On Monday evening there were five chairs.
Frankie counted them before she took off her coat.
Vivian noticed.
“One's for coats.”
“Mine?”
“If it's wet.”
“It isn't.”
“Then it can have the chair anyway.”
They were in the Morning Room, not the private dining room. Arthur had gone home at last, his flat repaired enough that he'd complained about having to unpack twice. His window table stood empty, laid for somebody else.
Vivian had chosen a smaller table near the wall.
No dais. No photograph. A little vase with a flower short enough not to hide anyone.
Frankie put her coat on the spare chair.
“Where?”
“Anywhere.”
Vivian said it with an effort she didn't conceal.
Frankie took the place beside the window.
Then she nearly moved because Duncan might prefer it.
She stayed.
June brought water.
“Four?”
“Yes,” Vivian said.
“Nina's running late.”
“She told you?”
“She told me she wants the fish if anyone tries to order for her.”
Frankie smiled.
June looked at her.
“Good. You heard.”
She went.
Duncan arrived carrying a book.
Frankie looked at it.
“The one?”
“Yes.”
“Finished?”
“On the bus.”
“You took the bus?”
“I wanted to finish.”
Vivian took the book from him without asking and read the back.
“Depressing.”
“It wasn't until you described it.”
She handed it back.
He put it on the coat chair and sat opposite Frankie.
“You have the window.”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He said nothing else about it.
They looked at the menu.
Vivian had crossed out a dish with a pen.
“Not available?”
“The chef changed his mind.”
“Why not print another?”
“Because there are four of us and you can all read.”
Duncan laughed.
Frankie did too.
June glanced in from the corridor, then went back to the kitchen.
Nina arrived while they were still discussing the dish which wasn't available. She had a bag over her shoulder, hair pushed back and the expression of someone who'd just spent half an hour making a decision three other people had wanted to postpone.
“Don't ask.”
“About?” Frankie said.
“Exactly.”
She put her bag on the spare chair.
It fell over.
Duncan caught the book.
“My entire evening.”
Nina looked at it.
“Good?”
“Most of it.”
“Then you can tell me after I've eaten.”
She sat beside Vivian.
June came back.
“Fish?”
“Please.”
“Good.”
They ordered.
Frankie asked about the bus because she'd almost offered Duncan a lift home and wanted to know whether he needed one.
He said it ran often enough.
She let the offer wait.
Vivian began explaining a problem with the roof estimate. Nina interrupted to ask whether she could pass the water without lifting it over the menu.
Vivian moved the menu.
The roof waited.
The food arrived hot.
Frankie watched Vivian check everyone's plates before beginning her own. It wasn't quite hospitality or control; she could see both in the movement and didn't need to divide them before taking a mouthful.
Nina was hungry.
Duncan ate slowly.
Frankie had not had to work to make the room like this. That didn't mean it was easy to sit in it.
Duncan looked at Frankie.
“How was the retirement?”
“Good. Paper fans all over the windows. The man retiring liked his granddaughter's decorations.”
“My father would have expected a carriage clock,” Vivian said. “He'd have been unbearable about it.”
Frankie took the bread.
For a few minutes they discussed actual jobs. Nina's next event, a difficult customer Duncan would not name, the hotel tap which June now wanted everyone to know had been fixed.
She enjoyed the customer story.
Duncan told it without asking them to admire his patience. A man certain his new glasses had made the street longer. Nina said perhaps the town had become more ambitious. Vivian wanted to know whether he'd charged for the extra road.
Duncan laughed.
Frankie laughed hard enough that she put down her glass.
She could feel how much she wanted them to stay.
After the plates were cleared, Vivian brought out the little box.
Nina groaned.
“No.”
“What?”
“The leaves.”
“It's only one.”
“That was how it began,” Duncan said.
Vivian put a chipped holder beside the bread plate.
Frankie recognised it.
“The important butter,” Duncan said.
Nina laughed.
Vivian turned the damaged tip towards him.
“There. You can admire its history.”
“It appears to have survived a great deal.”
“Before you arrived.”
Frankie looked at Vivian.
The old sentence, returned without the edge she'd felt in the rehearsal room.
Not entirely without one.
She smiled.
June brought coffee for those who wanted it. Nina asked for tea. Duncan said water was fine, then changed his mind when he smelled the coffee.
Vivian accepted the change with exaggerated patience.
“People used to know what they wanted.”
“When?” Nina asked.
“I don't remember.”
Frankie leaned back.
Through the wide doors she could see the Ballroom. The dais was empty. Someone had left a chair beside it to be collected in the morning. The curtains looked good even with the ordinary lights on.
Nina reached into her bag and took out a little folded programme from the next job. Not for approval. She wanted to show them what the printer had done to her name.
“One letter.”
Vivian looked.
“Oh.”
“Adebayo,” Nina said. “Not Adebay.”
Frankie held out her hand.
Nina gave it to her.
She read the page, then passed it to Duncan.
“I'm collecting the corrected batch tomorrow,” Nina said. “Sol said I could become a solo act. One name, fewer letters, more expensive.”
Duncan passed the programme back to Vivian when she asked. She put on her glasses to inspect the missing letter. The little leaf stood beside bread nobody had finished.
Frankie looked round the table.
Nina took back the programme.
“Frankie.”
“Yes?”
“Can you pass the bread?”
It was near Vivian. Frankie had been watching it so intently she hadn't noticed she'd put her hand beside the basket.
She lifted it.
“Of course.”
Duncan held out his plate.
“Some here.”
She gave him a piece, then Nina, then took the last small one herself.
Vivian looked into the empty basket.
“June?”
Frankie started to rise.
Vivian touched her arm.
“Stay. She'll come.”
Frankie sat back down.
Nina turned the chipped leaf so its point faced the window. Duncan moved his plate to make room for the basket when it returned.
Frankie took a bite of bread and stayed in her chair.