A Family Christmas
Page 9
‘You’ll be getting yerself a good lad. There’s none better as I know of.’
‘I’m sure you’re right, Mrs Slater.’ Emma remained standing and gave the lady her place on the sofa. After another couple of hymns Ben changed the tempo and struck up with ‘I’ve Got Sixpence’. Then he did a medley of popular songs.
Before they had finished Mr Slater had wandered in and joined in the revelry. ‘Eeh, lad, it’s like old times; it’s some time since there was music like this on the row. What’s it all about?’
‘It’s to welcome my fiancée, Mr Slater.’
‘Is it now? Well then, let’s ’ave a look at you, lass.’
‘Stop embarrassing the girl,’ his wife admonished. ‘If Ben’s chosen her it doesn’t matter what anybody else thinks.’
‘Course it does, ee’s as good as a son to me and I can see that this young lass’ll be a wife to be proud of. I’m not a bad judge of character and I can see that Bill would ’ave been proud to have her in the family, so can we ’ave a bit more music?’
‘One more, then we shall ’ave to go.’ Ben had suddenly realised what time it was. ‘Hey, shouldn’t you lot be at church by now?’
‘We’re not going,’ Will informed his brother. ‘Our Jane says we needn’t as it’s a special occasion.’
‘Right, well just this once then.’ Ben began to play again, the hymn that had been his father’s favourite. ‘This one’s for me mam and dad, even though they aren’t here to hear it.’
‘Oh but they are,’ Lucy said. ‘I mean, I’m sure they’re here in spirit.’
‘He Who Would Valiant Be’ rang out across the row and the Gabbitas family were uplifted and finally felt they could look forward to the future and better times. All except William, who could foresee a wedding day drawing rapidly nearer and an escape from the mine becoming ever more remote.
On the following day, tea at the vicarage consisted of salad and roast chicken. The poultry had been sent with the compliments of Boadacea Greenwood – in appreciation of the vicar’s help given to all the people of the parish, she said. Because it was Mr Grundy’s Oddfellows Benevolent Society meeting Robbie was for once home to join them. James and John, both being on afternoon shift, were absent.
‘Well, this is nice,’ Louisa commented as she poured the tea. ‘We don’t often have Robbie’s company at the evening meal.’
The chicken was delicious but Prudence helped herself to nothing more then a lettuce leaf and a warm boiled beetroot. ‘Aren’t you feeling well?’ Louisa enquired of her daughter.
‘I’m fine, why?’
‘Well, why aren’t you eating?’
‘I am.’
‘Have some chicken then.’
‘Oh I couldn’t possibly eat that, knowing where it’s come from.’
‘What do you mean?’ Herbert put down his fork.
‘From the Greenwoods. I’m sure the farm kitchen is far from hygienic.’
‘It’s as clean as anyone else’s,’ Robbie said, not counting the flea-ridden old dog, but he didn’t think he’d better mention that.
‘I’m sure it is,’ Louisa acknowledged. ‘Anything Mrs Greenwood sends us is always delicious and very much appreciated.’
‘And that’s another thing: do we have to accept charity from those people?’
‘It’s not charity. She sent it for the vicar for all the good work he does. Goodman by name, good man by nature, that’s how she described your father. Besides, what do you mean by “THOSE PEOPLE”?’ Robbie could feel his temper rising.
‘Well, they’re so vulgar. Take the girl, Dot, so loud-voiced and common.’
‘No she isn’t. She might laugh loudly, but that’s better than never laughing at all and having a long, miserable face like yours.’
Prudence felt the colour rising to her face. ‘I won’t sit here and let him speak to me like that,’ she told her parents.
‘That’s all right. Go to your room then,’ Louisa said.
‘No it’s all right. I’ll go to mine; you can stay here. I apologise for my outburst, sir, but I don’t regret the things I said. The Greenwoods are my friends. Good hard-working people who have made me welcome in their home just as you have. I’m very grateful to you for that and sorry if I’ve upset you.’ Robbie stood up and made for the door.
‘Robert, come back here and finish your meal. Prudence, I believe you were going to your room. What are you waiting for?’
The girl stood up so abruptly she knocked over her chair and leaving it where it had fallen she flounced out of the room. Robert picked it up and placed it at the table. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t eat any more,’ he said.
