Dead Man's Chest by Kerry Greenwood Read Free Book Online

Lily very firmly. ‘This is my first kitchen and I’m going to make sure that she gets as good a dinner as I can cook. Now you can help me, or you can go back to Mrs Cook and I’ll manage with Tinker.’
    ‘So there, Miss La-di-dah!’ sneered Tinker, laying down a load of boxes.
    ‘He’s helping you? Wouldn’t scratch his own . . . I mean, he’s a lazy beggar. And his name’s Eddie,’ snapped Lily.
    ‘Really? Here we call him Tinker,’ said Ruth.
    ‘She’s callin’ me lazy! Always moonin’ over movie stars, while poor ol’ Amos the butcher’s boy is breakin’ his heart over ’er,’ added Tinker.
    ‘You little hound!’ exclaimed Lily, blushing.
    Ruth felt that she needed to assert some control over her minions.
    ‘Well, shall we do some work? If we get it all done soon I’ll make some banana cake. Those bananas are just about overripe. I need to find out how the oven works, too.’
    ‘I can show you that,’ said Tinker eagerly.
    ‘And you can go on with the list,’ said Lily, giving up on an easy day. If she went back, Mrs Cook would find more and more things for her to do. ‘I’ll stack and put away.’
    Ruth took up the list again, bit her pencil, and reflected that the gentle art of cookery might be the least of the challenges involved in running a tight kitchen.
    Lubricated by tea and nourished by Miss Phryne’s additions to the list, which included a large paper bag of Swallow & Ariell’s Best Assorted biscuits, Ruth had her kitchen and pantry arranged to her liking in four hours. She knew where all the stores were. She had overseen Tinker’s cleaning of the empty bins and lockers. She had checked for signs of rats and cockroaches. Her table was scrubbed. Her floor was swept. She had allowed Tinker to sharpen the knives, which he greatly enjoyed. She had hard-boiled the eggs. She had sliced ham and cheese. She had washed and polished a variety of summer fruits. She had cut several plates of ham and pickle sandwiches, cream cheese and chive sandwiches and tomato sandwiches, and her banana bread had come out of a nice efficient reliable oven just the right colour and cooked all the way through.
    She sent Lily to set the luncheon table for a buffet and had Tinker wheel the food in, place it carefully on the side table and cover it with a muslin cloth to keep off flies. The lemonade was made and cooling in the icebox, orange slices and mint swimming in the tart, refreshing fluid, just waiting for the fizzy injection of soda water to make it perfect. Miss Phryne’s gin was chilling beside it.
    Then the kitchen staff sat down to their own preferred luncheon, which in Tinker’s case was a doorstop of bread topped with a handful of pickled onions, as much ham and cheese as he could cram onto it, sealed with another doorstop.
    ‘You’re never going to get that in your mouth,’ jeered Lily.
    ‘Yah,’ replied Tinker.
    Ruth ate her own sandwich in silence. She was considering her menu with the calm, devoted contemplation of an enclosed nun reflecting on the sacrament. Not even watching Tinker engulf his sandwich as though he could unhinge his jaw was enough to distract her. She had Miss Leyel’s book open on the table in front of her.
    Lily was bored. No one to talk to in this hole, she thought. Still, one more try before she went back to Mrs Cook. At least there she had other people around who weren’t rude boys or real strange girls who were only half there.
    ‘Going to the movies while you’re here?’ she asked Ruth.
    ‘Yes, I expect so,’ said Ruth. ‘Tinker, can you go and find Miss Jane and ask her to come and help me? Sorry, Lily, I really don’t want to talk about anything. I want to think about my menu. Thank you for your help. Can you come in tomorrow for breakfast?’
    ‘Dunno,’ said Lily, mentally vowing that hell would freeze over first. ‘Missus might send the other girl. See you,’ she said and made it out the kitchen door as fast as she could. That was a strange