Read Online Twelve Days of Christmas by Trisha Ashley - Free Book Online
Authors: Trisha Ashley
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Christmas – and that’s another problem, because my aunt and uncle were looking forward to having Christmas dinner with the Chirks and I felt better knowing Tilda wouldn’t have to cook it. I know she still does most of their cooking, but she’s looking quite frail these days.’
‘Yes, so she said, but I don’t think she’s going to attempt the full monty – they’re having a roast chicken instead,’ I said. ‘And I expect her granddaughter will help her.’
‘Oh God, I’d entirely forgotten about Jess being there on her own this year!’
‘Mmm . . . I’m afraid you don’t seem to be her favourite person at the moment, Mr Martland.’
There was a pause, and then he suggested, ‘Perhaps you could cook the Christmas dinner instead of the Chirks? You can cook?’
‘I’m a professional chef, that’s what I do during the summer,’ I said icily, ‘and my charges are very high. In winter I prefer to house-sit for a rest. Catering for family dinner parties doesn’t come into my current plans and besides, as I’ve said, I don’t celebrate Christmas in any way.’
‘But—’
‘Mr Martland,’ I interrupted firmly, ‘while I’m sorry your arrangements have been put out, you can rest assured that I’ll keep an eye on your property and look after the animals until your return on Twelfth Night.’
‘But how can I be sure of that when I know nothing about you, except that you have no knowledge of horses and—’
‘Look,’ I said, ‘you don’t have any alternative! If you think I’m going to drink your gin and fall into a drunken coma over Christmas, neglecting the animals and burning the house down, I suggest you email Ellen for my CV and references. Good night , Mr Martland.’
And I slammed down the receiver.
I regretted my lapse into rudeness almost immediately. It must have been tiredness, but also there was something about his manner that rubbed me up the wrong way. While a bit of snappishness might be allowable in a cook of my calibre, provided I produced delicious meals, which I always did, it’s not such a good idea with house-sitting clients.
The phone rang again almost immediately. Sighing, I picked it up.
‘You hung up on me!’ he said incredulously.
‘I’m sorry, but the conversation seemed to have run its natural course. Now, it’s been a long day and I was just on my way to bed . . . Oh, and by the way,’ I added as an afterthought, ‘your cleaner has resigned, with effect from today. But going by the filthy state of the house, I daresay you’ll hardly notice.’
This time when I put the phone down, he didn’t ring back. I filled my hot water bottle, patted Merlin, and took myself off up to bed where, despite my exhaustion, I found myself going over and over the conversation with the irritating and unreasonable Jude Martland. I would be sure to leave long before he came home on Twelfth Night!
In the end I switched on the bedside lamp and read a few more entries in Gran’s journal until, soothed by the small dramas of the hospital ward and her battles with her awful landlady, I finally fell asleep.
Chapter 6
Horse Sense
A new case has arrived on Pearl’s ward – a bad leg wound and they are trying penicillin on it, which seems to be doing the trick. The patient is a young man and apparently a member of a local gentry family. Pearl and the others were whispering and giggling about him and how good looking he was, though I told them it was what was on the inside that mattered, not the outside. But I am ashamed to say that, stirred by curiosity, I peeped in later to see what all the fuss was about and Sister nearly caught me!
January, 1945
After breakfast next morning I checked on Lady and her smelly little companion, fed them a few chunks of carrot, then clipped back the top of the stable door to the courtyard.
They both looked fine, but I thought I would leave them where they were until it was fully light and took Merlin for a walk up Snowehill.
‘Yes, so she said, but I don’t think she’s going to attempt the full monty – they’re having a roast chicken instead,’ I said. ‘And I expect her granddaughter will help her.’
‘Oh God, I’d entirely forgotten about Jess being there on her own this year!’
‘Mmm . . . I’m afraid you don’t seem to be her favourite person at the moment, Mr Martland.’
There was a pause, and then he suggested, ‘Perhaps you could cook the Christmas dinner instead of the Chirks? You can cook?’
‘I’m a professional chef, that’s what I do during the summer,’ I said icily, ‘and my charges are very high. In winter I prefer to house-sit for a rest. Catering for family dinner parties doesn’t come into my current plans and besides, as I’ve said, I don’t celebrate Christmas in any way.’
‘But—’
‘Mr Martland,’ I interrupted firmly, ‘while I’m sorry your arrangements have been put out, you can rest assured that I’ll keep an eye on your property and look after the animals until your return on Twelfth Night.’
‘But how can I be sure of that when I know nothing about you, except that you have no knowledge of horses and—’
‘Look,’ I said, ‘you don’t have any alternative! If you think I’m going to drink your gin and fall into a drunken coma over Christmas, neglecting the animals and burning the house down, I suggest you email Ellen for my CV and references. Good night , Mr Martland.’
And I slammed down the receiver.
I regretted my lapse into rudeness almost immediately. It must have been tiredness, but also there was something about his manner that rubbed me up the wrong way. While a bit of snappishness might be allowable in a cook of my calibre, provided I produced delicious meals, which I always did, it’s not such a good idea with house-sitting clients.
The phone rang again almost immediately. Sighing, I picked it up.
‘You hung up on me!’ he said incredulously.
‘I’m sorry, but the conversation seemed to have run its natural course. Now, it’s been a long day and I was just on my way to bed . . . Oh, and by the way,’ I added as an afterthought, ‘your cleaner has resigned, with effect from today. But going by the filthy state of the house, I daresay you’ll hardly notice.’
This time when I put the phone down, he didn’t ring back. I filled my hot water bottle, patted Merlin, and took myself off up to bed where, despite my exhaustion, I found myself going over and over the conversation with the irritating and unreasonable Jude Martland. I would be sure to leave long before he came home on Twelfth Night!
In the end I switched on the bedside lamp and read a few more entries in Gran’s journal until, soothed by the small dramas of the hospital ward and her battles with her awful landlady, I finally fell asleep.
Chapter 6
Horse Sense
A new case has arrived on Pearl’s ward – a bad leg wound and they are trying penicillin on it, which seems to be doing the trick. The patient is a young man and apparently a member of a local gentry family. Pearl and the others were whispering and giggling about him and how good looking he was, though I told them it was what was on the inside that mattered, not the outside. But I am ashamed to say that, stirred by curiosity, I peeped in later to see what all the fuss was about and Sister nearly caught me!
January, 1945
After breakfast next morning I checked on Lady and her smelly little companion, fed them a few chunks of carrot, then clipped back the top of the stable door to the courtyard.
They both looked fine, but I thought I would leave them where they were until it was fully light and took Merlin for a walk up Snowehill.
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