Christmas At Thrush Green by Miss Read Read Free Book Online

Piggott knew it was going to be another busy day in The Fuchsia Bush, and had arrived especially early to make the cakes and scones that would be needed. The High Street was bursting at the seams with people who looked increasingly harassed the closer it got to Christmas. By mid-morning, the tea-room would be full of exhausted shoppers who had decided they couldn’t face another moment without a restorative cup of coffee and a piece of lemon drizzle cake or a warm scone and butter.
    Then there would be the lunches. The Fuchsia Bush didn’t have a large menu. There was always the ‘soup of the day’, something wholesome at this time of year, served with home-baked crusty bread. Nelly had prepared some creamed fish today as one of the two main courses - it was funny how ‘fish on Fridays’ was still an accepted ritual - and there was also steak and ale pie, which was always a great favourite with the men.
    Shoppers would come in for tea throughout the afternoon, their parcels and overflowing carrier bags littering the floor.
    ‘Do be careful of them bags when you’re carrying the trays across,’ Nelly would exhort Rosa and Poppy daily. ‘We can’t be doing with any accidents. Try to get the customers to put them under their chairs.’
    Nelly was hard at work rolling out the puff pastry for the steak and ale pies when Poppy came into the kitchen with the morning post.
    Poppy had worked here for nearly a year now. She was a pretty girl with long fair hair pulled back in a loose pony tail. When she had left school, she had tossed her head at her sister Rosa’s suggestion that she should join her working at The Fuchsia Bush. She had her sights set on the music industry and thought that working in a shop that sold guitars and recorders, drum kits and music in all shapes and sizes, would be a good stepping-stone. But a few months working in a rather dingy shop at the far end of the High Street had decided her that perhaps, after all, the music business was not for her.
    A brief spell as an assistant in a chemist’s shop had followed, but Poppy didn’t like the ogling eyes of the pharmacist, and had left before he got any funny ideas. Her next job was in one of the High Street shoe shops, but she complained about having to handle customers’ often smelly and grubby feet, and didn’t last more than a few months there.
    Rosa was beginning to despair that her little sister would ever settle down, so when a vacancy occurred at The Fuchsia Bush, she again suggested Poppy should go along for an interview. Rosa herself was enjoying being in charge of the tea-room (after Mrs Piggott, of course) now that Gloria was next door running the sandwich shop, and had smartened herself up. When Poppy arrived for her appointment with Nelly after the tea-room had closed for the day, Rosa checked her over to ensure that she was clean and tidy.
    ‘Go on, then,’ she said, dusting down the shoulders of Poppy’s coat, ‘and mind you’re polite.’
    Poppy did as she was told, and said ‘Yes, ma’am’ or ‘No, ma’am’ to every question Nelly put to her. When asked whether she could add up quickly and accurately, Poppy replied, ‘Oh yes, ma’am. I came top of my class for arithmetic at school.’
    That settled it as far as Nelly was concerned. Anyone who was good at sums earned her admiration. She agreed to take Poppy on a month’s trial and now, a year later, was satisfied in every way. The two sisters made a good team and were careful to keep their chatter for either before customers arrived or when they were in the kitchen.
    ‘Morning post for you, Mrs Piggott,’ Poppy sang out, brandishing a wodge of envelopes.
    Nelly looked up from where she was working. ‘Could you sort through them for me? My hands are covered with flour. Anything that is obviously a bill can go straight through to the office for Mrs Border, along with anything that has a trade address on the front.’
    Poppy hummed as she sorted the post into two piles.