Page 5 of The House at Hope Corner
‘Don’t take any nonsense, Flora,’ said Fraser, and with a slight wave of his hand, picked up his jacket and followed Ned out of the door.
Flora swallowed the last of her tea and pushed her chair away from the table. ‘I’ll wash up, shall I?’ she volunteered.
Hannah exchanged a look with Caroline. ‘I’ll show you where everything is,’ she said. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve had much of an opportunity to find out yourself.’
Flora had no idea what time Caroline had arrived at the house, but Hannah at least would be very well aware that Flora had found her way around several things that morning, namely the cake tin and the fridge. Someone had washed up her things from earlier and Flora doubted it was Caroline.
She smiled her assent. ‘Thank you, just as long as I’m not holding you up?’
‘In doing what, dear? Goodness me, no. You won’t be holding me up, you’ll be helping me. I said to Ned last night that I would make sure that by the end of the day you knew exactly what was expected. It will take you a while to get used to it all, I don’t doubt, but the sooner you get going, the sooner it will all become second nature.’
‘Well, that’s very kind, but I’m sure I’ll be okay on my own. You must have other things you’d like to do?’
Caroline gave a tinkly laugh. ‘Oh, you are sweet,’ she said, coming across the room to give Flora’s arm a light rub. ‘Ned hasn’t told you a thing, has he? But you really are in very capable hands, so I will leave Hannah to show you the ropes, but if you need anything else then you must give me a call. In fact, do that anyway, it will be wonderful to get to know you better.’ She turned back to Hannah. ‘Breakfast was lovely as always, thank you so much.’
‘It’s a pleasure,’ replied Hannah. ‘I expect we’ll see you tomorrow anyway, but give my love to your parents, dear.’
And then there were just the two of them, her and Hannah, standing in the kitchen looking at one another. Hannah pushed up her sleeves.
‘Well, thank heavens for that,’ she said. ‘Lovely girl, but honestly, sometimes I think she spends more time at our house than she does her own… Now, how about another nice cup of tea before we make a start, what do you think?’
‘Lovely…’ muttered Flora weakly, wishing it wasn’t so early so she could have something stronger.
* * *
The frying pan looked like it had already done a lifetime of service, and Flora scrubbed at it one more time before passing it to Hannah to dry. It was the last of the things to be washed up and Flora pulled the plug from the sink in relief. She had never seen so much congealed fat, and the smell of it would take some getting used to.
During the last ten minutes she had learned that breakfast was at ten. Well, the proper big breakfast, that was; Ned would have porridge and toast when he got up at about five in the morning. Lunch was at one o’clock (soup and sandwiches) and then tea was at six (a hearty meal obviously) with supper following at nine. Nothing fancy, said Hannah, usually just cake or crumpets, although at the times of year when the men were very busy, they wouldn’t get back until around eleven, so supper was often foregone.
Flora found her head bobbing up and down like a nodding dog’s as Hannah imparted information to her in a never-ending rapid-fire monologue, and it left her feeling like the new girl on her first day at work; woefully inept and massively out of her depth. She tried to listen, but her head kept saying other things to her; rebellious thoughts that had no place in the new life that Hannah had envisaged for her. It certainly wasn’t Flora’s idea of how life as a model farmer’s wife should be.
Apart from the very obvious question of where all the food came from, and who would be buying it, was the equally pressing one of who would be cooking it. Flora was an okay cook, she was even pretty good at some things, but she certainly wasn’t used to cooking around the clock like this, or in such quantity. How did people eat so much food? She was used to eating when she was hungry, nibbling here and there between serving customers in her shop. Here mealtimes were clearly an integral part of a regimen that she would be expected to follow. She couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if she didn’t…
Picking up the dishcloth once more, Flora gave the sink a final wipe and then went to dry her hands on the towel which hung over the Aga’s rail. She was aware of Hannah checking her watch and she hastily finished what she was doing, turning around and mustering a bright smile.
‘Right, what’s next?’ she said.
Hannah led her over to the door beside the Aga.
‘In here is the pantry, where I keep all the tinned and dry goods, together with my stock of jams and relishes, jellies and chutneys. We’re fortunate that the farm has a good stock of fruit trees and our hedgerows provide a plentiful bounty too, so I use whatever is available seasonally.’
Flora gazed at the rows and rows of jars that lined the shelves, all neatly labelled.
‘It’s just how I imagined Brambly Hedge to be,’ said Flora. ‘I didn’t realise people still did this…’
Hannah frowned. ‘Brambly Hedge?’
‘Yes, the books… you know the children’s stories…?’
Hannah shook her head.
‘They’re mice… who live in the hollows of trees and…’ Flora trailed off when she saw Hannah’s expression. ‘Sorry… they’re just lovely stories, beautiful illustrations…’ She cleared her throat. ‘This is lovely,’ she finished lamely.
‘Yes, well, we don’t have money to buy inferior-quality shop-bought goods. We use as much of our own produce as we can…’
Flora nodded. ‘It makes much more sense…’
Hannah’s lips were still pursed. ‘Anyway, I have already made the bread for today as I wasn’t sure we would have the time this morning. You do make bread, don’t you?’
