Betty Neels - A Gentle Awakening

‘Hello,’ he said. ‘Every time I see you, you’re slaving over a hot stove.’

She couldn’t prevent her delight at seeing him showing on her face, although she didn’t know that. ‘I’m the cook, sir,’ she reminded him.

‘Yes—I seem to have difficulty in remembering that.’ He smiled at her and called over his shoulder, ‘Wanda, come and meet Florina.’

Miss Fortesque strolled in and linked an arm in his. ‘Oh, hello. You’re the cook?’

The air positively hummed with their mutual dislike, instantly recognized, even if silent. Sir William watched them from half-shut lids.

‘Florina is our treasure—she cooks like a dream, and Pauline considers her to be her best friend.’

Wanda opened large blue eyes. ‘Oh, the poor child, has she no friends of her own sort?’ She made a small gesture. ‘Is it wise to let her live here, William? At a good boarding-school she would make friends with all the right children.’

‘Who are the right children?’ he asked carelessly. ‘Don’t be a snob, Wanda. Pauline is happy; she’ll be going to day school in Wilton in September, and there’s plenty to occupy her here meantime.’ He glanced at Florina. ‘Does she bother you, Florina?’

‘Not in the least, Sir William. She is learning to cook and she spends a great deal of time gardening. She and Mrs Frobisher go for long walks.’

Miss Fortesque turned on her heel. ‘Oh, well, if you’re quite content to leave her with the servants…’ She smiled bewitchingly, ‘I shall alter all that, of course. When are the others arriving?’

Florina was left to seethe over the Aga. The horrible girl was quite unsuitable to be Sir William’s wife, and she would be a disastrous stepmother. If Sir William was as easy-going as he appeared to be, then Pauline would find herself at a boarding-school, and she and Nanny would be out of jobs. Not too bad for Nanny, for she had already officially retired, but it would mean finding work for herself, and away from home, too.

Despite her rage, she served up a lunch which was perfection itself, and shared a quick meal with Nanny. When Sir William, with his fiancée and Pauline, had driven off for a brief tour of the surrounding country, Florina arranged the tea tray and then got down to preparing dinner. The house was quiet: Mrs Frobisher had gone to put her feet up before tea, Mrs Deakin was doing the last of the washing up and Florina concentrated on her cooking. By the time she heard the car stop by the house, she was satisfied that there was nothing more to do for an hour or so.

Two other cars arrived then, and Mrs Frobisher, much refreshed by the nap, carried in the tea tray and the assortment of cakes and sandwiches Florina had got ready, before she came back to share a pot of tea with Florina.

The kitchen was warm; she opened the windows wide and sat down gratefully, listening to Mrs Frobisher describing Sir William’s guests. Rather nice, she was told, and had known him for years—doctors and their wives, rather older than he was.

‘And, of course, Miss Fortesque,’ added Nanny, and she sounded as though she had inadvertently sucked on a lemon. ‘A well preserved woman, one might say, but of course she spends a great deal of time and money upon herself.’

Obviously Nanny didn’t approve of Sir William’s Wanda, but Florina didn’t dare to say so; she murmured vaguely and her companion went on, ‘Had her claws into him for months. I’m surprised at him—she’ll be a bad wife for him and a worse stepmother for my little Pauline.’ She passed her cup for more tea. ‘He’s so busy with all those sick children, he only sees her when she’s dressed up and all charm and prettiness. Of course, that’s very nice for the gentlemen when they’ve had a hard day’s work, but when all’s said and done they want a wife as well, someone who’ll sit on the opposite side of the fireplace and knit while he reads the papers, listen when he wants to talk, and love his children.’ Nanny snorted. ‘All she likes to do is dance and play bridge.’

‘Perhaps she’ll change,’ suggested Florina gently, not quite sure if she should voice an opinion. Nanny was obviously labouring under strong feelings, and possibly she would regret her outburst later on.

‘You’re a good girl,’ said Nanny, ‘I’ve wanted to say all that to someone for weeks, and you’re the only person I’ve felt I could talk to.’

To Florina’s distress, Mrs Frobisher’s eyes filled with tears. ‘I had him as a baby,’ she said.

‘They’re not married yet,’ ventured Florina. She added, very thoughtfully, ‘It just needs someone to give fate a push and change things…’

Mrs Frobisher blew her nose, an awesome sound. ‘You’re a sensible girl as well as a good one, Florina.’

Florina dished up a splendid dinner: artichoke hearts with a sharp dressing of her own invention, lobster cardinal, medallions of beef with a wine sauce and truffles, and tiny pancakes filled with strawberries and smothered in thick cream.

When the coffee tray had gone in, she and Nanny sat down to eat what was left, before Nanny went away to see Pauline into bed. Mrs Deakin had come back to help with the clearing up, but all the same the evening was far gone, and Sir William seeing his guests on their way, by the time they were finished in the kitchen. Florina set everything ready for the morning, changed into her dress and, with Mrs Deakin for company, locked the kitchen door after her and started for home.

They were at the gate when Sir William loomed out from the shrubs alongside the short drive. ‘A delightful meal, Florina! My compliments, and thank you, and Mrs Deakin, for working late.’

Mrs Deakin muttered happily; she was being paid overtime, and generously, for any work she did over and above her normal hours. Florina said quietly, ‘Thank you, Sir William. Goodnight.’

He would go into his lovely house presently, she supposed, and Wanda would be waiting for him. Florina had caught a glimpse of her during the evening—a vision in scarlet chiffon. Enough to turn any man’s head, even that of the placid, good-natured Sir William.

She was making a salad the next day when Miss Fortesque, in a startling blue jersey dress and a great many gold bangles, strolled into the kitchen.

‘Hello, Cook, busy among your saucepans again? It’s really surprising that even in the depths of the country it’s possible to find someone who can turn out a decent meal.’ She smiled sweetly. ‘After town standards, you know, one hardly expects it.’

Florina shredded lettuce with hands which shook very slightly with temper, and said nothing.

‘That sauce last night,’ continued her visitor, ‘I fancied that there was a touch too much garlic in it. Sir William didn’t complain—he’s really too easy-going…’

‘When Sir William complains to me, Miss Fortesque, I shall listen to him,’ said Florina very evenly.

Wanda’s eyes opened wide. ‘Don’t you dare to speak to me like that, Cook! I’ll have you dismissed…’ She advanced, rather unwisely, too close to Florina, who had started to whip up a dressing for the salad. She increased her beating with a vigour which sent oily drops in all directions. The blue dress would never be the same again; a shower of little blobs had made a graceful pattern down its front.

Wanda’s breath was a hiss of fury. ‘You clumsy fool—look what you’ve done! It’s ruined—I’ll have to have a new dress, and I’ll see that it’s stopped out of your wages! I’ll…’

Sir William’s voice, very placid, cut her short. ‘My dear Wanda, if you hadn’t been standing so close, it wouldn’t have happened. You can’t blame Florina, you’ve only yourself to thank. Surely you know that cooks must be left in peace in their kitchens when they are cooking?’