eh? What makes you sure they know where she is? I thought we had her fully shielded?”

“Bear with me, Marjory, and answer my question please,” I begged.

“A make-up artist? You are talking about a professional, the sort of woman that would be based near film studios. Why not get an expert on cosmetics use to do the job? That would be easier to find. How about whoever does the make-up for the local theater in the city?”