THE SPANISH WAITER: NINETEEN

Ivan, at work in the restaurant

It was the end of the day and dinner was being served in the hotel restaurant. The first and her mother few guests had wandered in and Ivan found himself serving Nancy and her mother Peggy at their table.

“Where’s the chips?” asked Peggy Andrews, her frown puzzled as though half her world was missing and she wanted to know what to do about it. “I like chips with my dinner,” she added, “you know I do.”

Nancy sighed. “They don’t serve chips with soup, mum,” she said wearily, “look, I’ve got enough on my mind without worrying about chips!”

“But I like my chips,” grumbled Peggy, “I always have chips at home, and when I go out like I used to with your boyfriend. Who was that I went out with? He was nice and looked after me properly.”

“It was my dad, mum, and he was your husband,” said Nancy quietly, “can’t you remember? You were married to him for ages, and he died. We went to his funeral, remember?”

“Then who was that man you were talking to earlier? Was that your boyfriend, or was it my husband? I get a bit forgetful, you know. But I can’t help it.”

“I know you can’t, mum. And that man was my metalwork teacher from when I was at school. Mr Maybe. You saw him on open days while he still worked there and he told you about the work I was doing and how clever I was.”

“Yes,” Peggy sighed, he said kind things about you. Of course I remember.”

“And now he works in this hotel, as a barman and waiter.”

“And he doesn’t bring me any chips.”

“No, mum, you don’t have chips with soup!”

“Is that what this is? Soup?”

“Is everything all right?” It was Ivan’s voice and Nancy looked up and smiled at him.

“It’s my mum. She’s okay, but just a bit confused.” murmured Nancy sadly, “she gets that way sometimes. She can’t help it.”

Peggy smiled at him. “Are you our Nancy’s boyfriend, then?” she asked.

“Mum!” hissed Nancy, “I just told you: this is Mr Maybe, my metalwork teacher before I left school.”

“Oh.” Peggy paused, and then a light from somewhere illuminated her world. “Of course. You mean the one who went to prison.” she said brightly.

Before Nancy could say anything Ivan broke into the conversation. “You must be thinking of someone else,” he said calmly, “but don’t worry: I won’t tell anyone!”

“It was all round the estate,” Peggy said, concentrating like she hadn’t done for a long time. “What was I saying? It’s there aren’t any chips and I like chips with my dinner.”

“Mum! I told you! This is soup and the chips come next!” Nancy said, crossly, “you really must try and remember the simple things like what you’re eating!”

“It’s all right. I’ll fetch her some chips, specially for her,” smiled Ivan, and he went towards the kitchen door

“Such a nice man,” smiled Nancy, “you chose well when you chose him.”

“He’s not my husband!” Nancy found herself snapping, “my husband’s back at home and working!”

“Of course he is, dear, if you say so.”

Ivan returned shortly after that with a small dish of chips.

“Chef did these specially for you,” he told Peggy, putting them next to her soup bowl.

“That’s nice,” beamed Peggy, and then she frowned, “do I know you? Nancy, do I know this man? Is he your husband?”

“I told you, mum,” sighed Nancy, and she shook her head so that Ivan could see her frustration.

“Don’t worry,” he said, “is it all right for me to talk in front of…” he indicated Peggy with a slight movement of his head.

“Oh, she wonlt understand,” replied Nancy, “ she doesn’t know who I am half the time!”

“It’s sad,” he murmured quietly, “I had an aunt who forgot just about everything except the name of her cat even after it had died. That aunt is dead now, has been for ages.”

“I prefer mum to be alive like she is rather than dead,” Nancy told him.

“Of course you do! But listen. I wanted to thank you for explaining to Geraldine what you saw when you were only a schoolgirl. I’m so grateful. I needed a witness back then, but didn’t notice you. I only wish I had.”

“I did tell the police Inspector, but when I spoke to him he saw a schoolgirl and didn’t trust me. It was as if he didn’t want to believe me, like he’d decided what had happened and that had to be that.”

“These are lovely chips,” put in Peggy, “but the gravy’s a bit runny!”

“It’s soup, mum,” sighed Nancy.

“And it’s gone cold,”

“Then you shouldn’t have wasted so much time demanding chips!” Nancy was on the brink of shouting at her mother, and controlled herself just in time.

“I’ll just go and talk to Geraldine at that table over there,” said Ivan, “I hope to see you later, Nancy, and you, wr, Nancy’s mum.”

He made his way across the restaurant floor, The place had become quite busy. Two more coaches had pulled into the coach park and the hotel as beginning to look like it did during the summer months.

“Just so you know that I’ve noticed you,” he murmured to Geraldine, “but I can’t stop at the moment. I’ve been talking to Nancy and her mother, but the older lady’s hard work.”

“I’ve been in touch with my superior back in Brumpton,” whispered Geraldine, “I’ll tell you later when you’ve got a few minutes.”

“Okay.” And Ivan went about his business of serving as many people as he could in the shortest possible time. A local guitarist and singer had been booked to perform in the hotel lounge area and the guests all seemed keen to hurry their meal in order to enjoy the entertainment. So he helped them on their way by not wasting any time unless it could be helped.

But he couldn’t help smiling when he took the sweet course of profiteroles to Nancy’s table, and her mother asked him where the chips were to go with it.

© Peter Rogerson 16.11.22

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