Another dash to the kitchen and back with the small bowls of sauces, cranberry, mint, wine and apricot, spiced apple and ginger and finally the requested bread sauce. That last I’ve decorated with a sprinkling of flaked almond leftover from making biscuits.
I stand admiring it all until…Gravy is probably boiling by now!
And vegetables!
Damn it!
I run back to the kitchen in a panic just in time to find Ricky back in the kitchen.
“I was looking for you.” He grins at me. “You wouldn’t believe what’s happening.”
“What?” I rescue the gravy and line up three jugs to pour it into, later.
“They’re all in that meeting in the conference room. About the old people’s home—”
“You’re not supposed to call it that.” Before he can object, I hold up a hand. “Or Geriatric or geries. It’s not nice.” I turn back to the counter.
“Okay, okay.” he jumps up to perch on the end of the counter, “You remember that old geezer, Jack?”
“Of course.”
“He left his money to Evan.”
This makes me pause and stare at Ricky. “How do you know?”
“Evan told them. He changed his will the day before he died. He left fifty thousand pounds for Kendric House. Evan said he tried to offer you some of it but you refused.” He jumps down form the counter and starts walking around, unable to sit still. “Did you really turn down, like thousands of pounds? Someone said because you are a actress and going to America. Are you really?”
“Who said that”
“Dunno. Couldn’t see from behind the door.”
“What?” I stop with a handful of baby Brussel sprouts on the way to the pot. “What do you mean from behind the door?”
“It’s a secret meeting. We weren’t allowed in.”
The kettle comes to the boil and clicks off. “You shouldn’t listen at doors.” I pour hot water over the sprouts, cover the pot and turn on the heat.
“But—”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
“You don’t want to know?”
“Not if it’s a private discussion.”
My next task: green beans and broccoli need to steam.
“But it’s like—” Ricky persists.
“No. If they wanted me to know they’d have asked me.” I fit the three tiers of the steamer and start loading in the green beans.
“They did ask you. You said you were busy.”
I hate to admit it but he has a point.
“Evan says they can have the ground floor of the west wing because it’s the biggest and doesn’t need a lot of construction. So Raff thinks they can make a old—a ger—er…retirement home here.”
No doubt he can tell I’m now listening even as I set up the steamer and fill it with broccoli.
