Lord, what a difference a day makes...And the difference is you. (What a Diff'rence a Day Makes, Dinah Washington)
Val jumped and spilled some of Bernie's coke onto the bar, she apologized and started to fix it. The cause of her reaction had been Paddy, slamming the pub phone back onto its receiver with such force that the whole thing had careered onto the floor. A busy Friday night with the jukebox blaring out Tubthumping meant very few heads turned towards the incident.
"Well that's just bloody great, absolutely charming," Paddy ranted. Both barmaid and customer waited silently, looking opened mouthed at the landlord.
"Ursula, she is not coming in tomorrow or Sunday or any other day, she has had a better offer from the Fourteen Teacups." Paddy was livid.
Val couldn't help suppress a grin and Bernie became fascinated with chasing her lemon around her replenished glass with her straw.
"Paddy she was bloody awful. She was chasing even the hardened drinkers away. Good luck to the Teacups. She has been responsible for closing down half the pubs in the district. That's why they call her Temperance."
"Well I am glad you think that way Val, because until further notice your night off is cancelled."
"I have a date this Tuesday, with Conrad."
Bernie and Paddy shared a quick look and a smile. It was very rare Val got past the second date stage.
"Well you will have to meet him here then."
Val scowled and Paddy left the bar in a huff with a very old beleaguered looking address book, determined to track down much needed help.
"That's too bad, Val," Bernie then added a little coyly, "So Conrad is still Mr Right Now?"
Val's face beamed, "Well, I like to think of him as Mr Right On."
Bernie blushed and swung her legs beneath her bar stool, but couldn't help chuckling along with Val. There was something about her friend that made her feel less self conscious than some other women around her own age.
"I hope Paddy finds someone quickly then," Bernie added genuinely.
"Ursula only covered Tuesdays and helped out at the weekends, she was hardly a workaholic," Val mused, "Vi can pull a pint and even old Evie doesn't mind keeping her hand in every now and then."
"Nice bit of extra work for someone trying to save up or add to their wages." Bernie chirped.
Val's eyes were wide as saucers, her tongue was between her teeth and she was nodding her head to a secret rhythm.
"Yes, nice little filler for someone with time on their hands and in need of extra cash."
"Yep," said Bernie innocently removing a lemon pip frustratingly lodged in her straw,
"Shouldn't be too difficult to find at all."
"When can you start?" pounced Val reaching for Bernie's wrist.
Bernie giggled until she read the look on Val's face, "Val, no, not me."
"Why not, you only work until five and during the week."
"I can be asked to cover for the evening and weekend carers occasionally," Bernie protested.
Val asked her when was the last time she had provided this cover and Bernie failed to answer the question with any conviction. Before Bernie had time to protest she found herself on the opposite side of the bar. Val was talking fast and pointing...till, tips, ID, real ale, electric pumps, premium, house, cash back.
"Val really l.."
"Think of the money, you don't want to live with Matron all your life. You could save up, get your name on the housing list for Appleby Thornton. You've already got a car."
"Val I might not even be staying in Poplar, the Mission emailed me the other day. I talk to them all the time."
"You are not going this week though are you? Look you are popular with the other punters, you are in here all the time anyway, you might as well get paid for it."
"Val, I really.."
"What's all this then?" Paddy had appeared through the door that led to the Turner flat.
"Bernie the Barmaid," Val chirped, "an answer to all our prayers."
"Absolutely," grinned Paddy
Bernie suddenly forgot how to argue.
Noon on Saturday, Bernie Mannion examined herself in the cheval mirror in Matron Crane's spare room. She wore a slightly above knee straight black skirt and a white long sleeve fitted blouse with 3 button cuffs. The blouse was slightly less fitted than it was designed to be, due to as Bernie always said God not being over generous dishing out boobs when it had been her turn.
Unfortunately her push-up bras were black and deep pink. Bernie pulled at the hem of the shirt, it would have to do. Paddy had told her it didn't matter for her first shift, but the Crown uniform was black skirt or trousers and a white shirt. Bernie had felt for a hint of irony in his voice but had found none. Even though Val was wearing a blue denim skirt and red T-shirt and he himself had on faded blue jeans and a pink shirt. She couldn't recall actually ever seeing Val in monochrome. Bernie bit her lip, had he been teasing her? Would he and Val collapse in floods of laughter when she walked into the pub.
It was too late to change, Bernie pushed her size 3 black stocking feet into her black ballerina pumps. Val had advised flats rather than heels until she had gotten used to being on her feet behind the bar all day. But that was just it, she didn't want to get used to being behind a bar all day. She would need to tell Paddy straight off that she would do this favour today, but really this wasn't ideal.
Paddy and Val were arguing about something as she walked in the door, so they didn't hear her let out the huge breath she had been storing. They looked up as she came towards the bar.
"Here is our girl," Paddy grinned, "and very smart too. Thank you for making the effort," he continued, glancing sharply at an unconcerned Val in a green shirt dress. "Val will show you where to put your things."
"Paddy there's something I need to explain," Bernie began.
Paddy was looking directly at her, like she was the first woman he had ever seen. He said nothing but moved his head slightly to one side in encouragement for her to speak. In an unconscious movement he flicked his unruly hair away from his eyes. Bernie faltered and then took a deep breath and continued,
"Do I need to wear my hair up?" Bernie groaned at herself deep inside.
Bernie lay on her bed, the duvet kicked to the bottom, her skin was hot and tingly, she had opened the bedroom window a crack to feel the cool night air on her limbs. She had exchanged her long sleeping T-shirt for a thin nylon nightie.
She smelt of 5 types of beer, 3 types of lager, 2 types of cider and 7 different spirits and Bold Black Cherries, Paddy's latest vape flavour. Her hair was matted with sweat. Her ears rang with the sound of 80's electronic pop and 60's rock 'n' roll. Her eyes were sore and itchy and relieved to have given up their lenses. Her feet throbbed. Her chest felt slightly tight and her breathing was faster than normal, her stomach was fluttering.
Bernie's head felt slightly on the light side and she was aware of the rhythm of her pulse.
Her parched lips were set in a smile. Her mind raced through the events of that day, her first day at the Crown, her first day as a barmaid, her first day working for Paddy, her first day spent almost entirely working with Paddy.
