“Something with a rich palate, something that doesn't take like supermarket slop. But don't think for one moment that you can overcharge us, because we're not fools. Perhaps a decent malbec, if such a thing can be found in this establishment.”
“Absolutely,” Lisa replied, before turning to the husband, who seemed to be waiting meekly for permission to speak.
“He'll have the steak,” the woman added. “Medium-rare. He always has steak.”
“Steak, please,” the man mumbled. “Thank you.”
By the time she got back to the serving station thirty seconds later, having been subjected to several more snide comments, Lisa was just glad to get a moment's peace. She was only two hours into her first shift at the restaurant, and she'd barely had time to draw breath. As she entered table eight's order into the system, she felt someone nudging her shoulder.
“Told you,” Donna said as she slipped past on her way to the kitchen. “Total bitch.”
“I'm sure she's just having a bad day,” Lisa replied, watching as Donna headed through the door. Glancing back across the restaurant, however, she spotted the woman at table eight apparently chastising her daughter once again. For a moment, Lisa couldn't help but feel sorry for the little girl, but slowly she began to feel a creeping sensation at the edge of her vision, as if once again someone was trying to get her attention.
She turned and looked at the other tables, but at each of them the diners seemed to be getting along just fine. She continued to search the sea of faces, more certain than ever that someone somewhere was staring at her. The more she tried to tell herself that she was wrong, the more she felt the sensation growing, until she forced herself to turn away and carry on with the job of entering table eight's order. As she tried to focus on the terminal screen, however, she felt a ruffling sensation on the back of her neck, as if all the hairs were standing up.
Finally, unable to bear it a moment longer, she turned and looked across the restaurant again. Still no-one was looking at her, although after a few seconds she realized she'd been subconsciously avoiding looking at table nine. Swallowing hard, she turned to the table and looked at the empty chair, but of course there was still no sign of anyone. The curious sensation lingered, though, and she still felt as if someone somewhere in the room was definitely trying to attract her attention. It was almost as if...
Feeling a vibration in her pocket, she slipped her phone out and saw yet another message from her mother. Usually a very calm and reserved woman, her mother had seemed so panicky about Lisa's new job at the restaurant. Sighing, she began to type a quick reply, telling her to stop worrying.
“You stupid little monster!” the haughty woman suddenly yelled at her daughter, causing Lisa and everyone else in the restaurant to turn and look over at table eight. A fraction of a second later, there was the sound of the woman smacking her child's face. “What the hell have you done now?”
Three
“What is it?” Lisa asked, hurrying past the other tables until she reached table eight, where the little girl sat gently sobbing while her mother leaned down to look at the legs of the chairs. “What's wrong?”
Hearing the woman muttering something, Lisa crouched down and took a look under the table. After a moment, she spotted a puddle on the wooden floor, and then she saw some kind of liquid dribbling down the legs of the little girl's chair.
A moment later, she realized she could smell pee.
“Oh Jesus fucking Christ,” the woman sighed, her voice filled with venom as she leaned forward and held a hand up to hide her face from the other diners, who were gradually turning back to one another. “Elizabeth, what is wrong with you? We bring you to a semi-decent restaurant and you go and piss your pants? I thought you'd stopped all of that after you saw the fucking
“Absolutely,” Lisa replied, before turning to the husband, who seemed to be waiting meekly for permission to speak.
“He'll have the steak,” the woman added. “Medium-rare. He always has steak.”
“Steak, please,” the man mumbled. “Thank you.”
By the time she got back to the serving station thirty seconds later, having been subjected to several more snide comments, Lisa was just glad to get a moment's peace. She was only two hours into her first shift at the restaurant, and she'd barely had time to draw breath. As she entered table eight's order into the system, she felt someone nudging her shoulder.
“Told you,” Donna said as she slipped past on her way to the kitchen. “Total bitch.”
“I'm sure she's just having a bad day,” Lisa replied, watching as Donna headed through the door. Glancing back across the restaurant, however, she spotted the woman at table eight apparently chastising her daughter once again. For a moment, Lisa couldn't help but feel sorry for the little girl, but slowly she began to feel a creeping sensation at the edge of her vision, as if once again someone was trying to get her attention.
She turned and looked at the other tables, but at each of them the diners seemed to be getting along just fine. She continued to search the sea of faces, more certain than ever that someone somewhere was staring at her. The more she tried to tell herself that she was wrong, the more she felt the sensation growing, until she forced herself to turn away and carry on with the job of entering table eight's order. As she tried to focus on the terminal screen, however, she felt a ruffling sensation on the back of her neck, as if all the hairs were standing up.
Finally, unable to bear it a moment longer, she turned and looked across the restaurant again. Still no-one was looking at her, although after a few seconds she realized she'd been subconsciously avoiding looking at table nine. Swallowing hard, she turned to the table and looked at the empty chair, but of course there was still no sign of anyone. The curious sensation lingered, though, and she still felt as if someone somewhere in the room was definitely trying to attract her attention. It was almost as if...
Feeling a vibration in her pocket, she slipped her phone out and saw yet another message from her mother. Usually a very calm and reserved woman, her mother had seemed so panicky about Lisa's new job at the restaurant. Sighing, she began to type a quick reply, telling her to stop worrying.
“You stupid little monster!” the haughty woman suddenly yelled at her daughter, causing Lisa and everyone else in the restaurant to turn and look over at table eight. A fraction of a second later, there was the sound of the woman smacking her child's face. “What the hell have you done now?”
Three
“What is it?” Lisa asked, hurrying past the other tables until she reached table eight, where the little girl sat gently sobbing while her mother leaned down to look at the legs of the chairs. “What's wrong?”
Hearing the woman muttering something, Lisa crouched down and took a look under the table. After a moment, she spotted a puddle on the wooden floor, and then she saw some kind of liquid dribbling down the legs of the little girl's chair.
A moment later, she realized she could smell pee.
“Oh Jesus fucking Christ,” the woman sighed, her voice filled with venom as she leaned forward and held a hand up to hide her face from the other diners, who were gradually turning back to one another. “Elizabeth, what is wrong with you? We bring you to a semi-decent restaurant and you go and piss your pants? I thought you'd stopped all of that after you saw the fucking
Similar Books
