A Table for Eight

Leila has arranged eight chairs round two tables before anyone else arrives. Today she and Otis will help serve lunch at the training café. Eight guests, one main dish, one pudding. She has drawn the plates in her notebook so she will remember where everything goes. Otis looks at the plan. “Where do we put the water?” Leila squeezes eight tiny glasses between the plates. “There. Easy.”

Mrs Reed checks the bookings with them. One guest needs room for a wheelchair, and another has asked about ingredients because of an allergy. Leila looks at her close-packed chairs. “I’ll move one.” “We’ll ask about the space when the guest arrives,” Mrs Reed says. “For now, leave a clear route.” Otis carries a chair away and moves a bag that someone has left beside the door.

The first guests arrive early. Mrs Reed deals with the ingredient question herself, checking the written information and speaking to the cook. Leila welcomes a man in a wheelchair and asks where he would prefer to sit. He chooses the end nearest the window. She moves a chair and checks that he has enough space. The notebook plan stays closed beneath the counter.

Then the eighth guest comes through the door with a friend. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I thought I’d booked for both of us.” Leila counts again. Nine people, eight places. Otis quietly suggests fetching another table, but the only spare one is wide. It would block the clear route they have just made. “Give me a moment to check,” Leila tells the guests, and goes to Mrs Reed.

There is enough food for nine, and the cook confirms the extra meal. Space is harder. Mrs Reed asks Leila and Otis to move the tables while the guests wait comfortably nearby. Turned lengthways, the tables leave more room beside the counter. They add a narrow spare chair at one end, then check the route again. It is clear. Leila takes a breath and invites everyone back.

Lunch begins well until Otis notices one plate sitting alone on the counter. “That’s the meal Mrs Reed checked,” he whispers. Leila has been waiting for it without explaining why to the table. She asks Mrs Reed to confirm the plate, then carries it over. The guest thanks her. “I was wondering if you’d forgotten.” “I should have told you it was coming separately,” Leila says.

For pudding, Leila asks Otis to check the order with her before they carry anything out. They match each plate to the kitchen list and take the confirmed servings to the table. Conversation has grown louder. The extra guest makes everyone laugh with a story about taking the wrong bus. Leila catches Otis smiling at her over a stack of clean plates. She smiles back, though her feet ache.

After lunch, Mrs Reed asks what they would change next time. Leila opens her notebook. “More room than the drawing,” she says. “And tell people when they’re waiting for something.” Otis adds a place to note changes beside the bookings. Mrs Reed writes down their suggestions. She also asks what went well. Leila thinks of the clear route, the checked meals and the ninth guest staying for lunch.

As they wipe the tables, Otis finds the original drawing. “Eight perfect little plates,” he says. Leila adds a ninth plate in the margin. Then she draws a big arrow where the clear route should be. “You’ve left out the water again.” She pushes the pencil towards him. Outside, the last two guests are still talking by the window. Inside, Otis carefully draws a jug big enough for everyone.