Only Time Will Tell (The Clifton Chronicles 1)

'Pace yourself,' Patrick warned her on one of his monthly visits. 'Remember that it's far easier to spend money than to earn it, and don't be surprised if a few of the old biddies disappear and you don't make quite as much as you'd anticipated in the first few months.'

Patrick turned out to be right. The number of covers dropped in the first month, and then again in the second, proving just how popular Miss Tilly had been. Had they fallen again in the third, Patrick would have been advising Maisie about cash flow and overdraft limits, but it bottomed - another of Patrick's expressions - and even began to climb the following month, though not sharply.

At the end of her first year, Maisie had broken even, but she hadn't made enough to pay back any of the bank's loan.

'Don't fret, my dear,' Miss Tilly told her on one of her rare visits to Bristol. 'It was years before I made a profit.' Maisie didn't have years.

The second year began well, with some of her regulars from the Palm Court returning to their old stamping ground. Eddie Atkins had put on so much weight, and his cigars were so much larger, that Maisie could only assume the entertainment business was thriving. Mr Craddick appeared at eleven o'clock every morning, dressed in a raincoat, umbrella in hand, whatever the weather. Mr Holcombe dropped in from time to time, always wanting updates on how Harry was getting on, and she never allowed him to pay the bill. Patrick's first stop whenever he returned to Bristol was always Tilly's.

During her second year, Maisie had to replace one supplier who didn't seem to know the difference between fresh and stale, and one waitress who wasn't convinced that the customer was always right. Several young women applied for the job, as it was becoming more acceptable for women to go to work. Maisie settled on a young lady called Karen, who had a mop of curly fair hair, big blue eyes and what the fashion magazines were describing as an hourglass figure. Maisie had a feeling that Karen might attract some new customers who were a little younger than most of her regulars.

Selecting a new cake supplier proved a more difficult task. And although several companies tendered for the contract, Maisie was very demanding. However, when Bob Burrows of Burrows' Bakery (founded 1935) turned up on her doorstep and told her that Tilly's would be his first customer, she put him on a month's trial.

Bob turned out to be hard-working and reliable, and even more important, his goods were always so fresh and tempting that her customers would often say, 'Well, perhaps just one more.' His cream buns and fruit scones were particularly popular, but it was his chocolate brownies, the new fad, that seemed to disappear from the cakestand long before midday. Although Maisie regularly pressed him, Bob kept telling her that he just couldn't make any more.

One morning, after Bob had dropped off his wares, Maisie thought he looked a little forlorn, so she sat him down and poured him a cup of coffee. He confessed to her that he was suffering from the same cash-flow problems she'd experienced in her first year. But he was confident things would soon look up as he'd recently been taken on by two new shops, although he stressed how much he owed to Maisie for giving him his first break.

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.