By lunchtime my feet were sore, my arms ached, and I bloody loved it. “Blooming ‘eck, you picked a right morning to start, Alice. How you doing?” Janie, my fellow waitress and Betty’s daughter asked with a smile when I managed to grab a drink when the rush died down. “Tired, but I’m enjoying it.” Betty smiled as she slipped a Cornish pasty wrapped in paper, a slice of cake, and a bottle of cloudy lemonade into a brown paper bag and scribbled something on the front. I took a swig of my water and frowned. Noticing my curiosity, Betty enlightened me. “We deliver lunch to the local businesses.” “Oh, what a good idea.” She nodded and placed the eight brown bags into a basket. “They appreciate it and it earns us a little extra.” “Do you want to take the delivery?” Janie asked me. “It will give me a break and get you more familiar with the locals.” “Really?” I nodded eagerly. “That would be great.” “There’s the bike out back or you can take your car.
