STORM IN A COFFEE CUP? PART TWO

At five past six, we came out of Green Park tube. Youngest Sister looked around. "We'd better get a cab because we don't know how close it is,"she said decisively. "It's there!" exclaimed Middle Sister pointing to a big glitzy sign which proclaimed The Ritz. And there it was. Right next door! I have only lived near London for my whole life! Surely I should have known where The Ritz is in relation to Green Park tube station? I felt a flush of shame at not knowing my capital city better but excused myself by conceding how rarely I actually venture there. "Okay, forget the cab." said Youngest Sister. "We're over an hour early," I said. "Shall we find a coffee shop or something?" We walked past The Ritz and stood on the corner. "There's a Caffe Nero over there," I said. We crossed the road to the island and waited for some time for the traffic to clear so that we could get to Nero's. "There's a Pret A Manger over there," I said in a bored voice as another stream of vehicles streamed by, so we turned full circle, crossed back and went into Pret. "Two teas and two coffees, please, one black, one white," I said at the counter as I fished around in my purse for my Loyalty Card. "That's five pounds, please," said the server. I handed him the money and the loyalty card. He took the money but looked at the Loyalty card with suspicion. Oh yeah, I thought to myself, we're right next to the Ritz. Maybe they don't do loyalty cards here? "Don't you stamp the loyalty cards here?" I asked. He handed it back. "Not if they're Nero's, no," he replied. Damn! In the space of two minutes I had forgotten we'd abandoned Nero's and invaded Pret. "Of course you don't!" I said pleasantly as if he must get scatter-brains like me coming into Pret and offering a Nero loyalty card every day. He made a noise. I think it was a chuckle disguised as a cough and I picked up the tray and walked nonchalantly over to the table where Mother and Two Sisters were waiting.



We spent the next hour talking about nothing in particular (as us girls can!) and at quarter past seven we upped sticks and went to The Ritz. This was it! Our two hours as Ladies of Gentility were about to begin. We were shown in and swallowed whole by the cathedral-like foyer, all gilt walls, arches and spotless carpets. We made a bee-line for the Ladies. This was really living! Proper little individual hand-towels (none of your paper rubbish for this place!), wall to wall mirrors and a little sofa. Mother came out of her cubicle and washed and dried her hands. "There's hand-lotion in there,! I told her, indicating a bottle with a squeezy top. "I thought that was the was the soap," she said, towelling her hands even more vigorously.

We went back up to the main foyer and were approached by a man in a dinner jacket. "Name please?" he asked. Youngest Sister told him. "Do you have your voucher?" She handed him the pink slip that had been paid for by our sixteen to twenty-three year olds and he showed us to a table. It was SO nice! Very calm and relaxed with a grand-piano tinkling gently in the background and the little sandwiches, warm scones and itty-bitty pastries were wonderful. Mother dropped her table napkin on the floor and there was a moment of panic when we were asked to pay, but this was soon sorted out and we were each given another £15.00 glass of complimentary champagne by way of an apology. "It could only happen to us," Youngest Sister mused as the waiter bowed us out and I reached for my trusty portable fan.