English Trifle

by Josi S. Kilpack

  Sadie grabbed Breanna’s watch after the first beep—she’d moved it to her bedside table after Breanna had fallen asleep. After pushing buttons until it shut up, she got out of bed and slid the note she’d written in the bathroom last night from underneath her notebook. She didn’t want Breanna to worry when she woke up and found her mother gone.

  Sadie padded across the floor to the chair where she’d laid out her clothing for the day—her favorite Gap curvy jeans—a must for her voluptuous hips—and a black T-shirt with “Rock Star” written across it in rhinestones. Her friend Gayle had bought the same shirt and they loved wearing them out in public together and making people stare. Though Sadie wouldn’t call herself old, and she certainly didn’t think she looked like she was closer to sixty than fifty, it still confused people to see a mature woman dressed in silly clothes. Lastly, she slid her feet into her orange Crocs.

  Mrs. Land and Lacy had worn a black uniform similar to hospital scrubs, but of course Sadie didn’t have anything like that so she’d gotten as close as she could. She picked up the clothes and tiptoed to the bathroom where she took a quick shower. After drying off, she added a little gel to her hair and attacked it with the blow dryer, sending wet hair in every direction until it was mostly dry and stuck out like an electrocuted turkey. Then all she had to do was strategically add some sculpting putty and mold it into place—ingenious invention, sculpting putty. Once her hair tucked and curled and behaved itself nicely, she attended to her makeup, pronounced herself lovely—if she did say so herself—and tiptoed back through the bedroom, grabbing her recipe book, whistle, and ChapStick before slipping out the door into the dimly lit hallway. She wished she had her jacket since the house was rather cold. It was made of stone after all: what did she expect?

  For the briefest moment she questioned her own judgment of being alone in a house where a murder had taken place. Or of leaving Breanna alone as well, but whether it was because of the security guards posted around the house or because she just really, really, really wanted to cook, Sadie wasn’t nearly as freaked out as perhaps she should be. She had her trusty jogging whistle in her pocket for protection and besides, someone had to make breakfast. She went back and locked the bedroom door from the inside, testing the knob to assure Breanna was safe, and then headed toward the stairs.

  Manny was sitting at the top of the stairs and rose to his feet when she reached him. His dark skin seemed even darker in the dimmed light of early morning.

  “Mrs. Hoffmiller,” he said, his lilting accent making her name sound so musical. “What are you doing up and about?”

  She smiled. “Making breakfast,” she said as if sharing a secret.

  Manny began shaking his head but Sadie put a hand on his arm. “Manny,” she said, looking him full in the face. “I have spent a week touring this beautiful country, seeing the sights, living the life of gentry, and yet right now all I want to do is get my hands in some flour and put together a breakfast that will last you all day.” She swished her hand through the air. “Now, doesn’t it seem ridiculous that some silly rules about who can and can’t be allowed in the kitchen would get in the way of my doing this service?”

  Manny chuckled. “Ah, Mrs. Hoffmiller, you’re trying to manipulate me,” he said. “But I’m not to be—”

  “Oatmeal raisin,” Sadie interrupted, lifting one eyebrow. “Is that your price? A fresh plate of oatmeal raisin cookies.”

  “I’m hired help for the estate, Mrs. Hoffmiller, I can’t go against the instructions.”

  “Chocolate chip cookies,” she cut in. “Fresh, gooey, oozy chocolate chip cookies. And no one told you specifically not to allow me to make breakfast, did they?”

  He shook his head. “Mrs. Hoffmiller,” he said again, placing his hand on his chest. “Regardless of whether I was specifically instructed or not, I was told that guests are to remain in the common areas of the estate.”

  Sadie narrowed her eyes, looking him over appraisingly as she tried to properly determine what would woo him to her side of this argument. Finally she leaned toward him. “Coconut macaroons,” she said with confidence. How could she have forgotten how popular they were in England?

  Manny’s back straightened, and then he leaned forward. “Dipped in chocolate?” he asked.

  Bingo.

  “Oh, yes, each bite is a perfect combination of smooth, rich chocolate and sweet coconut. Together, they are food of the gods.”

