Christmas At Thrush Green by Miss Read Read Free Book Online Page A

‘It looks as though you’ve got quite a few Christmas cards, Mrs Piggott. From satisfied customers, I expect. Gosh, that smells great,’ she said as Nelly pulled a tray of individual steak and kidney pie dishes towards her, the meat steaming gently from inside.
    ‘We’ll add the cards to the others out front later,’ Nelly said. ‘It’s good to show off what folk think about us.’
    Poppy held up the last of the envelopes, which was slightly larger than the rest. ‘I’m not sure which pile to put this into. I don’t think it’s a Christmas card because the envelope’s been typed.’ She turned it over. At the bottom of the gummed flap was a symbol printed in gold. She ran her thumb over it.
    ‘Look,’ she said, holding the back of the envelope out towards Nelly, ‘that’s embossed, that is. Very posh!’
    Nelly leaned back a bit and squinted at the envelope that Poppy had thrust in front of her. A symbol of a teapot! She knew what that meant.
    ‘Aha!’ she exclaimed, pushing away the envelope with a forearm. ‘I know who that’s from. That’ll be from the Guild of Tea Shops. Put it on my pile. Then take the rest through to Mrs Border.’
    ‘Ooh, do you think we’ve got the certuficate again?’ asked the girl, examining the envelope. ‘I see now, that teapot thing is the same as on the certuficate out front.’
    ‘We’ll soon find out,’ said Nelly. ‘Now, get on with you.’
    Poppy did as she was told and disappeared. The kitchen was quiet again, with just the murmurings of chatter coming through from the pantry where the two kitchen girls were working.
    Nelly cut a strip of pastry and carefully lined the edge of the first pie dish with it. Then she dipped her pastry brush into the bowl of beaten egg beside her on the work table, and painted the strip. Next she cut a circular piece of pastry for the lid, and carefully placed it over the meat. Using her forefinger, she pressed the lid on firmly all the way round before trimming it.
    As she prepared the nineteen other little pies, she thought about the Guild of Tea Shops. It was an organization Mrs Peters had applied to join a year or two before she had died, and Nelly had been so pleased for her when, after an inspection that had been carried out incognito, The Fuchsia Bush had been awarded membership of the Guild.
    Now as the sole proprietor of the tea-room, Nelly had strived to keep up the standards that had meant so much to Mrs Peters. She knew that at some time during July or August an inspection would be made and towards the end of the year she would receive a letter with the results of the inspection - and, hopefully, a Certificate of Excellence. For the first couple of years, there had been no certificate, just a gentle letter of criticism yet also of encouragement. One year, the Guild had said the inspector had reported there was a stain on the tablecloth and Mrs Peters had reprimanded Rosa who should have changed the cloth. Another year, it had been stones in the cherry jam.
    ‘That was bad luck,’ Nelly had said to her friend, Mrs Jenner, shortly after the letter had been received. ‘Whoever the inspector was must have had the only cherry stone in the place. We are always careful to buy jams without stones. Stands to reason, doesn’t it?’
    Nelly had half considered giving up the membership of the Guild but she changed her mind when Mrs Jenner told her about a Guild certificate she had seen, framed, in a tea-shop she’d visited in Chichester.
    ‘It’s ever so nice,’ Mrs Jenner said, reporting back to Nelly. ‘It’s all in scrolly sort of writing, red and gold, and has the date big in the middle. You know, the year. Like those awards you see in B&B places.’
    Nelly knew what Mrs Jenner meant, not that she had any occasion to stay in that sort of establishment. She had heard from Albert, however, that The Two Pheasants had a certificate saying the inn provided good beer.
    Two summers ago, she had introduced more varieties of