‘And no wonder. What’s wrong with the girl?’
Louisa sighed. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘She’s turning into a spoiled, pampered snob. She needs something useful to do with her life. All she does is waste her days doing useless pieces of embroidery and reading, and it’s not as if she reads anything intelligent; she’s taken to buying those awful love magazines. Nothing but a waste of money, money she doesn’t see the value of because she doesn’t have to lift a finger and earn it. She needs a job.’
‘A job? Doing what?’ Herbert would never agree to his daughter working.
‘I don’t know. I only know that she’ll end up an embittered old spinster if she doesn’t get out amongst people her own age.’
Robbie was embarrassed at being a party to the conversation. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I need to get ready. I’m going to play billiards at the Miners’ Club. Thank you for a lovely meal, Louisa.’
‘Thanks to Mrs Greenwood. Please give her our thanks when you see her, and for the eggs from the week before. We’re most grateful.’
‘I will.’ Robbie escaped from what had been the most embarrassing meal of his life. Thank God his brothers hadn’t been here to witness his outburst or he’d have been for it. He didn’t go upstairs, unwilling to encounter Prudence Goodman. He checked to see that he had two pence in his pocket, which would pay for half an hour’s billiards, and went out into the fresh Millington air. He had grown to love this town and the people in it. He felt a deep affection for the Goodmans and the Grundys and considered himself an extremely fortunate young man. Only one person was spoiling his life, but it was Prudence Goodman’s home and he was just a lodger, so he had better learn to control his tongue. Otherwise he and his brothers could find themselves homeless again. Even seeing Prudence Goodman’s spiteful face every day was preferable to that.
Nellie Gabbitas was more excited than she had ever been in her life. She had been asked to arrange a dinner party for twenty-four very important gentlemen who were doing business in Cragstone. Not normal everyday catering, she had been told, but something very special. If she wasn’t capable – the housekeeper had told her – outside help could be arranged. Nellie had been adamant that with Lily’s help and maybe a girl to help wait at the table she could definitely cope. Lily said her sister would be delighted to assist her and now the day had arrived.
‘You can pluck those pheasants now, Lily. And don’t forget to remove the charcoal pieces.’
‘What’s it for, the charcoal?’
‘Keeps it fresh whilst it’s hanging. Before you do that, bank up the oven and pull out the damper, I need to get these pies in soon. We could do with two ovens today.’ The pies had been made with four hares and a pound of bacon. Four onions, the livers and four glasses of wine had been mixed with breadcrumbs and seasoned with nutmeg and parsley to make a forcemeat. Nellie had lined the pie dishes with the forcemeat and placed the cooked chopped hares in the dishes. For the topping she had made four pounds of rough puff pastry and placed it over the pies. These would be cooked now whilst the oven wasn’t too hot; when they came out the cranberry tarts would be ready to go in. She would serve these with egg custard. She would also be serving ginger puffs with wine sauce and rice meringue decorated with cherries and angelica. Lily’s sister could do the decorating.
‘Are those pheasants pl
ucked yet, Lily?’
‘Nearly.’
‘When they are you can get down the iron cauldron and put the ham, asparagus tops and the lettuces in; it’ll need five pints of liquid in and it can go on the hook over the fire. You can use that stock we saved from yesterday and don’t overdo the salt; that ham’s a bit on the salty side. I ought to have soaked it overnight but it’ll be all right.’ Before the asparagus soup Nellie would be starting with prawns, twelve for each person, cooked but not shelled. She would stand them round half a lemon decorated with parsley. After that they would be served whitebait with thin brown bread and butter. Then would come the hashed pheasant and then the hare pie followed by the sweets. Nellie had been more worried about serving the wrong wines than not coping with the menu, but Mrs Cooper was an authority on that, her being a secret tippler.
‘Sherry wi’ soup. Hock wi’ fish. Champagne wi’ owt. Port wi’ the dessert and a nice liqueur with the coffee. You can do them; leave the lasses to serve the food and you serve the drinks. Oh and have some barley water for the teetotals, though I doubt there’ll be any amongst that lot. I’ll get out the decanters for young Molly to wash later.’
‘I don’t know how they’ll get any drink down them if they eat this lot.’ Lily brought out the pies, her face scarlet with the heat from the oven.