  Manny, for all his brute strength, was putty in her hands. He reached down and unclipped a radio from his belt. “Mrs. Hoffmiller will be in the kitchen,” he said into it. “I’m escorting her there now and will check on her intermittently.” She dug in her pocket to show her whistle while he still held the walkie-talkie close to his mouth. She wanted to make sure they realized she was prepared. Manny furrowed his brows for a moment but nodded when she shook the whistle and smiled broadly. “She has, uh, a whistle.”

  “In case I need help,” Sadie whispered.

  “In case she needs help,” Manny repeated.

  Static-filled voices confirmed they’d heard his transmission and then Manny waved her forward, following her down the stairs. The house was mostly dark, lit by lamps here and there that cast pools of dim light. It was like something out of a romantic movie the way the furniture and walls blended into each other and the ambiance made Sadie think of Detective Pete Cunningham. They’d been dating for about two months, but things were going slowly. Pete hadn’t quite come to terms with his wife’s death two years ago and had yet to even kiss Sadie goodnight after one of their bi-weekly dinner dates. But here in the darkened estate, Sadie was quite sure that if she had the chance, this was exactly the type of setting she’d like to be in with Pete. Maybe she’d see if she could recreate the mood when she got home. It was good to remember that she missed him. She hoped he felt the same.

  “What time are you off?” she asked Manny when they reached the double doors of the kitchen.

  “Seven,” Manny said.

  Sadie nodded. “I’ll do my best to have them ready for you, but I might be cutting it close.”

  “I believe I’ll be back this evening, so you have plenty of time.”

  “Even better!” Sadie said with a grin. “I’ll have the macaroons ready for you when you come back on shift.” Sadie pushed through the doors into the dish room, but Manny put a hand out to stop her from going any further.

  “Let me look around first,” he said.

  She nodded and waited while he entered the kitchen, turned on the lights, and made his way around the room.

  “All clear,” Manny said when he returned after nearly a minute. “Carl is posted outside that door.” She followed his finger to the outside door of the kitchen that Lacy had disappeared through yesterday. “And I’ll continue to check on you, alright?”

  “And I’ve got my whistle,” Sadie reminded him, patting her pocket.

  One side of Manny’s mouth went up into a smile. “Right.”

  Chocolate-Dipped Coconut Macaroons

  1 2/3 cups flaked sweetened coconut* (don’t pack into measuring cup)

  1/3 cup sugar

  3 tablespoons flour

  1/4 teaspoon salt

  3 egg whites

  1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract

  1/4 teaspoon almond extract

  chocolate for dipping

  Mix coconut, sugar, flour, and salt together in a small bowl. Set aside. Beat egg whites in a medium-sized bowl until frothy—about 30 seconds. Add extracts and mix until combined. Add coconut mixture and stir until combined. Drop by rounded teaspoonfuls onto well-greased baking sheets, parchment paper, or silicone baking sheet (macaroons are notorious for sticking to the pan). Shape with fingers so they are nice and round. Bake at 325 degrees for 18 to 20 minutes or until golden brown around the bottom edges. Let cool completely before removing from pan to prevent sticking. Dip bottom half of cookie into a bowl of melted chocolate.

  Cool completely. Store in an airtight container.<
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  Makes about 2 dozen cookies.

  * For a tasty option, toast half the coconut by spreading coconut in single layer on a baking sheet. Bake at 350 degrees for about 15 minutes or until coconut is light brown. You can also put coconut in toaster oven on “dark” cycle. Check frequently to avoid burning.

  Chapter 20

  ~

  Manny left and Sadie walked into the kitchen, smiling with deep satisfaction at the expansive countertops, twelve-range stove, and triple ovens that, for today at least, were hers and hers alone. Mrs. Land might not know chicken stock from bouillon but she kept a very nice kitchen.

  Sadie took a moment to familiarize herself with the room—it was pretty straightforward—but not well stocked. Lacy may have cooked, but she likely only did things here and there to fill out the meal. Sadie found several black aprons hanging on a hook next to her jacket and picked out the cleanest one.

