Only Time Will Tell (The Clifton Chronicles, #1)(42)

As the weeks passed, these morning coffee breaks became something of a ritual. Even so, Maisie couldn’t have been more surprised when Bob asked her out on a date, as she considered theirs to be a professional relationship. He had bought tickets for Glamorous Night, a new musical that was playing at the Hippodrome, which Maisie had hoped Patrick might take her to. She thanked Bob, but said she didn’t want to spoil their relationship. She would have liked to add that there were already two men in her life, a fifteen-year-old who was worrying about his acne, and an Irishman who only visited Bristol once a month and didn’t seem to realize she was in love with him.

Bob didn’t take no for an answer, and a month later Maisie was even more embarrassed when he presented her with a marcasite brooch. She kissed him on the cheek, and wondered how he’d found out it was her birthday. That evening she placed the brooch in a drawer, and might have forgotten all about it if other gifts hadn’t followed at regular intervals.

Patrick seemed amused by his rival’s persistence, and over dinner one night he reminded Maisie that she was a good-looking woman with prospects.

Maisie didn’t laugh. ‘It’s got to stop,’ she said.

‘Then why don’t you find another supplier?’

‘Because good ones are a lot harder to find than lovers. In any case, Bob’s reliable, his cakes are the best in town and his prices are lower than any of his competitors.’

‘And he’s in love with you,’ said Patrick.

‘Don’t tease, Patrick. It’s got to stop.’

‘I’ll tell you something far more important that’s got to stop,’ said Patrick, bending down and opening his briefcase.

‘May I remind you,’ said Maisie, ‘that we’re meant to be having a romantic candlelit dinner together, not talking business.’

‘I’m afraid this can’t wait,’ he said, placing a sheaf of papers on the table. ‘These are your accounts for the past three months, and they don’t make happy reading.’

‘But I thought you said things have been looking up.’

‘So they have. You’ve even managed to keep your outgoings within the limit recommended by the bank, but, inexplicably, your income has dropped during the same period.’

‘How’s that possible?’ said Maisie. ‘We did a record number of covers last month.’

‘That’s why I decided to check carefully through all your bills and receipts for the past month. They just don’t add up. I’ve come to the sad conclusion, Maisie, that one of your waitresses must have her hand in the till. It’s common enough in the catering trade; it usually turns out to be the barman or the head waiter but once it starts, there’s no way of stopping it until you find the person responsible and sack them. If you don’t identify the culprit fairly soon, you’re going to have another year without showing a profit, and you won’t be able to pay back one penny of the bank loan, let alone start reducing your overdraft.’

‘What do you advise?’

‘You’ll have to keep a closer eye on all your staff in future, until one of them gives herself away.’

‘How will I know which one it is?’

‘There are several signs to look out for,’ said Patrick. ‘Someone who’s living beyond their means, perhaps wearing a new coat or an expensive piece of jewellery, or taking a holiday they wouldn’t normally be able to afford. She’ll probably tell you she’s got a new boyfriend, but—’

‘Oh, hell,’ said Maisie. ‘I think I know who it might be.’

‘Who?’

‘Karen. She’s only been with me a few months, and recently she’s been going up to London on her weekends off. Last Monday she turned up at work wearing a new scarf and a pair of leather gloves that made me feel quite envious.’

‘Don’t jump to any conclusions,’ said Patrick, ‘but keep a close eye on her. Either she’s pocketing the tips or she’s got her hands in the till, or both. And one thing I can promise you, it won’t stop. In most cases the thief becomes more and more confident until they’re finally caught. You need to stop it, and stop it quickly, before she puts you out of business.’





Maisie hated having to spy on her staff. After all, she’d chosen most of the younger ones herself, while the older ones had been at Tilly’s for years.

She kept an especially close eye on Karen, but there weren’t any obvious signs that she was stealing. But then, as Patrick had warned her, thieves are more cunning than honest people, and there was no way Maisie could keep an eye on her all the time.

And then the problem solved itself. Karen handed in her notice, announcing that she was engaged and would be joining her fiance in London at the end of the month. Maisie thought her engagement ring was quite exquisite, although she could only wonder who’d paid for it. But she dismissed the thought, relieved she would now have one less problem to worry about.

But when Patrick returned to Bristol a few weeks later, he warned Maisie that her monthly income had dropped again, so it couldn’t have been Karen.

‘Is it time to call in the police?’ Maisie asked.

‘Not yet. The last thing you need are any false accusations or rumours that will only cause ill-feeling among your staff. The police may well flush out the thief, but before they do you could lose some of your best staff, who won’t like being under suspicion. And you can also be sure that some of the customers will find out, and you don’t need that.’