‘And summat else to remember,’ Mrs Cooper told Lily, ‘go and ’ave an all-over wash before yer put that clean uniform on. We don’t want ’em complaining about the smell of sweat.’
‘I won’t smell. I’ll put some of that Lily-of-the-valley on that you bought me for Christmas.’
‘Aye, well I don’t mind yer smelling nice, but get rid of that sweat first. I don’t want yer thinking yer can cover it up wi’ scent because it won’t work.’
‘I might not ’ave time.’
‘You will.’ Nellie looked at the clock on the wall. ‘We’ve got everything in hand.’
‘I hope our Molly don’t faint, she’s ever so shy.’
‘Faint?’ Mrs Cooper shrieked. ‘Why, is she prone to fainting?’
‘No, not as I know of.’
‘Well then, stop trying to give us a heart attack, yer daft haporth.’
‘I hope there’s someone tall, dark and handsome and rich who takes a fancy to me,’ Nellie said.
‘They’ll be too busy gobbling to notice owt else.’
‘Aye, I expect they will,’ Nellie agreed, ‘but I can always dream and hope.’
‘Aye, I suppose you’re right. As my owd mother always used to say, “Where there’s life there’s hope”.’ Mrs Cooper flopped down in her own special chair. ‘Though I’ve given up hope of a man of any sort, years ago.’
Young Lily began to giggle and whether it was due to the thought of Mrs Cooper finding a man, or because they were all wound up like clock springs at the thought of the meal to be served, all three of them were soon bordering on hysterics. When Lily’s sister opened the kitchen door she called ‘Is summat burning in ’ere?’
‘Oh, my gawd, the tarts.’ Nellie ran to open the oven door. The tarts were done to a turn. ‘Oh, it’s a good job you came when you did or they’d have been ruined.’
‘And then where would we all have been?’ Lily asked.
‘Where indeed?’ Mrs Cooper took off her shoes to rest her feet and wondered where she would be in a couple of years and what would become of her in her old age. She wouldn’t be laughing then, would she?
The last of the dirty dishes had been removed and the men had withdrawn to the drawing room to enjoy a cigar with their coffee. Nellie kicked off her shoes and rubbed her feet. ‘I feel as if I’ve walked a hundred miles and back again.’
‘And no wonder. All I’ve done is supervise and I’m fair jiggered. ’Ere you two, leave them mucky pots and come and ’ave a sit down for ten minutes. There’s all this ’ere stuff to eat. Lily, go and fetch that lad in and let’s send in.’
‘He might ’ave gone to bed, Mrs Cooper. It’s past eleven.’
‘What? It never is! Why, the greedy gluttons must ’ave been eating for three solid hours.’
Larry should have gone home hours ago but chose to hang about the yard and had decided to sleep in the stables. It had been so exciting with motors drawing into the grounds and one or two arriving on horseback. He knew if they were all looked after he could expect a few tips before they left. He had spent the evening grooming the horses and polishing the saddles. Anyway, it was cosy here in the lamp light and more peaceful than at home, where his dad usually came home the worse for drink and started an argument. He was keeping a lookout for Lily, hoping she would come looking for him. He had almost given up hope when the door opened. She didn’t need to call his name before he was there beside her.
‘Come on, we’re going to ’ave us supper.’ Lily was whispering in case there was anybody about; she didn’t want to get Larry in trouble.
What a supper it was! Some of the tureens had hardly been touched and there was one whole hare pie left.
‘We’ll keep that for tomorrow’s dinner and have a fuddle,’ Mrs Cooper said. ‘We shan’t sleep by the time we’ve done with this lot. Now then, who’s for soup?’
It was almost midnight before they had finished eating and one o’clock before they had cleared away.
‘You’d better stop ’ere tonight; you can sleep with your Lily,’ the housekeeper told Molly. ‘It’s too late for yer to go ’ome now. Besides, there’ll be all those breakfasts to cook and serve. Yer can give us a hand wi’ them if yer like.’
Molly nodded. It would mean a bit more money and there was no school tomorrow to worry about.
Young Larry had taken a fancy to Lily’s sister. ‘I could walk ’er ’ome Mrs Cooper, if she likes.’
‘Well, I don’t know. What do yer think, lass?’
