Stamp Part 4

I gave them their drinks and then went back to the kitchen to make sure everything was all right. Laurel came in and sat at the kitchen table and chatted. She wanted to know when I was leaving and she was happy when I told her that his parents had organised a car for me on Thursday afternoon, just after lunch.

She asked how he had been and I just said that he had been himself, nothing more and nothing less, leaving it up to her to make of it what she will. I was preparing the starters when she said that she hoped to be living here soon and I just said that it would be nice for her not to have to go home. I was slow cooking beef cheeks for the main course with a range of vegetables and finished off my special gravy which, when I tasted it, needed just a little more salt.

We got the four of them sat at the dining table which had his normal crockery and cutlery set out. I don’t think he noticed the difference but I could see that Laurel looked at me oddly as she sat next to him and opposite her mother. The first course was leek soup with some extra spice and they were very appreciative. I brought out the beef cheeks and the containers of vegetables and, finally, a gravy boat of my special concoction.

Now, I must say that the mother was really a stepmother and only a few years older than Laurel. She was quite a good looking woman against the much older, and probably richer, spouse. I was pouring more drinks as they started to eat and I saw the mothers’ eyes light up when she tasted the gravy. Laurel put her fork down and turned to me in anger. “How did you get this taste, bitch? What have you two been doing behind my back?” Her mother reached over and put her hand on her stepdaughters arm and said, “What every red-bloodied couple would do, cooped up within these walls. I must say that she got the taste exactly right, it takes my mind back a little while.”

Laurel then turned on her mother screaming “Not you as well? Has every woman I know given my fiancé a blow job?” Her mother pointed out that he was not her fiancé as he had never proposed. She put the knife right in when she said “You are just his current lay.” Laurel then went incandescent and stormed out of the room. Her mother said “Thank you for that, Francine, she needed to be brought back to earth. Moose here is no more husband material than we are.” I was amazed that she then went back to eating her main course, savouring the gravy with every mouthful. The father and the boyfriend just shrugged at each other and carried on as if nothing had happened.

Laurel came back in as they were having a cup of coffee. She had a big bag which had pieces of clothing poking out of it as if it had been hastily packed. She said “Right, we’re off and I’m never coming back!” Her mother got up and went to Moose, kissed him on the cheek and whispered in his ear. He smiled broadly and I just heard the words “Friday, then.” He led the father and daughter to the door and the mother came up to me and said “Thank you, Francine. That was never going anywhere. You got the taste spot on and I am getting a little wet thinking about when I come back.” She joined her husband and linked her arm in his and they went off to catch up with the jilted daughter who was probably waiting for them in the lobby by now.

Moose closed the door and stood by it with his head resting on the wood. He then turned around and said “Beautiful, wicked, a great chef and a truly devious bitch. You are the whole package rolled up in one and don’t tell me that it was me that created you. There must have been lots of that there already, waiting to be launched into the world. I do have to thank you, it was a master stroke and I think I could kiss you.” I said “So what’s holding you back, then, you are now officially between lays.”

He came to me and took me in his arms and gave me the most toe-tingling kiss I have ever experienced. He said, “Forget the dishes, we have other things to do” and he pulled me into his bedroom which now looked like a bomb had hit it. The sheets were slashed and torn and he said “That’s good, they will have to go in the bin anyway so it doesn’t matter what stains they get tonight.” We undressed and that night we officially became a gay couple, but only for one night and not for anyone else to ever find out.

The sun was shining through the windows when we woke in a bundle of now-stained sheets. I got out of bed and kissed him before going to my room to shower him off me, wash my hair and get ready to leave, leaving his credit card on the dresser. With my case at the door I made us some brunch and we ate a couple of the desserts that had not been eaten last night. We kissed as I left for the next part of this strange and wonderful adventure. Leaving him with the dishes, of course; I was off-duty, wasn’t I?

The car waiting outside was a Jaguar with the right permits stuck on the front window. The driver was wearing a suit and he got out as I emerged from the building. He took my bag and put it in the boot and opened the back door for me to get in. I was running on instinct now and trawling my memories for how women act and I did manage to get into the car without showing my panties. The driver was very chatty as we left the city, telling me that ‘Her Ladyship’ had been very taken with my cooking. I had to tell him that some of what I cook is taken from real experience and not for everybody.

About sixty miles north we pulled in between two massive gate-posts and up a long drive to park in front of a mansion. He helped me out and took my bag out of the boot, giving it to a maid who had come out to take it. “Maggie will take it up to your room” he said “She won’t find any of Algernons’ silverware in it, I hope.” I said that there were a few containers with my kitchen implements in the case but I had left Algernon with his silverware.

We followed the maid into the building and through a massive entry hall. She went upstairs with my case and we carried on towards the back of the house where the décor and furnishings became much friendlier once we went through a door marked ‘Private. Owners Residence.’ We found her Ladyship sitting at a kitchen table, up to her elbows in flour and with a perplexed look on her face.

“Ah! Francine, I hope you are as good at baking as you are with other things. I seem to have got lost between the cream and the eggs. My poor brain isn’t what it used to be.” I said that if she could wait for a while I would go and change and then come down to take over. The driver led me up to my room where the maid was hanging my things. “Lovely clothes, madam” she said “but where are the rest.” I told her that I was travelling light at the moment as all of my old stuff was wherever the airline had left it and that they couldn’t tell me where that was. When she left I changed out of my dress and put on my dark pants and chef tunic, gathered up my hair in a bun and hid it under a cap. With my containers of special tools I found my way back to the kitchen.

Her Ladyship – call me Edith in private – had given up and made a pot of tea. We sat and sipped while I found out what was expected of me over the weekend. There was to be an afternoon tea for the group organisers on Friday afternoon, followed by a formal dinner for thirty on Saturday evening. The butler would be in charge of the drinks and I would be looking after the meal, with three undercooks to do the hard work. There were six local girls hired to serve. All very doable, I thought.

I asked about the regular cook and was told that she had dropped a large pot of soup on her foot, breaking some bones and getting a bad burn. She would not be back for at least a month. Edith left me to my own devices and I looked over the kitchen. It was pretty well equipped, with three Aga’s and a restaurant sized cook-top. The pantry was well filled and I found the cold room with the meats and other frozen goods. When I came out of the cold room I found three other ladies in smocks and aprons waiting for me.

These were, I discovered, the usual cooks who were all sisters. They were Violet, Daisy and Ivy. Their eldest sister, Rose, was the main cook who was now indisposed. Violets’ daughter was the maid Marguerite, otherwise known as Maggie, and her husband was Ronnie, the butler. They told me that they usually cooked for large numbers of guests and then ate the left-overs after serving out. I told them that when I was in charge, we would cook them each a proper meal so they could appreciate what the customers would be getting after they had tasted it.

That afternoon we made cakes and cooked the evening meal for the household, everyone sitting down properly in their respective rooms. The cooks were amazed at how I could take an ordinary meal and turn it into something much better. The day would start easy for me as the other three were dab hands at kippers and kedgeree, eggs and bacon and lots of tea and coffee. I must say that they had done very well when I tasted it as it would grace any good Breakfast Bistro. After we had tidied up we got into making sure we had all the cakes, buns and scones needed for this afternoon and then produced a light lunch for everyone in the house. That afternoon we were able to serve our guests and I was introduced to some of the other ladies with the comment “Wait until you taste her gravy, it is very different.”

Marianne G 2021