Chapter Twenty-Six
Hattie and Sandra sat at a side table in the kitchen.
Their heads were locked over a pile of cookery books, spread out on the stainless-steel surface, as two commis chefs busied about in the background, getting ready for the evening ahead.
Hattie flicked through the glossy pages and saw photos of Rick Stein racing around India in search of the perfect curry, while Sandra read up on Madhur Jaffrey’s rich dark dahls and fragrant kormas, selecting recipes that would be suitable for their Taste of the Raj night at Boomerville.
‘You’ll have to have a class on the morning of the event so the cookery students can produce one or two recipes,’ Hattie said. She licked her lips as she studied spiced fish and slow-cooked biryanis. ‘Let them think they’ve contributed to the meal.’
‘I hope environmental health aren’t due a visit.’ Sandra made notes in her kitchen diary. ‘The Mulberry brothers’ contribution could be a problem.’
‘No need to worry about that, I’ll sort it.’
Hattie had already decided that she’d ensure the students’ food never reached the restaurant tables. She’d package their offerings and tuck them into her freezer at home. ‘Just make sure you replicate what they make.’
‘The boss has agreed then?’ Sandra looked up.
‘Yes. We’ve settled on a date and you’ve not got long.’
‘When is it?’
‘Friday.’
‘Eh? But that’s only days away and there’s mountains of work to be done!’ Sandra’s face coloured and she thrust her notes to one side. ‘I’ll never manage all that.’
‘I’ve asked Biddu to help you.’
‘Biddu?’
‘Yes. He says he’s happy to get out of the restaurant for a bit. It will make a change for him and as long as Lucinda keeps well away, you’ll have Baltis and bhajis bouncing out of the pots before you’ve time to search for your sari.’
‘Well, I’m not sure about that.’
‘You’ll be writing your own curry cookery book soon.
’ Hattie closed her book and slid off the stool.
‘Let me have a menu, when you can.’ A tray of almond fingers, fresh from the oven, sat cooling on a side table.
Hattie reached out and popped two in her pocket.
‘Something to keep me going,’ she said. ‘See you later.’
‘Aye, be on your way, I’ve got dinner to get ready,’ Sandra grumbled as she piled the books to one side. ‘Just as long as you’re not naming the evening Biddu’s Boomerville Balti.’
Hattie ignored Sandra’s whinges and left the kitchen.
In the conservatory, several guests were relaxing after their classes.
They looked up from books and magazines and smiled as Hattie entered.
Outside, the light was fading and autumn sunshine bled into a rhubarb sunset as the day began to close.
Bunty was asleep in her basket, her tail thumping and nose and paws twitching as she dreamed of racing rabbits and muddy fields.
Lucinda reclined on a sofa beside Sir Henry, whilst Hugo sat opposite with a copy of The Times on his knee, folded back to reveal the crossword. Hattie joined the group and licked crumbs off her lips as she munched on Sandra’s baking.
‘I say, Hattie, here’s a clue for you,’ Hugo said, his pen poised. ‘Looks after a child while the parents are out. Five letters?’ Hugo grinned.
‘Nanny,’ Lucinda and Sir Henry chorused.
‘Exactly.’ Hugo winked at Hattie then filled in the clue.
‘That’s the only nanny you’ll be getting next to,’ Hattie said as she stared at Hugo and shook her head. She wondered if she should have picked up her rolling pin.
‘Don’t be such a spoilsport,’ Hugo said. ‘You and I could have some fun together.’
‘Have you had a nap?’ Hattie ignored Hugo and turned to Sir Henry. ‘I hope you haven’t been overdoing things today.’
‘No, my dear,’ Sir Henry said. ‘I’ve been in the capable hands of our lovely Lucinda.’ He looked fondly at his companion.
Hattie placed the last of the biscuit in her mouth and turned to look at Lucinda. As she stared at the woman beside Sir Henry, she almost spat it out.
Lucinda was unrecognisable.
Sporting a new hairstyle and with her slightly singed, uneven tresses slickly coiffured and swept back in a chignon, Lucinda looked positively sophisticated.
Her nails were neatly filed and painted pale pink and gone were the clanging bracelets and loosely flowing beads.
In their place hung a string of pearls that lay on the collar of a woollen twin-set.
Lucinda sat with her knees together and her ankles neatly crossed.
‘Are you cooking?’ Lucinda asked and smiled at Hattie.
‘No, just having a nibble.’ Hattie brushed at the sugar on her chin.
‘Got to keep your strength up,’ Lucinda replied. ‘You girls work so hard.’
‘I’d like a nibble too,’ Hugo said and looked hopefully at Hattie.
‘In your dreams.’ Hattie dismissed Hugo and took a last glance at Lucinda, who gave a little wave, then turned to leave the conservatory.
‘See you later,’ Lucinda called out.
Hattie ran into the restaurant and, ignoring staff who were preparing for the evening, slipped through the door to Jo’s house.
Jo and Pete sat at the table enjoying a cup of tea.
‘Have you seen Lucinda?’ Hattie gasped.
‘What’s she up to now?’
‘She’s done up like a dog’s dinner. I hardly recognised her.’
‘Is she going out?’
‘No further than Sir Henry’s room, I shouldn’t wonder.’ Hattie put her hands on her hips and shook her head. ‘I think she’s making a serious play for the old boy. I hardly recognised her. She’s dressed like a reincarnated Lady Mulberry.’
‘Lady Lucinda.’ Pete chuckled. ‘You missed your chance.’
‘There’s still Hugo,’ Jo teased.
‘Oh, bog-off, the pair of you.’
‘Andy and Kate, Henry and Lucinda, Hattie and Hugo!’ Jo said. ‘We could have a triple wedding. What an advert for Boomerville that would be.’
‘Aye, I told you it would become nowt more than a knocking shop, never mind your high-brow classes and culture.’ Hattie was miffed. ‘Don’t count on any weddings; it will all fall apart, mark my words.’
Pete joined in with the teasing and Bunty, having woken and followed Hattie, appeared and began to bark.
‘The damn mutt is following me . . .’ Hattie cursed and closed the door.
‘Shush, quiet,’ Jo said. She tilted her head to one side and frowned as she reached down to silence her dog. ‘What’s the matter little one?’ She scooped Bunty onto her lap.
‘What’s that noise?’ Pete said and Hattie and Jo stopped talking to listen too.
They could hear a man wailing.
The door flew open and everyone stared at the figure who stumbled into the room. With a towel gripped around his waist and prayer beads bouncing off his naked torso, Bob hurled himself towards Jo.
‘Sweetie, something terrible has happened!’ Bob cried.
‘It’s all right, calm down.’ Jo placed Bunty on the floor and rushed over to Bob.
‘What on earth have you been up to?’ Hattie asked and grabbed the towel, which had slipped from Bob’s body and threatened to expose what little was left unseen.
‘My bath has overflowed and I think the ceiling is about to come down in the Green Room!’
‘I’m on it,’ Pete yelled and ran from the room.
‘I was meditating and fell asleep. I forgot the tap was running,’ Bob sobbed.
‘Nothing we can’t fix,’ Jo soothed. ‘Hattie, could you get a robe for Bob?’
‘Aye, I’ll magic up a builder too.’
As Hattie stomped up the stairs, she glanced back.
Jo had guided Bob to her rocking chair and Bunty was licking his wet feet.
Hattie sighed. ‘Bonkers,’ she said to herself. ‘Boomerville bonkers, the lot of them!’