Chapter 13: Breakfast

It was morning. It had been a close decision, whether to take breakfast in their room or whether to enjoy the Gynarch's Breakfast Room. In the end the chance to see and be seen had won out over the idea of being waited on in their suite. They put on their New Opportunity uniforms, short black kilts and tight, white, roll-neck sweaters. Somehow it only seemed right – the Breakfast Room of the Gynarch was where New Order had been founded, so as well as offering what they were sure would be an excellent meal it was also almost a pilgrimage for any member of New Opportunity. Besides, you never knew who you would meet.

The two girls were greeted at the door to the breakfast room and shown to their table by a suitably respectful waiter in his neat, short skirted uniform. Whereas the house maids and restaurant waiters wore black uniforms the breakfast staff all wore white, high-necked, blouses and black skirts with white aprons. It was yet another example of the ways in which the traditions of the hotel were continued in spite of the change in gender for the serving staff.

Their waiter brought them coffee and buck's fizz (Why isn't it called 'doe's fizz', Effie thought.) and took their order. It was hard for the girls to resist the appeal of a cooked breakfast after their exertions of the previous night but, in the end, smoked salmon and scrambled eggs on wholemeal toast seemed a reasonable compromise between something healthy and something sustaining. The two of them were tucking in as Cherie Cola swept through on her way to check out, her soccer playing males following at her heels. "Bye, ladies," she called as she passed them. The rest of the restaurant turned to stare at Effie and Coral as if to say, "well, and who are you?"

"Bye, Cherie," Effie returned with a wave that was intended to appear casual. She and Coral could barely stop themselves from collapsing in fits of giggles as Cherie left, especially after Paul had delivered a pathetically worried look as he passed close to them.

The Breakfast Room manager tutted at Cherie as she passed. She nodded disapprovingly towards the "No Males" sign by the room's entrance where a few men had been left, their leashes attached to a hitching ring, while their mistresses breakfasted. Cherie glided on, blissfully unaware, or equally likely uncaring, of her error.

"I can't wait to tell the girls back at New Opportunity about this."

"Less a few details, I suspect," warned Coral. "I'm not sure we ought to say anything about the, you-know."

Effie laughed, thinking of Cherie's strap on and the fun they'd had using it on the men. "I think you're right about that. I think Ms Cola's ideas are still a bit radical."

Two plates appeared and their waiter offered them more coffee.

"Cute arse," Effie smirked as he went off to fetch the coffee jug.

"Shh, he'll hear you." Coral responded.

"And? If Cherie can have several guys in tow why shouldn't we?"

"Oh, don't. He's coming back."

The waiter poured their coffee. "There you are, Miss," he said. A badge over his padded chest disclosed that his name was Gregory.

Effie looked up. "Thank, you," she said. "The service is very good here."

"Thank you, Miss. We try to make sure all our guests are happy."

"How far does that extend, I wonder?" Effie's implication almost caused Coral to choke. She pressed her napkin to her mouth so stop the giggle and prevent her spraying the table with a mouthful of toast crumbs. "What time do you get off, Gregory? Perhaps we could find out if there are other ways you could keep us happy."

Gregory looked worried. "We aren't supposed to meet up with guests out of the hotel, I'm afraid, Miss," he said, looking nervously over his should to where the room manager was busily trying to check off a guest on her list of breakfast bookings. "It's more than my job is worth. If you want I can arrange for room service to..."