In the car on the way back to the Manor House, one sentence remained etched in Emma’s mind. She played the words over and over, like a gramophone needle stuck in a groove.
Once she had returned home, she joined Sebastian in the nursery. He had to be coaxed off his rocking horse, but not before a few tears had been shed. After lunch he curled up like a satisfied cat, and fell into a deep sleep. Nanny put him to bed while Emma rang for the chauffeur.
‘I’d like to be driven back into Bristol, Hudson.’
‘Anywhere in particular, miss?’
‘The Grand Hotel.’
‘You want me to do what?’ said Maisie.
‘Take me on as a waitress.’
‘But why?’
‘I’d prefer not to tell you.’
‘Do you have any idea how hard the work is?’
‘No,’ admitted Emma, ‘but I won’t let you down.’
‘And when do you want to start?’
‘Tomorrow.’
‘Tomorrow?’
‘Yes.’
‘For how long?’
‘One month.’
‘Now let me try and get this straight,’ said Maisie. ‘You want me to train you as a waitress, starting tomorrow, and you’ll be leaving in a month’s time, but you won’t tell me why?’
‘That’s about it.’
‘Are you expecting to be paid?’
‘No,’ said Emma.
‘Well, that’s a relief.’
‘So when do I start?’
‘Six o’clock tomorrow morning.’
‘Six o’clock?’ repeated Emma in disbelief.
‘This may come as a surprise, Emma, but I have customers who need to be fed by seven, and at work by eight, so you’ll have to make sure you’re at your station by six – every morning.’
‘My station?’
‘I’ll explain if you turn up before six.’
Emma wasn’t late for work once in the next twenty-eight days, possibly because Jenkins tapped on her door at 4.30 every morning, and Hudson dropped her off a hundred yards from the staff entrance of the Grand Hotel by 5.45.
Miss Dickens, as she was known by the rest of the staff, took advantage of her acting skills to make sure that no one worked out that she was a Barrington.
Mrs Clifton showed Emma no favours when she spilt some soup over a regular customer, and even less when she dropped a stack of plates that shattered in the middle of the dining room. The cost would normally have been deducted from her pay packet, if she’d had one. And it was some time before Emma got the knack of using her shoulder to barge through the swing doors that led in and out of the kitchen without colliding with another waitress coming from the opposite direction.
Despite this, Maisie quickly discovered that she only had to tell Emma something once, and she never forgot it. She was also impressed how quickly Emma could turn a table round, although she’d never laid one before in her life. And while most trainees took several weeks to master the skill of silver service, some never managing it, Emma didn’t need any further supervision by the end of her second week.
By the end of her third, Maisie wished she wasn’t leaving, and by the end of the fourth, so did several regulars, who were insisting that only Miss Dickens must serve them.
Maisie was becoming anxious about how she was going to explain to the hotel manager that Miss Dickens had given in her notice after only a month.
‘You can tell Mr Hurst that I’ve been offered a better job, with more pay,’ said Emma as she began folding up her uniform.
‘He’s not going to be pleased,’ said Maisie. ‘It might have been easier if you’d turned out to be useless, or at least been late a few times.’ Emma laughed, and placed her little white cap neatly on top of her clothes for the last time.
‘Is there anything else I can do for you, Miss Dickens?’ asked Maisie.
‘Yes please,’ said Emma. ‘I need a reference.’
‘Applying for another unpaid job, are you?’
‘Something like that,’ replied Emma, feeling a little guilty that she wasn’t able to take Harry’s mother into her confidence.
‘Then I’ll dictate a reference, you write it, and I’ll sign it,’ she said, passing Emma a sheet of the hotel’s headed notepaper. ‘To whom it may concern,’ Maisie began. ‘During the short time—’
‘Could I possibly leave out “short”?’ asked Emma.
Maisie smiled.
‘During the time Miss Dickens has been with us at the Grand’ – Emma wrote ‘Miss Barrington’, but didn’t tell her – ‘she has proved hard-working, efficient and popular with both the customers and staff. Her skills as a waitress are impressive, and her ability to learn on the job convinces me that any establishment would be fortunate to have her as a member of their staff. We will be sorry to lose her, and should she ever want to return to this hotel, we would welcome her back.’
Emma smiled as she handed the sheet of paper back. Maisie scribbled her signature above the words Restaurant Manageress.
‘Thank you,’ said Emma, wrapping her arms around her.
‘I have no idea what you’re up to, my dear,’ said Maisie, once Emma had released her, ‘but whatever it is, I wish you luck.’
Emma wanted to tell her, I’m going in search of your son, and I won’t return until I’ve found him.