Page 11
“Frances, Mara,” he said with a nod to each of them. “How is everything?”
“The brie and spiced winter chutney sandwich is particularly good,” Mara replied. “Isn’t it, Frances?”
Frances nodded as she swallowed the last of her scone.
“And the tea is delicious,” Mara added.
“The lebkuchen was a delightful addition,” Frances said. “I’m glad you took my advice.”
“Always happy to take your direction, Frances.” Gary grinned. “So... no complaints?”
“Well,” she began. She’d offered the obligatory compliment; now came the real feedback.
Shifting his stance, he folded his arms.
“Get rid of these horrible plastic pots of clotted cream,” Frances replied, holding up the scraped-clean container.
Gary opened his mouth to speak, but Frances got in first.
“I know they are convenient and no doubt save on washing up, but I also know that they cost more per gram than a tub and an ice cream scoop. Which is, in fact, the appropriate amount of clotted cream to offer for a scone — not forty grams.”
“We were just trialling the individual portions.”
“Winterbourne Hall has always prided itself on its afternoon teas. We are not a café in Skegness. Let’s not make ourselves look like one.”
“Otherwise... okay?” he asked.
“Delicious... if only you would use butter in the sandwiches and not margarine. It is no substitute and a health hazard.”
He nodded. “Perhaps we could discuss the catering budget in the new year?”
“Let’s see if we survive Christmas first.”
Gary nodded as Frances pushed back her chair and stood.
“How’s your mum?” he asked. “She used to be quite the regular, but I’ve not seen her for ages.”
“Busy with her retirement. You know Mum; she barely sits still. Lots of charity work,” Frances lied, catching the interested look on Mara’s face at the mention of her mum.
“Wish her well for me,” Gary said.
“Will do.”
With a nod, he scurried off, leaving Frances to quickly put on her coat. The last thing she wanted was for Mara to ask after her mum, too, now that the subject had come up.
They made their way across the courtyard and back to the shop, finding it heaving with visitors.
“I’m going to seek out Judith,” Frances said, holding the door open for Mara. “She wasn’t at the heads of department meeting.”
“Good idea. I have a disciplinary meeting to chair.” Mara rolled her eyes.
Frances’s mouth twitched. “I’m so glad staffing is now your responsibility and not mine.”
“I bet you are,” Mara smirked. “See you later.”
Threading herself through the hum of voices and bodies, Frances found Judith stacking some snow globe baubles, with little Winterbourne Halls inside them, onto a shelf. She made a mental note to buy one for her mum.
“Is everything okay, Judith? You didn’t make the meeting.”
