• PART 3

    Everyday from then on went slower than the next as I waited in anticipation for mine and Patrick’s ‘date’. I had to keep telling myself that it was only three days now. Three days till I saw Patrick again. The only thing to distract me then and to make the time fly faster was work. Seeing the hot food waiting on the side, I picked it up and too it to the designated table, which consisted of, a bunch of work people in suites arguing quietly over something or other. I set the plates down and turned to leave, but no sooner than I had done so, I was called back.
    “Uh…waitress.” One of the suites said. I turned back, smearing on a smile.
    “Yes?”
    “This isn’t what I ordered.” He was frowning down at a plate of fish.
    “Oh,” I said quickly “I’m very sorry. May I ask what you did order?” The man’s frown deepened angrily. Oh dear, this was not going to go well.
    “You should know,” he said “you wrote the damn meal down. You know I could sue you if I wanted!” I tried to remain calm, which was one of the things we were taught. No matter how bad the customer gets, always remain calm.
    “I know.” I said “and I am very sorry. But if you could just tell me what your meal was, I will go and get it. Well even thrown in a free pudding of your choice.” There was a short pause, as I waited nervously.
    “I ordered the lasagne.” He finally grumbled.
    “I will go and get that for you.” I said, forcing on a smile and walking away as quickly as possible. It was obvious that he had had a bad day at work, but still, it did not help to take it out on other people.
    “Never coming back here again.” I heard him mutter as I walked away. Well, There goes another one. As I quickly made my way back to the kitchens, I met the eyes of both the head sheaf, and the manager staring at me with wide eyes. I stopped. “What?” I said slowly. I couldn’t of been about the customer. This happened now and then, it wasn’t such a big deal…was it? Suddenly grabbing my arm, the manager yanked me into the kitchens.
    “Do you know who that was?” he hissed. I stared at him for a moment, and then felt my stomach drop. “That was Mr P. Kelld, one of the biggest restaurant gourmet inspectors!” over his shoulder, I could see izzy, staring right back, fear in her eyes.
    “Kelld?” I gasped, “but he wasn’t expected till Thursday!”
    “Well I guess he came early.” The manager spat. “he has enough power to shut us down!”
    “I’m so sorry!” I whispered.
    “Yeah? Well sorry isn’t going to take back what you did. Now id like you to go home for the evening”
    “But-“
    “Go!” he barked. I looked at him for a long moment, then cast my eyes down. Mortifying. The silence in the kitchen now was foreboding. Flicking a glance towards Izzy as I went, I hung up my apron, picked up my bag and left immediately. I didn’t look at Kelled as I went, I didn’t want to see his face. Be it angry or happy.
    7:45 it was when I got home. I threw my bag on the floor
    “stupid.” I muttered. I walked into the living room and slumped onto the sofa. I lent my head back and closed my eyes. “Stupid.” I sighed. I sat there for a moment, not allowing myself to cry. So maybe id be out of a job, so what? I’d find another. The phone made me jump when it went of. Slowly opening my eyes, I looked over to the arm of the sofa, seeing the phone there. I picked it up. “Hello?” I said wearily.
    “Franky! Are you ok?” Izzy. Of course.
    “I’m alright. Hey, I’m going to have a night in. I’ll call you in the morning, yeah?”
    “Kay…” she muttered, downtrodden on. She then gasped, “You never told me how your party-thing went! Were there any cute g-“
    “In the morning.” I muttered, then put the phone down. I was tired. What I needed was a good film. Half an hour later, I had changed into comfy leggings and a jumped, had made myself something to eat, and was now sitting on the sofa, watching ‘some like it hot.’ I wasn’t sure what the relevancy of it was, but it was cheering me up. A low thump then distracted me from Jack Lemon and Tony Curtis, but I shrugged it off, assuming it to be next door, and chuckled at jack lemon being hit on by a guy.
    Two hours later, the film was begging to draw to a close. Something caught my ear: A creak, out in the hallway. The floorboard of my house were very creaky, but why-
    There came the creak again, but this time a different pitch. I sat up slowly, turning the volume of the TV down a little. There came the creak again, but this time, I was alarmed, because I knew exactly where the creak was. I had walked over that floorboard so many times and the resounding high-pitched creak never failed to choke out of it. I got up and made my way over to the door, and quietly as possible. Slowly, I stuck my head out, I looked from left to right. Nothing. I smiled. I was so neurotic sometimes. It was rediculace because- my head was turned the other way, but I felt a powerful fist slap down onto the curve between my neck and shoulder. I cried out and buckled, scrunching my eyes over the pain, breathing rapidly. I turned, my eyes blurry with tears, to run back into the living room, but I shouldn’t have done that, because I felt two hands grab mine from behind. I squeaked with fright.
    “Quiet down” the low voice hissed. defiantly a man’s. I tried to quieten, but my lips were shaking so much, it was hard to keep them shut and my shoulder was throbbing so manically that I wanted to curl up and sob. I glanced over to my living room window. through watery eyes I saw his reflection. He was big, his hulking body matched his low gruff voice “You’re a good waitress,” the man said, “You served me beautifully.” I froze, wondering weather it was the restaurant inspector. “Kelld?” I whispered. The man chuckled
    “No, but I saw him, the grumpy b*****d. No, I was someone insignificant, you didn’t seem to be paying very much attention when you took my order anyway.” He sighed. “Now then,” he said, getting to the point “I am going to have to hurt you,” I instinctively whimpered. “But I wont” he continued “if you tell me were the vault is.” I paused.
    “What vault?” I whispered.
    “Ah,” he said, “now that’s the type of stuff that’s going to hurt you. Now, I’m going to ask one more time.” He said the phrase slowly this time, as if explaining to a child. “Where is the vault?” I was panicking now
    “I…I don’t know what your talking about.” I stuttered. The man sighed
    “You wanna do it the hard way then? Alright.” Still with him holding my arms tightly behind my back, I felt a foot smash into my legs. I gasped and suddenly I was falling. My face smashed into the floor “Where. Is. The. Vault?” the man commanded. My face was on fire, tears were spilling out, and sobs were etching their way up my throat. What vault?!
    “I don’t-” something happened then. There was a loud smash of glass form somewhere, and I was suddenly scared that the guy had broken a glass and was going to use it against me, but nothing happened, he was silent. Then a loud thump sounded. I didn’t see what happened, but all I heard was a gasp, a yell, a couple of shouts and things being thrown about. There was a second silence then I suddenly felt someone land on top of me, knocking the wind form my lungs. The person rolled off and another loud thump resounded, making the floor shudder. Someone then rolled me over; my eyes were tightly shut. I heard someone whisper my name. Cautiously, I opened my eyes slightly, and saw the one thing that I least expected: my angel above me.