Easterleigh Hall by Margaret Graham Read Free Book Online

you later, Simon.’ She disappeared.
    Simon touched Evie’s arm. ‘It’ll be fine. Remember it’s a training and I’m not far away – in the cottage down by the lake with the other under-gardeners. One of us comes in daily with the house flowers and sometimes the vegetables. I’ll try and make it my job as often as possible. Lil’s not too bad really, and you’ll find Annie in the scullery.’
    Lil reappeared and leant on her broom. Her fair hair had come adrift from her cap and framed her face. ‘Are you coming or not? You’ll have to look sharper than this with the housekeeper, Mrs Green, on the lookout. Did you meet her when you came before?’
    â€˜For a moment.’ Evie took a step forward. Lil added, ‘And Mrs Moore is in a right glucky mood. She wants you to do the clear soup straight after tea.’
    Evie hesitated. She’d only done clear soup a few times. She’d thought she’d be setting up the utensils and chopping the vegetables until she found her feet.
    Simon gripped her arm. ‘It’s just a training,’ he repeated close to her ear. ‘Train, learn.’ She felt his breath, felt his hand and relaxed. Yes, of course. She was here to learn. It wasn’t for ever. He smiled at her. She loved his eyes, such a deep blue. Loved all of him, always had. He had been in Jack’s class, Jack’s gang. At least, he was after he fought them because of his red hair. After that, they stopped going on about it. What was it about red hair? What was it about the bluest eyes she had ever seen? It was everything, that was what it was.
    Once in the kitchen, she felt again the awe she had experienced on the day of her interview. It was enormous, with large ranges down the left-hand side radiating warmth, and internal windows on the right looking out on to the central corridor. On the other side of the basement was the huge servants’ hall with similar windows looking on to the same corridor. Well, of course, she grimaced, what else when there was no expectation of privacy for servants?
    One long deal table took up the centre of the kitchen. Pots and pans hung from hooks above it. They were copper, the kitchenmaid’s responsibility, or the scullery maid’s, but whosever it was, it wasn’t hers and she was thankful for small mercies. Small mercies made her think of Jack, and home. She fastened instead on the plates that festooned the dresser on the wall behind which was the scullery. There were cups too, pristine in their whiteness. In the cupboards which ran around the room were, she suspected, many more utensils and endless crockery, and staff cutlery. The silver, though, and the good glasses and dinner services, would be in the butler’s pantry.
    She had been shown the knife cleaner and the knife sharpener in the far corner last time. The sharpener looked more like one of Old Dan’s milk churns. Over everything hung the aroma of a bubbling stockpot.
    Sitting on a stool at the table, her back to the ranges, rubbing her eyes while her glasses rested on her recipe book, was Mrs Moore. Standing just inside the doorway, Evie could see the swollen joints and the pain etched on the cook’s face. ‘At last.’ It was more of a growl, and Evie didn’t blame her. ‘Well, don’t just stand there, you daft dollop. Lil, you help Evie take her trunk to her room. She’s sharing with Annie. Evie, you get into uniform, then come straight back down. You can meet the other servants at tea, which you will prepare. We’ve more to do than I thought. Her Ladyship has returned early. We must be grateful that his Lordship has not, yet. We will be cooking for three upstairs, four when his Lordship returns. Mr Auberon is back from university, it seems for good. Lady Veronica is a fixture. Her Ladyship comes and goes, but you know that, if you’ve remembered our interview.’ Her plump face was red, her