Farewell To The East End

well as being a tease, frequently showed a protective instinct towards us girls. He rattled the rake in the flue.
    I still wasn’t satisfied that Trixie was right about Fred’s story being a trick. I had been puzzling about it on and off all day, and now that Fred was here I wanted to get to the bottom of it.
    ‘Look here, Fred. Let’s get this straight. Three men went into a restaurant. Right?’
    ‘Right.’
    ‘And they bought a meal costing thirty shillings?’
    ‘Straight up.’
    ‘So they paid ten shillings each. Correct?’
    ‘You’re a smart one, you are.’
    I ignored the sarcasm.
    ‘And the waiter took the thirty shillings to the cashier – yes?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘… who said the men had been overcharged. The bill should have been twenty-five shillings. Have I got it?’
    ‘You ’ave. Wha’ ’appened next?’
    ‘The cashier gave five shillings change to the waiter.’
    ‘No flies on you, eh? Musta been top of ve class a’ school.’
    ‘Oh, give over. The waiter thought, “The customers won’t know,” so he trousered two shillings and gave the men three shillings.’
    ‘Naugh’y naugh’y. We all done it, we ’as.’
    ‘Speak for yourself.’
    ‘Ooh, ’ark at ’er. Miss ’oity-toity.’
    Trixie intervened.
    ‘That’s where I don’t get it. Each man took a shilling change, so that means each one had paid nine shillings instead of ten.’
    We all chorused, ‘And three nines are twenty-seven plus two in the waiter’s pocket makes twenty-nine. So what happened to the other shilling?’
    We all looked at each other blankly. Fred carried on raking and shovelling and whistling his tuneless whistle.
    ‘Well, what happened to it, Fred?’ shouted Trixie.
    ‘Search me,’ said Fred, ‘I ain’t got it, copper.’
    ‘Don’t be silly’ – Trixie was getting irritated again – ‘You’ve got to tell us.’
    ‘You work i’ ou’,’ said Fred provocatively as he gathered up his ash bucket. ‘I’m goin’ to empty vis, and you three smart girls’ll ’ave an answer ’afore I gets back.’
    Novice Ruth and Sister Bernadette entered at that moment.
    ‘An answer to what, Fred?’
    ‘Vem girls’ll tell yer. They’re workin’ it ou’.’
    While the Sisters attended to their supper, we told them the conundrum. Novice Ruth was a thoughtful girl, and she paused, knife in hand. ‘But that’s crazy,’ she said, ‘it doesn’t work. Where’s Cynthia, by the way?’
    ‘She’s not in yet.’
    ‘Well she should be by now, if she had only her evening visits to do.’
    ‘She must have been delayed.’
    ‘I suppose so. This is delicious bread. Mrs B does have a magic touch when it comes to bread. The secret’s in the kneading, I think. Knowing just when to stop.’
    Trixie had got out pencil and paper.
    ‘We’ve got to work this out. A shilling can’t vanish.’
    She started writing down figures, but it got her nowhere, and she began to get cross again. Then she had a bright idea. ‘Let’s use matches instead of shillings.’ She took the box from the gas stove and emptied it out. ‘We three will be the three men, and Novice Ruth can be the dishonest waiter, and you, Sister Bernadette, can be the cashier.’
    She pushed a pile of matches towards Chummy and me.
    ‘Now you, Novice Ruth, you’re the waiter – put a tea towel over your arm. Come up to us with the bill, that bit of paper will do, and ask us for thirty shillings.’
    Novice Ruth joined in with the spirit of things. We each counted out ten matches and gave them to her, and she collected them up.
    Sister Bernadette had made herself a sandwich and was watching us quizzically.
    ‘Now you’re the cashier, Sister. Go and sit over there.’
    Sister Bernadette gave Trixie an old-fashioned look and moved her chair to the end of the table.
    ‘No. That’s not far enough – go and sit by the sink.’
    Sister picked up her sandwich and moved her chair to the sink.
    ‘Now,’ said the stage director, ‘waiter, you must take the bill and the money to the cashier.’
    The waiter did as she was told.
    ‘Cashier, you must add up the bill and find it is wrong, and say to the waiter … go on, say it …’
    Sister Bernadette said, ‘This is wrong. The bill comes to twenty-five shillings, not thirty. Here is five shillings change. Give it to the men,’ and she handed five matches to Novice Ruth.
    ‘Good,’ said the director condescendingly, ‘very good.’
    Trixie turned to Novice Ruth.
    ‘Now what do you do,