Molly was torn between staying and having a good breakfast or being escorted home by Larry. He had been smiling at her ever since she arrived and she quite liked him; it would be exciting being out in the dark with a boy. On the other hand, if she stayed she would be able to see him in the morning, so she chose a warm bed and a good breakfast.
‘Go on then, get to yer bed you two. We shall no sooner ’ave got our heads on the pillow than we ’ave to get up again. Go on, Larry, be in ’ere at six if yer want some breakfast. We shall be too busy after that.’
‘Thanks, Mrs Cooper. Thanks, Nellie. I don’t think I shall be able to eat owt else for a week, never mind breakfast.’
When he’d gone Nellie raked down the ashes and banked up the fire. Mrs Cooper undid the bun in her hair and let it loose. ‘You did well today, Nellie. The meal was fit for the king and no doubt about it.’
‘I couldn’t have done it without your guidance.’
‘Rubbish. I’m getting past all the rushing around at do’s like this. Me old legs are me downfall.’
‘You’re not that old, Mrs Cooper.’
‘No? Ow old would yer say I was then?’
Nellie wished the woman hadn’t asked a question like that. ‘Fifty-three or -four.’
‘I’m sixty-five.’
‘Never.’ Nellie couldn’t believe a woman of that age could be as energetic as Mrs Cooper.
‘Aye, I don’t know what’ll become of me when they kick me out.’
‘Oh, they won’t do that.’
‘Yes they will, Nellie. Don’t make the same mistake I did. Find yerself a good man and ’ave some children.’ The woman sighed. ‘Oh they call me Mrs Cooper, always did with me being housekeeper, like, but I was never married. Loved a man once, would ’ave given me life for ’im but it wasn’t meant to be.’ Nellie saw the tears brimming for a few moments, but then Mrs Cooper cheered up again. ‘Then there was another one who proposed to me, but ee upped and married somebody else, somebody with plenty of money, a bit of a horsey-looking woman, but she had money. Thought he could ’ave the penny and the bun; married her and then came back to me ’oping I would be his bit on the side.’
‘Never! You
didn’t fall for that, did you?’
‘Did I heck – hit him over the head with a copper posher, knocked ’im out, I did. Right on this ’ere doorstep, cut his head open. The master who was ’ere at the time dumped ’im in the carriage and took ’im into Millington to the doctors. Told ’im if he caught ’im round ’ere again ee would fetch constable. Lovely the master was at that time, came back and told me to find someone worthy of me in future. But it wasn’t to be.’ Mrs Cooper began to laugh. ‘I often wonder what ee told that wife of ’is had happened to ’is ’ead.’ She went towards the door. ‘You’re missing yer way ’ere, Nellie. You could be cooking in your own establishment instead of being stuck in this kitchen cooking for somebody else.’
It was usual on Saturdays for Mrs Cooper to collect the wages for her staff and discuss anything of importance with Mr Smith, the manager. The day after the dinner party being Saturday, the housekeeper knocked on the office door as usual at eleven o’clock. ‘Come.’ As usual Mr Smith was busy at his desk, but this morning another gentleman was seated in the chair by the window. Both men stood as Mrs Cooper entered the room.
‘Good morning.’ Mr Smith indicated for her to be seated.
‘Good morning, sir. I didn’t know you were occupied. Shall I come back later?’
‘No, no. Mr Johnson was one of our guests last night; he is waiting to pay his respects to you and your staff.’
Mr Johnson held out his hand to Mrs Cooper. ‘Yes indeed. It was the most excellent meal I have enjoyed for some time.’
‘All due to Miss Gabbitas; she’s an excellent cook.’
‘Under your expert guidance, though.’
‘Thank you. Miss Gabbitas worked extremely hard and was ably assisted by my other staff.’
‘Yes, if you tell me how many hours they worked above the norm, I’ll see they are paid accordingly.’ He picked up one of the pay packets. ‘How about Miss Gabbitas?’
‘Well, she was at it from half past five in the morning right through till gone one this morning.’ Mrs Cooper added a few hours on. ‘Then there was Lily, who worked the same hours, and her sister Molly, who never stopped all day and stayed over to help with the breakfasts. And young Larry gave up his night off to see to the horses and keep his eye on the motors. Polished ’em up this morning as soon as the cock crowed. Ee’s a right good lad, young Larry is.’ She watched him open the black metal cash box and add a bit extra into each packet.