  Someone had done some shopping as there were the basics in the glass-fronted refrigerator. The freezer also had a few items—including frozen scones with instructions on how to properly thaw and reheat them. Sadie was downright offended, but managed to push her way past it in order to focus on breakfast. There were potatoes left over from last night, plenty of eggs, cheese, and some ham and even a little broccoli. Unfortunately, she only found an old bag of coconut, and it didn’t have nearly enough for the macaroons. Plus, there wasn’t any chocolate to dip the macaroons into. She’d have to find a way to get what she needed for the cookies—in fact, she’d definitely need a store run if she were going to cook all the meals today. However, she didn’t let the missing ingredients overwhelm her excitement about the one English staple she’d been dying to make—crumpets.

  Sadie had looked forward to tea and crumpets since she and Breanna first decided to take this trip, and she hadn’t been disappointed. They were a savory, non-sweet tea treat, and Sadie had first tried them at a little tea shop in Northampton. From the first bite she’d known she wanted to learn how to make crumpets on her own. She was encouraged by a good selection of baking items in the cupboards. All she needed was a recipe.

  At the far end of the kitchen she located a shelf full of cookbooks, and with eager excitement, she set out to find a crumpet recipe. Finding a crumpet recipe in an English cookbook was easy; however, once she read through the recipe, she realized crumpets were very different from anything she’d ever made. Before actually eating her first crumpet, Sadie had thought they were like a crepe, but they turned out to be more like a muffin—sorta—but not really. They were similar in size and shape to the English muffins Sadie bought at the grocery store, but they weren’t the same thing. According to the recipe, they were cooked on top of the stove using something called crumpet rings to hold the shape. She’d never heard of crumpet rings. She’d never heard of baking muffins on a stove either.

  The recipe called for yeast and rising time so she needed to verify that there was yeast somewhere in this kitchen before she got started. Luckily, a quick inspection turned up a couple packages of yeast in the refrigerator. She took it as a sign that she was meant to make crumpets since, despite the poor stock of the kitchen, she had everything she needed for the recipe.

  She set the yeast to proof while combining the other ingredients—only wishing she had instant yeast to speed up the process. She soon wished that she also knew how to use metric measurements. It took a good deal of time to figure out all that math, but she eventually added the yeast and stirred until her arm felt ready to fall off. Once everything was thoroughly mixed, she covered the bowl with a damp flour-sack towel, preheated one of the ovens to 150 degrees, and put the bowl inside to speed up the rising process, which, according to the recipe, could take as long as an hour. Then she went on a hunt for crumpet rings.

  She had to return to the recipe again in order to get a good mental image of what a crumpet ring really was. She assumed it must be round, at least an inch tall, perhaps with a handle to make it easy to remove once the crumpets set up. Then again, the recipe said to use tongs to remove the rings once the crumpets were ready to turn, so maybe there was no handle. It did say that crumpets made without rings were called pikelets. Sadie filed that bit of trivia away, but was determined to find crumpet rings if she could.

  She was peering into the very back of a drawer she’d nearly emptied when the sound of footsteps made her stiffen. Whipping around with her heart in her throat, she half expected to encounter the murderer wielding another fireplace poker. Instead, Austin Melcalfe stopped in his tracks just inside the doorway of the kitchen that led to the staff dining room. For a moment his brooding expression was replaced with surprise, and then he quickly shut it down, opting for the disappointed frustration that was so at home on his face.

  “What are you doing in here?” he asked briskly. “I told you specifically to stay out of the kitchen.”

  Sadie cleared her throat and pushed her hair from her eyes while standing up straight. “I assumed that only meant yesterday,” she said innocently. “And we needed a cook; Grant wasn’t able to find a replacement for Mrs. Land.”

  “Grant said you could take her place?” Austin asked sharply, his eyes and face issuing her a challenge. He was dressed in rather trendy jeans, faded across the thigh, brown leather shoes, and a button-up shirt that he left untucked, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. A rather casual country estate ensemble, Sadie thought, but nice.

