Honeysett silenced her attempts to stammer out apologies. In dread, he asked her: ‘Something you’ve eaten, Anna? Have you been tasting any of the dishes out there?’
Emphatically she shook her head. ‘No! Only that red caviar you told me to check on before we served it. It was still fine — honest, Mr H. Haven’t touched anything else. It’s nothing serious. It’s just the time of the month.’
‘Month? Month? What are you on about? What have you got against September? I’m getting a bit fed up with this.’
Catching his blank expression, Anna explained further: ‘No, not that. Women’s problems, Mr H. Bit early, though … must be all the excitement …’ She bent double again and began to retch.
‘Gets my sister the same way,’ Antonio supplied. ‘Sick as a cow, regular as clockwork.’
‘Antonio, get back out there and fill the gap. Pull Alec forward.’
‘Sir, I already have, sir.’
Honeysett acted swiftly. ‘Home, Anna. At once. Here’s half a crown for a taxi. Come back when you’re feeling better.’
He sighed as he helped her into her coat and off the premises. Female staff! They came cheaper than men but they had their drawbacks. Honeysett shuddered. Really, there was no place for them working in public view. Better kept behind the scenes. How was a bloke expected to allow for times of the month? Get them to fill in a calendar? Bloody women! More temperamental than the bloody oysters!
Cyril had responded at once to Honeysett’s lifted finger. He approached quietly and took his shot without warning before the party at the table was aware of what he was about to do and could begin to strike a fish-eyed pose. He liked to produce a natural effect. He exchanged a glare with Sandilands, who had ruined the photograph by turning away at the last moment.