Scenes from a life past.....4

The canteen was a site to behold. It was a long room with windows on the one long side overlooking the front yard and the main road and on the opposite site looking out on to the dairy below. The shorter walls and the areas of wall under the windows were tiled in a sort of dirty turquoise colour. There was an orange tiled floor and red and black tables arranged around the walls with orange chairs up to them. I was fascinated to look through the windows on the dairy side and to see the milk bottles flying off the filling machines and into the crates. Lots of men and a few women all wearing dingy blue overalls were stationed along the conveyors and appeared to be just staring at the bottles. In the centre of the canteen on the road side was a servery with a kitchen behind. There seemed to be two sitting areas, one each end of the room.

I was still watching the amazing site below me when Dave asked “Do you want anything to eat or not?” and directed me up to the counter where two assistants stood holding long steel spoons over a several deep tubs of steaming food.

“Oh we knew you’d be first in today, always are when it’s curry.” I let Dave go first whilst I surveyed the options. I settled for sausage and chips and a cup of coffee. I reached into my handbag for my purse. Dave loaded his tray with a huge plate of curry and rice, two slices of bread and butter, apple pie and custard and a cup of coffee into which I noticed the server put a tablespoon of instant coffee and virtually no milk. I thought perhaps she didn’t like him much either. Dave advanced to the till, then turned back, fixed his eyes on my purse and asked “Could you pay for mine? I forgot to bring any money in today.”

I duly paid up and followed Dave to the left hand end of the room and sat at the first table we came to. By then other workers were drifting in, mostly men in either white or blue overalls tucked into Wellington boots and wearing little fabric caps. They all seemed to sit at the far end, the other side of the servery, as our end remained strangely empty. Dave tucked into his meal with relish almost lifting the plate so he could shovel the food in faster. He finished the curry in record time and wiped round his plate with the last of his bread. He took a deep draw on the coffee. “I wish they would make this stuff stronger,” he spat out, rising from the table, cup in hand and going back around to the counter.

I heard him ask for another cup, "and this time, make it strong."