Starling by Sarah Jane Butler

Author:Sarah Jane Butler
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Fairlight Books
Published: 2022-05-27T14:19:42+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Dinah’s daughter was sharp-jawed and angry like her mother, but she thought she could hide it in shiny words and little feminine gestures, at least in front of Dinah.

‘Oh, let me do that, Starling, you must need a break.’ ‘I made you some tea, Starling, it’s thirsty work. I should know – I grew up on it.’ ‘Mum, you can relax now. I’m here.’

Dinah had never mentioned her daughter, but when Tabitha walked into the café she melted. Starling was disconcerted. She’d thought she knew where she was with Dinah.

She didn’t reckon Dinah knew Tabitha was coming. Starling was clearing tables, Dinah behind the counter. It was lunchtime so they were pretty busy, knives scraping and clattering, the radio blaring out some dance track, a couple of guys yelling into their phones, but when Tabitha walked in there was a moment of stillness when everyone looked up and wondered what on earth this glistening, expensive woman was doing at Dinah’s. Dinah was the only one who didn’t look up – it was like a policy with her never to acknowledge a customer until they were right in front of her placing an order, and even then she gave nothing away, often only nodding in response, and usually ignoring any greeting altogether.

So she didn’t notice Tabitha until she walked right up to the counter, skipping the queue entirely, and said, in a smoothed-out voice that revealed nothing, ‘Mum,’ and reached out a slender, tanned hand to Dinah’s own scalded and scarred one. And Dinah looked up, and smiled, and everyone in the café smiled too – like they’d been waiting for a hundred-year geyser to blow and they’d been the lucky ones to be right there at the moment it happened.

Only lucky for a moment, though.

Dinah looked over Tabitha’s shoulder at Starling. ‘What you looking at? Those tables won’t clear themselves. Get a move on.’

She let Tabitha in through the counter flap, slamming it back down behind her, and turned to the next customer. ‘What?’ she said.

‘Two teas, a burger and chips and a hot dog,’ said the sweet guy who always slipped Starling a fifty-pence tip when she brought his food to his table. ‘Please,’ he said, though no one ever said please to Dinah because she’d know they were mocking her. Dinah just kept on serving, like nothing had happened. Starling carried the dirty plates back through, expecting to find Tabitha out the back, but she must have gone upstairs, leaving a shimmering space waiting for her to rematerialise. Starling started to stack the dishwasher, and Tabitha appeared right behind her, making her jump.

‘I’m Tabitha,’ she said. ‘Who are you? Mum’s next little slave?’

Starling wiped her hands on the cloth, ‘I’m Starling,’ she said evenly. ‘I just work here. Cup of tea?’

Tabitha turned away. ‘White, no sugar,’ she said, sitting at the back room table, facing away from Starling.

In slivers of quiet between the rattles and clanks of the dishwasher and the noise of the café, Starling picked up fragments as Tabitha rang round her friends.

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