The Keeper by Marguerite Poland Read Free Book Online Page B

brushed uniform and bustled off along the path in his wake, armed with a basket of cake ingredients.
    Aletta was standing in her living room with her hands on her hips surveying the doleful furnishings. She took a deep breath, exhaled evenly when she heard Maisie’s ‘Cooee,’ from the back door. She turned slowly and walked deliberately through to the kitchen. ‘Hello, Aunty Maisie,’ she said.
    ‘I don’t know if you’ve ever had my coconut cake?’ Maisie said cheerfully, aware of the faint look of vexation that had crossed Aletta’s face. ‘But I had rather a lot of the stuff from my last trip and it goes mouldy if you don’t use it up quickly. I always remember Hannes used to like it when he worked with Uncle Cecil at the lighthouse on The Hill.’ Maisie had begun to unpack her basket, plumping the ingredients down on the kitchen table, pushing aside Hannes’s breakfast plate. ‘You lucky,’ she said, eyeing the porridge bowl. ‘Uncle Cecil always has to have a cooked breakfast when he goes on duty, like as if he was living in a hotel and I have nothing better to do!’ Then she laughed and glanced over at Aletta. ‘But that’s true, I suppose – I haven’t got anything better to do!’
    Aletta, her head cocked – would it be like this every day? – had examined what Maisie was laying out: flour, baking powder, a block of butter, syrup, coconut, powdered egg. She picked up the tin of egg.
    ‘You didn’t bring fresh eggs with you, did you?’ asked Maisie. ‘If you couldspare one it makes all the difference! That, and the way you fold in the flour. I always sift it four times before I add it and the cake is really light. Only problem is the stoves here. Mine is so old that it doesn’t warm evenly. The damned cake is always squiff. Maybe yours is better.’ She turned swiftly and opened the oven, peering into it. ‘Got matches?’ she said.
    ‘Here,’ Aletta had replied. Before she tossed them to Maisie she lit a cigarette, stood with her arms folded. The oven popped alarmingly as it was lit. The smell of gas was heavy and nauseating. ‘No one has used this oven for a long time!’ Maisie closed the door with a snap.
    ‘Probably not,’ Aletta said. ‘And I obviously haven’t had a chance to try it or to ask. By the way, thank you for dinner last night.’
    ‘Dinner?
Jis
, when I serve “dinner” there must be candles and proper vegetables and pudding and even a starter. It’s supper on this rock and nothing else.’
    ‘Have you ever had a dinner here?’
    ‘No. Not even on an anniversary. My kids might have been sent to boarding school but, if you ask me,
this
is the boarding school. Well, that’s what it seems like. They complained all the time about their food but it was a whole lot better than here. Pudding every night and roast potatoes on Sundays, even in that hostel. Dolores says the food at the Y is awful but I told her to be grateful. She can go to the tea room any time she likes to get a sweet or an ice cream. Still, we mustn’t complain, must we?’ and she twinkled at Aletta. ‘They say we have the healthiest spot on the coast. No one ever gets sick, you know. The only germs that ever get here come when someone has been on shore and brings them back. Old Misklip has been here over thirty years and I can never remember a report about him having anything wrong with him, and the only time the doc’s had to come is for an accident or something like that.’
    ‘God forbid,’ muttered Aletta.
    ‘What’s that, lovey?’
    ‘That anyone should be here for thirty years. Why doesn’t he ask for a transfer?’
    ‘I don’t expect he knows the word,’ Maisie said. ‘And to what? Guano is guano. You don’t get it except on these islands. I reckon that’s all he knows about.’
    ‘I am going to make us some tea.’ Aletta was impatient.
    ‘And bring the radio, Aletta. There’s a serial I listen to and it’s just lovely. Once you get into it you won’t be able to do