‘There are some lovely vegetables in the kitchen garden, including lots of herbs. If it all goes to plan every bowl will have a pinch of herbs and a swirl of cream,’ said Meg, hoping her mother would approve of the menu changes.
‘Think how much nicer it will be to have soup made with our own produce instead of those dreadful packets full of goodness-knows-what that Geoff was so fond of.’ Ambrosine seemed very happy. ‘And my favourite: bread-and-butter pudding to finish.’
‘I think we’re going to be fine tomorrow, Mum.’ Meg took a breath. ‘So, how did your mission to get us some staff go?’
‘Well, Susan, who is – was – our main woman, took a lot of persuading to come back. She was so offended by Geoff’s awful behaviour. But her daughter, Cherry, was there, and she was keen to serve at the lunch at least. Once they were on board, Susan telephoned her many local relations and people all agreed, althoughI’m not sure many of them will stay after the banquet. But it’s such a long-standing tradition and, I gather, fun to serve at, we’ve probably got enough people. Some are coming this evening to set up the room.’ She frowned. ‘I suppose I should check to see if we’ve got anyone booked for dinner tonight.’
Meg’s heart lurched uncomfortably. ‘If we have, they’ll have to have omelettes.’
‘Don’t worry, dear,’ said Ambrosine, ‘the hotel never takes dinner bookings the night before the banquet. Anyone staying has to have something cold.’ She smiled, and Meg suddenly thought what a beauty she must have been when young.
‘Now everything is settled,’ said Ambrosine, ‘I’ll pop upstairs and take off my hat.’
‘I do hope I’m able to “pop upstairs”, or indeed anywhere, when I’m her age,’ said Louise. ‘She’s obviously had a wonderful time helping you.’
‘At first I thought she might be a bit time-consuming but not a bit of it. She knows so much about the house, the garden, the hotel in its early days. She’s writing a history. And better than that, she found a cupboard with some very useful ingredients in it, including a slightly rusting tin of tomato purée.’
‘I haven’t seen her looking so happy and stimulated since I got here,’ said Louise. She sighed. ‘Oh, darling, what would I have done without you?’
‘I don’t know, Mum, but like Ambrosine, I am hugely enjoying myself. I love solving a crisis and it’s all going so well. Between us we can do anything!’
Chapter Four
Meg got up before dawn the following day. Apart from a lot of other preparations the previous evening, she had wanted to make sure that the chickens were all properly cooked and set to cool so had stayed up late to do that. Now she wanted to get the meat off the bones and start turning it into coronation chicken.
She was wearing her chef’s whites and trousers. Yesterday she’d spent all day in the dress she’d travelled in but this morning she wanted to feel professional. She’d set up a deboning station on one of the tables at the edge of the room. She knew the big kitchen table would be in frequent use and there was a window she could look out of if she needed a break from chicken bones.
She was suddenly aware of a loud engine noise and out of the corner of her eye spotted a huge motorbike with a black-clad rider go past. It must be the milk and cream delivery, she realised. She was glad that it had all appeared so early. Time was rushing on, and she had a lot to do in order to be ready.
‘Can you just put it on the table,’ she said, turning round.
The tall, black-clad figure didn’t have a couple of small milk churns with him. He was wearing a helmet and goggles and even without being able to see him properly, she could tell he was angry.
‘Where the hell is Geoff?’ he said, removing his headgear, revealing dark blond hair and steely grey eyes. He was in his early thirties. ‘And who the hell are you?’
‘Geoff left,’ said Meg, bristling like an angry cat. ‘And I’m Meg Sanderson.’
‘And why are you here?’ the man demanded.
Meg took a breath to answer but hesitated. If she just said she was Louise’s daughter, would he know who Louise was? And her mother would certainly have mentioned it if she’d known such a large, spiky man was due to appear.
‘Well?’ He was impatient as well as hostile.
‘I’m Louise’s daughter,’ she said reluctantly. ‘I came to help out with the lunch today.’
‘Well, you can go now. I’m here. And who the hell is Louise?’
Meg stood her ground. ‘You haven’t told me who you are.’
‘Me? I’m Justin Nightingale.’
Meg went cold. This must be Andrew’s son, the one her mother hadn’t met, the one who had the say-so on who worked here and who didn’t. But she mustn’t show fear: bullies loved that. ‘And you arrived this morning because?’
He widened his eyes in disbelief at her question. ‘Because of the lunch! You do know about the lunch? And where is Geoff?’
‘I told you. Geoff walked out. I’ve stepped into the breach!’ Meg wondered if perhaps this was a bit melodramatic. It was a lunch, not a life-saving operation.
‘Why did Geoff leave? Were you here at the time?’