  “Grant didn’t give me permission,” Sadie said, not wanting to get the butler in trouble—even if he had put her in her place last night. She’d been careful not to put any staff members at risk with this venture; she’d feel horrible if anyone got in trouble. For that reason, she was glad Austin had discovered her before Grant had. “But Mrs. Land is gone,” Sadie continued with a shrug. “And I like to cook. Everyone needs to eat and I’m just doing what I can to help.”

  Austin was silent as if it took a lot of concentration to process that thought. He looked at the drawer she had been rummaging through. “What are you looking for?”

  “Um, crumpet rings,” Sadie answered carefully. Why did he care what she was looking for? And what was he doing here anyway?

  He lifted his eyebrows while still managing to show his disdain. “You’re making crumpets?”

  “Well, I considered praying for them instead, but I’m afraid my faith isn’t quite that strong.” She smiled at her own joke.

  He didn’t crack a smile. “No one makes crumpets anymore.”

  Sadie, still smiling as if he weren’t being boorishly rude, shook her head. “If people still eat them, then someone must still make them.”

  His eyes narrowed and he walked further into the room. “I mean that households don’t make their own. We buy them.”

  Sadie was not surprised and considered commenting on the fact that not having a real cook might have something to do with the fact that he assumed all crumpets were store-bought. However, she resisted saying so, choosing instead to turn the spotlight back on him. “And how would you know that? I don’t imagine you’re all that intrinsically involved in kitchen work.”

  “Everyone knows you buy crumpets,” he countered.

  “Well, I found a recipe,” she said, dropping her hand from her hip and turning back to the recipe. “And I plan to make them, but I can’t find crumpet rings.”

  “Because no one makes their own crumpets anymore.”

  “So you said,” Sadie replied. After a few moments she looked up to see he was still watching her. She didn’t mind so much so long as his watching didn’t lead to him kicking her out of the kitchen. “Can I help you with something?”

  “Help me?” he repeated as if not understanding the question.

  “Well, are you hungry? Is that why you’re here? I’ve got the crumpet batter rising and I’ll be starting a breakfast casserole in a few minutes. I found some cute ceramic dishes that I think will work perfectly for individual casseroles.”

  “You shouldn’t be up and about on your own,” he said
, completely ignoring what she’d said.

  “Manny escorted me,” Sadie informed him. “Didn’t he tell you that? He’s posted at the staircase.” As soon as she said it, she cringed slightly, hoping she hadn’t just gotten Manny in trouble. Grant had been talking about staff when he said they could get in trouble for talking to her; Manny didn’t count as staff, did he?

  “I came down another way,” Austin said.

  Sadie made a note of that. She loved the idea of secret passageways—well, she loved the idea of knowing where they were for herself. It wasn’t nearly as much fun just to know they were there. That was actually kind of creepy.

  “And why are you here?” Sadie pushed.

  He paused and she imagined that he was trying to come up with a reason. “I heard noises,” he said. “And I’ve always been an early riser.”

  “Apparently,” Sadie said, glancing at the clock—it was a quarter to six. She gave up on the drawer she was rifling through and stood, looking around for any other place she might find the rings. They had to be here. This was an English kitchen and despite Austin’s insistence that no one made their own crumpets, Sadie was not giving up. “Security knows I’m here and they said they’ll be checking on me now and again.” She considered telling him about the whistle, but no one seemed to respect it like she did so she let it go this time. He continued to stand there while she moved on to another drawer. “So, since security knows I’m here and you’ve solved your little mystery of noises in the kitchen . . .” He didn’t make any move to leave so she continued. “Is there something else you needed?”

  “Actually, I am hungry,” he said, but made no move to get himself anything. Sadie gave up her crumpet ring hunt for the moment and headed for the fridge. He might not like that a guest was working in the kitchen, but he had no qualms about having her wait on him. She kept waiting for him to tell her to leave, but so far it didn’t seemed to have crossed his mind.

  “Well, what’s your pleasure? I was about to dice up some ham, would you like a slice of that? There’s also milk in here and some fruit—would you like an apple?”