17
In the morning, Christa was prepared for the dressing-down she knew was coming when Peggy arrived for work.
The kitchen was prepared for pancakes and Marc was drinking coffee at the table and reading on his iPad.
‘Morning, Mr Ferrier, Cook,’ said Peggy as she took off her coat and hung it on the hook by the back door.
‘Morning, Peggy,’ said Marc and Christa together.
Peggy was about to leave the kitchen when Christa spoke.
‘You mentioned the quail and the ham hocks,’ she said and she saw Peggy’s chin lift, as though ready for a fight.
‘I forgot to tell you I made soup with them and then I took the leftovers to the St William’s food van.’
She saw Peggy glance at Marc who didn’t look up from his reading and then back to Christa.
‘St William’s you say?’
Christa nodded. ‘Yes, there are many needy people this time of the year.’
Peggy nodded and looked at Marc again who finally lifted his eyes from the iPad. ‘There were many out last night, weren’t there, Christa?’
‘Many. Hard times for good people.’
‘You were there, Mr Ferrier?’ Peggy cleared her throat halfway through speaking, as though her tongue was tied in knots.
He nodded and sipped his coffee. ‘And I’ll be there again tonight,’ he said.
‘Tonight?’
‘Yep.’
Peggy’s mouth opened and shut for a moment.
‘I meant to ask you what your recipe for shepherd’s pie is. It would be a good healthy and filling dinner I can put it into containers, if you don’t mind sharing?’ Christa asked.
Peggy shook her head slowly like a carnival clown and Christa felt like popping a grape into her mouth from the fruit bowl.
‘I will get the cleaners ready and then I will come and walk you through it,’ she said as she walked to the door that led out into the main part of the house. ‘I am pleased you asked me, Chef, very pleased.’
And with that Peggy had melted into a softer version of the iced character she had been minutes earlier. She left the room.
Christa looked at Marc who laughed. ‘You now have to try and make her recipe into something edible. The boys said it was like paste.’
Christa held up her hands. ‘Don’t you worry about a thing. I have worked with some of the most egotistical chefs in Europe. Peggy will be a walk in the park.’
Marc stood up and put his coffee cup in the sink.
‘Well, have a good morning,’ he said.
‘I’ll try,’ she answered and she wondered why she sounded like she was flirting.
Marc walked out of the kitchen and she adjusted the jug of maple syrup on the bench.
‘What’s for lunch?’ she heard him ask and saw his head pop around the corner of the doorframe.
‘Tomato soup and cheese baguettes.’
