"Cooking is at once child's play and adult joy. And cooking done with care is an act of love." Craig Claiborne
----
VIII.
"Lily Beresford!"
Lily had rehearsed what she was going to say to her family. She had already practised on the driver who had come to collect her from Brunswick Street. She needed a plausible story as she was in quite a state.
After his shock and anger had briefly waned, Mr McCarthy had offered to summon a doctor to look over Lily for any signs of injury. But save for a badly bruised ego and a terrible fright, Lily did not feel as though she had suffered any permanent harm.
Her aunt and Maria were both in the entry foyer when Lily returned home that afternoon, and they were given a full view of the spectacle that Lily had made of herself.
Lily was certainly filthy. Her dress was stained grey and black from the smoke in the room and every inch of her smelt of the fire. She had not caught her reflection as yet, but judging by the colour of her hands, she knew that her face would be far from clean.
The look on her aunt's face made Lily long for her mother. Claire looked so much like Grace, and seeing someone so similar to her mother, without being her, hurt Lily in that moment. She had been terrified after her efforts to stifle the fire had only made things worse.
Lily was not certain if she feared for her life in that moment. Had the thought crossed her mind that she might die? She didn't know. But the fear that she was being punished for her deception certainly did. It was as though God was chastising her.
But Lily had had ample time to think and to re-evaluate her decisions throughout the day, and she thought back to the instinct that she had felt when Mr McCarthy had angrily tried to dismiss her. It was the absolute last thing that Lily wanted. She wasn't ready to give up this freedom. She had made this decision to venture out into the world for a reason, and she had many lessons to learn.
This was a very important one, apparently.
Lily had decided to be as honest as she could about the fire without incriminating herself. She figured that was a way to bend the rules around the sin a little. Perhaps her logic was entirely warped, but it made sense to her in that moment.
Claire seized hold of Lily's face between her hands and appraised her seriously with furrowed brows. "What on earth has happened to you? Are you well? Maria, ring the bell. We must have the doctor sent for immediately. Lord, the smell of smoke. What has happened?" Claire stressed.
Before her cousin could scurry away to obey her mother's command, Lily caught her. "Maria, wait!"
Maria paused, peering back at Lily with a look of confusion.
"I am well, I promise," Lily assured them. "I know I do not look like it, or smell like it, but I am. I tried to make a pot of tea today ... and I ended up causing a small fire."
It was the truth. Mostly.
"You started a fire?" Claire exclaimed.
"Making tea?" added Maria with an equal tone of alarm.
"Nobody was hurt, and thankfully it was brought under control quite quickly, but as you see, I am in need of a bath."
Claire released Lily after a moment and seemed to accept her story with a slow nod. That did not alleviate her concern, however. "Why were you making tea?"
"I was attempting to widen my skillset and I wanted to make a pot for my tutor. Foolishly, I asked myself, 'how hard can it be?'" Again, it was the truth. Mostly.
"My goodness, you girls are very far removed from how your mother and I grew up," Claire murmured to herself. "But what will your parents say to this? Your father will skin us alive when he learns about this, Lily."
"It was nobody's fault but my own," Lily replied. "I will write Papa and Mama and tell them myself." In a footnote. In tiny writing. And then she would smudge it with her finger.
"Maria, do you know how to light a stove?" Claire suddenly asked her daughter.
Maria shook her head as she clamped her lips together.
Claire appeared quite shocked at the confession, and she placed her hands on her hips. "Every day of my life, until I married your father, I rose out of bed before dawn, baked bread, made tea, laundered clothing ... and now my own flesh and blood do not even know how to boil water.
"When Jackie returns home, the three of you are to go straight down to the kitchen with me and I am going to teach you how to light the stove and make tea. I am certain there is a law written somewhere that you are not allowed to live in this country if you cannot brew tea."
A smile spread across Lily's face. This was exactly what she needed, and she thought that she was going to have to invent a reason to ask her uncle's cook for guidance. But her aunt, instead, was going to teach the three girls herself.
It was a simple skill, to be sure. But it was one that she lacked because she had lived so sheltered a life. She was anxious and eager for new.
***
After bathing, soaking the smoke from her hair, and scrubbing every inch of her soot covered skin, Lily felt clean. Her aunt had kept to her word, and her uncle had joined them in the kitchen out of amusement.
Claire had waited until after dinner, when the servants had finished in the kitchen and they were not in the way, before she began her lesson. Jack had seated himself at the servants' dining table and watched as though he was viewing a show at the theatre.
"Don't you sit over there with a wicked grin on your face!" Claire chastised Jack as she waved him over. "You ought to learn, too! People ought to be able to boil water. We have been doing it for centuries and now we have modern contraptions that allow us to do it in an indoor kitchen."
Jack snickered, but he obliged Claire and joined his two daughters and his niece before Claire. Claire motioned to the large stove, and said, "This is a stove."
"What?" exclaimed Jack, smacking his hand over his mouth. "All these years, I thought it was an armoire. I hate to think how many pairs of socks I have lost to this contraption over the years."
