Apparently Fennel had allowed them to turn the radio up in the kitchen. Hans shook his head at the distant thumping and threw himself into the chair opposite Bart.

‘So, you and my sister huh.’

Bart looked confused. ‘It’s been two years, Hans.’

‘Yeah well. There you go then.’ Hans sighed. This small talk business wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Where the fuck was Fennel and that cognac?

Solway nudged him with an elbow. ‘So, about the tiny person.’

‘Don’t start.’

‘She’s very cute.’

‘She’s Canerican.’

‘A what now?’ She turned to Bart. ‘Do you know what that is?’

Bart shrugged. He looked confused. Excellent.

‘We can’t quite pick the accent,’ said Hans. He smiled.

Solway grimaced at him. ‘Enlighten me, stupid.’

Hans growled. ‘I made it up, okay? Which proves I’m not stupid, just so ya know. Bloody hell, Sol, can you give me a bloody break?’

‘So…? What does it meeeeeeean?’

‘Canadian or American, or something.’ Hans sighed dramatically. Why the hell did she not get the joke?

‘Couldn’t you tell from her resume? Or a passport? Or something? Won’t she need to fill out paperwork?’

‘I don’t do that stuff.’ He waved a hand airily.

‘Then who hired her?’

‘I did.’

She gave an exasperated sounding noise that reminded him of a kettle boiling. ‘Did anyone look at her resume?’

‘Ah Fennel!” Hans grinned and leapt up to grab the bottle from the weary chef’s hand. ‘Just in time. Did you bring glasses?’

Fennel sighed. ‘No, I didn’t. I’ll get some now.’

‘Never mind, I’ll do it. Back in a tick.’ Hans left as quickly as he could.

‘You are not getting away with this you bloody coward,’ Solway called after him.

Hans looked down at his swiftly moving feet. ‘Looks like I am though,’ he muttered under his breath.

He decided he’d give the glasses an extra polish while he was there. With a bit of luck. Fennel would be answering all of Solway’s questions right about now, and when he got back to the table they could finish the cognac.

Gretal was still folding the tablecloths.

‘I thought you were sitting with your friends,’ she said.

‘I am.’ He smiled. ‘I was merely escaping for a short moment because my sister was asking me questions I couldn’t answer.’

‘That’s your sister? Oh that makes sense.’ Gretal looked over at the table. ‘She’s very pretty.’

‘Thanks. She’s very clever too, which I tend to forget at the most inopportune moments.’ He sighed.

‘I think we’ve all got a brother or sister like that.’ Gretal grinned at him. ‘Sorry. Was that too personal?’

‘That’s alright. I think we can relax the rules for one night. I’m very proud of my sister, so moments like these are very special to me.’ He grabbed a couple of glasses and cleared his throat. ‘It’s probably good if the staff know who my family are anyway. It stops the rumours from flying.’

The waiter blushed. ‘I might have something to apologise about.’

Hans shot her a sidelong glance. ‘You might have, yes. I’ll let it go this time. I will say one thing before you explain it to your friends in the kitchen.’ He winked. ‘This is the reason we don’t talk about personal things. It’s a perfect example, don’t you think?’

She frowned slightly. ‘I suppose… but, if we’d known, wouldn’t that have prevented it from happening in the first place?’

‘Are you making excuses?’

‘No, but…’

‘Lesson one.’ Hans smiled. ‘Be discreet. It’s part of our job, okay? When you’re at work, don’t discuss the customers, don’t speculate about them, don’t stare at them — especially when they can see you. It’s none of your business. We are just here to make things go smoothly, and give them the best dining experience. That’s our job and our reputation. I can’t stress this enough.’

‘Okay. But…’

‘I understand what you’re thinking and believe me, if I think my staff knowing something about someone they’re serving is going to make it better for the person they’re serving, then I would absolutely let you all know. Okay?’

‘Okay. I suppose things could go badly if the wrong information about someone got out.’

‘Things could go wrong if the right information got out too,’ Hans said softly. ‘Not only have I experienced it personally, I’ve seen it with other people. So has my sister. I wouldn’t want the same thing happening to you. So… Me having faith in you guys to be professional while they’re here is something I don’t want to regret. Alright?’

‘Got it.’ Gretal folded the last of the tablecloths. ‘I’ll be right back.’

