Free Second Night by Gabriel J Klein Page A

unbearable. He abandoned his work in the observatory and crept down the stairs to his bedroom. Climbing fully clothed into the four-poster bed, he cowered under the covers until grey light outlined the patterns on the yellow curtains and the pain lessened.

CHAPTER 12
    Weekend duties at the manor house had been a lot easier on Daisy and Maddie since Jemima had started working in the kitchen, giving each of them more time to catch up on the never-ending lists of chores that were always waiting when they went home. John decided he should be on duty while Jasper was working in the office, just in case the boy needed a helping hand, which meant that Jemima was sent back to the lodge as soon as all the most urgent jobs were done.
    â€˜One of you youngsters under my feet is quite enough at any given time,’ said Daisy firmly.
    Jemima wasn’t sorry. It didn’t make any difference to her wages and life at home had definitely looked up since Sara had moved in. Maddie talked a lot more, Caz smiled more and Jasper was a hundred times easier to live with. Sunday mornings had quickly evolved into ‘girls’ mornings’ when they baked bread and cakes for the coming week and prepared the lunch together.
    Sara scooped a ladleful of melted fat into the enormous iron pot on the stove. ‘I didn’t think pans like this existed any more. Where did you get it?’
    â€˜We found it in one of the sculleries at the house,’ said Jemima.
    â€˜But what did they use it for?’
    â€˜Daisy says it was used on harvest days when everyone was working in the fields. We call it the Hugely Hungry Stew Pot.’
    â€˜So what are we going to make?’
    Maddie smiled. ‘Hugely hungry stew.’
    â€˜What are we going to put in it?’
    â€˜Everything we can find,’ said Jemima.
    Maddie stirred a bowlful of meat into the fat that was already starting to spit in the bottom of the pot. Jemima fetched bags of lentils and pearl barley from the pantry and put a big basket of vegetables on the table. Sara set the knives on the chopping boards and sat down, pushing the blue-eyed cat off the chair. ‘Go away, Kresh. We’ve got work to do.’
    The cat jumped onto her lap, nosing up around her ears, purring in a rising crescendo of rumbling delight. The green-eyed cat, crouching among the dishes on the top of the dresser, promptly leapt down and landed on her shoulders.
    â€˜This is too much!’ she exclaimed, pushing away the cat on her lap and clutching unsuccessfully at the other one who was wrapping himself around her neck and digging his claws into her sweater. ‘I can understand Kresh for crescendo, but why is this uncomfortable animal now called Kush?’
    He had been ‘the green one’ since the evening in the spring when Alan and Jasper had found the two white kittens abandoned at the northeast gate and brought them to live at the lodge. The little female had been named in a matter of days while Jemima tried out a list of names for the male kitten, none of which he would answer to. She pointed to the bulge of torn material in the rocking chair by the window. ‘He’s Kush for cushion-clawer. He likes it.’
    â€˜That doesn’t sound like a Jas brand,’ said Sara, finally ridding herself of the cat.
    â€˜No, it was Caz this time.’
    Maddie tipped more logs into the fire. Jemima crouched in front of the grate, watching the flames.
    â€˜Is there anything interesting?’ asked Sara.
    Jemima stood up. ‘Only a skull. It’s easy to see skulls in the fire. They don’t mean anything.’
    Kush stalked the top of the open pantry door. Kresh curled up on an old coat on the hearth. Jemima poured fresh grounds into the coffee maker. Sara began preparing vegetables.
    â€˜Isn’t this delightfully domestic?’ she said happily.
    â€˜If you say so,’ said Jemima.
    â€˜I wonder where domesticity stops being a pleasure and