Page 26 of Oz
I wander off and add another item to my master list:Figure out the gardener problem to stop Silas from killing himself.
Silas
A few days later I wander reluctantly down to the dining room. Last night’s dinner had been stupendous in its awfulness. Mrs Granger had made a shepherd’s pie, but I think even a starving shepherd would have struggled with it. The meat was half cold, the gravy congealed, and the potatoes hard. I’d taken one bite and switched to drinking my dinner in the form of red wine.
Oz had blanched and caught my eye in a moment of shared hilarity. He’d then stuck to bread and butter. Milo had eaten the whole thing placidly and with no sign of discomfort. However, I’ve eaten at his family home and their cook makes Mrs Granger look like Delia Smith.
I look up as Niall falls into step beside me. “I haven’t seen you all day. Busy one?” I ask.
He grunts. “The busiest. A meeting this morning with the tenants, and this afternoon the fence came down in the bottom field and some of the deer got out.”
“Did you get them all back?”
He nods. “After an hour chasing them. They were like Bambi on fucking acid.”
I laugh but then we come to the door and by mutual accord we both stop and draw in deep bolstering breaths. “You ready?” he mutters.
“No,” I say honestly. “But it’s got to be done.”
We both square our shoulders and walk in. Oz looks up from his seat where he’s been staring at that bulging diary of his with Chewwy at his side, as normal. He offers us his wide smile that always seems to me to have the sweetest edge to it. It’s almost lost in the wicked sparkle of his eyes, but the soft curve of his lips gives it away every time. I falter slightly, and Niall gives me a very knowing look.
“Alright there, Silas, or did you start drinking early tonight?”
“All the better to eat dinner,” I mutter and Oz shudders.
“Last night was bad,” he whispers.
I nod emphatically. “You can say that again.”
“Last night was bad,” he dutifully says, and I shake my head at him.
He grins and gets up. Chewwy immediately leaps to his feet like they’re connected by an invisible rope.
“Wait. Where are you going?” I ask in a far too panicked voice.
He looks at me strangely. “To tell them they can serve dinner.”
“Oh. Okay,” I falter. “Yes, that sounds good. Thank you.”
Niall snorts and I send him a death glare. “Shut up,” I mutter.
“I certainly will. Not talking will allow me to enjoy this whole thing so much more.”
“What whole thing?”
“You two. It’s like watching elephants mate. Dangerous, messy, and uncomfortable, but ever so slightly sweet.”
I shake my head, but the door opens and Milo appears holding two plates, one of which he slides in front of me. I cross myself. “Deliver me from–” I begin to say and stop dead. “What the hell is this?” I breathe.
Milo looks in a puzzled fashion at my plate. “It’s seafood pie,” he says in the manner of a person talking to someone slow, or inthe manner of Oz. He then blushes profusely. “I’m so sorry, Lord Ashworth. I mean it’s seafood pie.”
I smile up at him. “Silas please, Milo. What I meant to say is this looks like–” I look towards the kitchen door. “It looks edible,” I whisper.
He looks even more confused. “If you say so, Lord… I mean S-S-Silas. I suppose so.”
I look down at the dish where the pie sits steaming fragrantly. The fish is cooked in a creamy sauce packed with prawns shining pinkly, while the piped potatoes are topped heavily with cheese. Then I look at Niall. “Is this some sort of alternate dimension we’ve entered?” I hold up my hand. “No, don’t say anything. You might yank us back to the dimension where Mrs Granger can’t cook.”
“Oh, Mrs Granger didn’t make this,” Milo says happily.