Hans smirked and shook his head. ‘No problem. I’m going to give you a few minutes to talk to the guys in the kitchen. After that, I’m coming in and we’re going to talk about the next most important thing.’

Gretal gave him a wide-eyed stare. ‘Is it bad?’

‘No. But it’s in your best interest, and the best interest of the people you are working with. Off you go.’

He gave her five minutes. It was more than enough time. Going into the kitchen was like entering a warzone of words.

‘Nobody tells me anything,’ Shane was squeaking as he walked in. ‘I should have known!’

‘I beg your pardon,’ Hans asked.

‘Oh.’ At least she looked a little contrite. It didn’t last long. ‘If you’d just told me…’ she said.

‘If I’d just told you what?’ This sounded interesting. Why had she decided it was her business?

‘Never mind.’ She began filling a mop bucket with water, effectively cutting off any further conversation.

Hans realised at that point how many deep breaths he’d taken in the last half an hour. He decided he wouldn’t start counting them because he’d probably give himself a nervous tic. Shaking his head he stepped over to the sink and turned off the tap. She glared at him and turned it back on.

‘Don’t,’ he said softly. This lady was really pushing his buttons.

She froze. Hallelujah. The bloody woman was listening for a change. Let’s see how long that lasts, he thought to himself.

‘I’m assuming Gretal has updated you all on my “current relationship”,’ he announced to the world in general.

Gretal snorted. He tried not to roll his eyes.

‘I’ll take that as a yes. Right, next thing. You already know this,’ he added to the sous chef and Gretal. ‘But I’ll repeat it for Shane’s sake.’

‘Shianne,’ said Shane, and Gretal snorted again.

Bloody hell, thought Hans. Have I walked into a piggery? ‘Anyway,’ he continued. ‘This is for all of you, and especially you Shane, if you are going to continue working with us.’

She opened her mouth and he held up a warning finger.

‘Can you just not talk for a few minutes.’

The sous chef started making a weird cackling sound. Okay, not a piggery. More of a farmyard. She sounded like a bloody chicken.

‘As you may have noticed,’ he said to Shane. ‘People in the hospitality industry are slightly insane. In a good way,’ he added hurriedly as she began to frown. ‘Anyway, I’d like to get to my point if you could all control yourselves. Please.’

That shut them all up, for a moment at least. ‘I’m going to say this really quickly before you all turn into raving lunatics. If you guys ever have a problem with any other staff members, or with one of our patrons behaving inappropriately or rudely towards yourselves, please let me or your immediate superior know know as soon as you can. This is really important, okay? If you can sort it out yourselves, then great. As long as no one draws blood I’m happy. I’m joking. I do mean this though because you all have the right to feel safe in your work environment, and if you don’t for any reason then we should be hearing about it. It does not mean…,’ He glared at Shane. ‘… that you should be complaining because someone looked at you the wrong way or has told you off for not doing your job, okay?’

She didn’t say anything, which was probably quite fortunate.

‘Good. Now you can all be idiots together. I’m going to spend time with my sister. Bye.’

Hans straightened his collar, smoothed back his hair, and left the kitchen. On the walk down the hall he checked himself in the mirror. Perfect. The radio in the kitchen sounded like it had been turned up yet another notch, probably due to the rain on the roof, and someone decided to start singing loudly and off-key.

Hopefully it would be a good ending to a bad afternoon. Hans put his hands in his pockets and crossed his eyes. The more interactions he had with the staff around here, the more obvious it had become he needed to get the restaurant manager’s position filled. He snatched up the polished glasses on the way back through to the dining room and deposited them next to Fennel.

‘Is Shane’s resume and information still in the office?’

‘It’s Shee-ann,’ said Fennel. Clearly he’d been trained by the crazy woman in the kitchen on how to say her name. ‘Yes, I left it in the top drawer. Is something bothering you?’

‘Quite a lot is bothering me,’ Hans replied. ‘You’re right, Sol,’ he said patting his sister’s shoulder as he passed her. ‘Something is definitely going on and I don’t think it’s what you think it is.’

Solway put down her fork and gave him a concerned look. ‘Is she one of those?’

‘Let me get that information first and then we’ll decide.’ He turned back to the chef. ‘Fennel, I’ll definitely need that drink.’

Fennel had already taken off the lid. ‘I’m on it.’

to be continued…