Jackie, Maria, and Lily all giggled at their uncle's teasing. Claire managed a small smirk as her blue eyes narrowed. "You be careful now, dear. I would hate for you to get lost inside of it." Claire shook her head and took a breath. "As I was saying. Stove. The first thing you must do is check the firebox for any remnants of the previous fire. It must be clean." Claire opened a small door on the front of the stove and checked inside, before she allowed the three girls and Jack to peek inside. "As you can see, our kitchen maids are excellent at their craft, and it is perfectly prepared for a new fire."
Above the stove was a pipe that reminded Lily of a chimney. This was what her aunt reached for next when she pulled a small lever from the pipe.
"This is called a damper," she explained. "The damper lets in air, and you need it fully open to begin your fire, and once it has begun, you use the damper to control the fire."
"It certainly doesn't put a dampener on how hot and bothered –"
"Hush!" snapped Claire with a flare of her eyes. Jack seemed mightily amused, and Lily felt as though a joke had flown by her and she'd missed it. She had certainly been hot and bothered earlier that day as that was what happened when one was around a fire. "Make yourself useful and collect some wood for me."
Jack brushed past Claire and kissed her temple quickly, before he collected some kindling and firewood from beside the stove. Claire's attention had returned to the firebox, and she showed them all how to assemble the wood and kindling correctly. After assembling it in a pyramid shape, Claire then struck a match, and very carefully started a flame.
As Lily watched her aunt move meticulously, and safely, she could not believe her own folly in thinking that one could simply shove a kettle in a hearth and not expect consequences. Her own foolishness had nearly cost Mr McCarthy dearly. It was challenging to sit with that guilt.
Had she not been deceiving everyone in the first place, the fire never would have happened. But Lily did not want to give up this foray into the real world, and she knew that was selfish.
Regardless if what had happened could have been prevented, it had been a terrible accident. Lily had never meant for it to happen, and her remorse was keen, indeed. Once again, it was a lesson learned, and she would do everything in her power to make it up to Mr McCarthy. She would work for free if she had to.
Once Claire was satisfied with the fire, she collected a kettle and filled it with water and placed it atop the stove. "As the fire burns, you must check it to keep it going. You might need to add more wood to it. Depending on how hot you want the fire to burn, you adjust the damper. If you want to dull the heat, close it little by little."
Lily had watched the entire demonstration with wide, curious eyes, and she endeavoured to commit everything to memory. She was not certain if she was brave enough to make tea for Mr McCarthy the following day, but if he asked, she would be able to. Something told her that he wouldn't ask. Judging by the way he had looked upon her, Lily wagered that Mr McCarthy viewed her as quite a fool.
Lily had not given him many reasons to think the contrary. She was naïve, but not a fool, and she would convince him of that.
Jackie spooned tealeaves into a teapot, and Maria used a cloth to protect her hand from the hot handle once the water had boiled. She carried it over to the bench and poured the water into the teapot to let it steep.
The five of them all stared at the teapot then as steam gently puffed out of the spout.
"You did that every day, Mama?" Jackie remarked.
"Yes," Claire confirmed. "Every day. I would bake and cook using the stove in Grandmamma Denham's house, and I would feed your uncles and Grandmamma whatever I'd managed to procure that day."
"That's why they married her off to me, girls. Mama was a dreadful cook, and they were desperate to get her out of there. Uncle Jem doesn't speak of the time that Mama nearly poisoned him with a mutton stew." Jack wrapped his arms around Claire with a grin as he cuddled her to his chest.
Jackie and Maria laughed, as Lily smiled at the sign of affection from her uncle.
"I was a very good cook!" Claire protested, smirking up at Jack. "You're only jealous that I never cooked for you."
"I don't want to die by stew poisoning." Jack shrugged his shoulders.
"Mama, you ought to make us supper one night!" Maria encouraged. "Perhaps we could help. Bread cannot be that hard, can it? It's just a ... a lump."
Claire groaned. "Does your mother ever talk about the suppers I prepared when she was still living at home with us, Lily?"
"All the time, Aunt Claire."
"You're a dreadful liar, dear," laughed Claire.
----
I remember when I learned to cook. I remember the first meal I made by myself. Lamb chops, mashed potatoes and veg. Everything was ready and different times and there was something wrong with every element on the plate.
But I kept trying, trial and error, and now cooking is one of my favourite things to do. I look forward to when it's time to prepare dinner and I live for the "mmmm's" I get from people who eat my food. I made a proper British roast dinner the other night for bf, bf's family, and his best friend, and they're all sitting there just in heaven telling me I needed to write a cookbook and then proceeded to ask me for the recipe to my humble yorkshire puddings hehehehe
I made slow cooked bbq pork spare ribs for dinner tonight and they were *chef's kiss*
My work actually had a baking competition this year and I won it by entering my slow cooked lamb and rosemary pies :)
Cooking is fun! Lily, Jackie, Maria, you should try it sometime!!
I went from not being able to mash a potato to the birria tacos that are on the menu on Sunday night. Can't wait!
I'm hungry now lol.
Okay, now for the bad news. This will be my last chapter of the school holidays. They've come to an end sadly. The next chapter I'll post will be next Saturday night like normal.
I'm off to bed. Need to get my sleep schedule back before back to work on Monday boooooooooo :(
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