Читать книгу Recipes for Love and Murder - Sally Andrew - Страница 22

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

‘You’re here bright and early this morning, Tannie Maria,’ said Hattie as I walked into the office. ‘Bee in your bonnet?’

The heat had not yet settled onto the day, and the ceiling fan was off.

‘I can’t ignore all the other people who write letters, just because some are in trouble or dead.’

I put Martine and Anna’s letters and a Tupperware with two big pieces of chocolate cake onto my desk, and picked up a pile of envelopes and some pages of email printouts. I heard Jessie’s scooter arriving and I turned on the kettle. Then I sorted through my post. It was important to start the day with the right letter.

‘Haai, Hattie and Tannie M,’ said Jessie. ‘What’s up?’

She was eying my Tupperware. You couldn’t see through it, but Jessie had a sixth sense when it came to cake.

‘Sorry, my skat, it’s for Anna and Kannemeyer. Could you make copies of these on your scanner thingy?’ I handed her the letters. ‘So I can give the originals to the detective.’ I rattled the rusk tin to distract her from the cake, but it only had crumbs in it. ‘Coffee?’

Once we all had our coffee and tea and no rusks, I chose a plain brown envelope with a thumbprint of black grease next to the Riversdale postmark. Riversdale is a big town, about a hundred kilometres away. Well, not really big, just not as small as Ladismith.

The letter was from a guy in trouble, who signed his name as Karel. He had a lot to learn, but he seemed willing, and I did my best to help. Dear Tannie Maria,

I am writing to you for love advice. Don’t bother with the recipes. I can’t even boil an egg.

I met this girl at a Brandy Festival and I like her a lot. She has eyes that sparkle, and an amazing smile. Her name is Lucia. We sat together at a wooden table and I hardly said a word but I offered her my slap chips and she ate some.

When she smiled at me, I felt like a bunch of birds was trying to fly out of my chest.

I wanted to say something but I couldn’t.

I am a mechanic, and my fingernails are always a bit black, no matter how much I scrub them. Lucia is clean and smells so good. She is small and neat, like a Mini. I am more like a truck.

I feel like such an idiot. I want to see her again, but I don’t know how to talk to her.

And what if I ask her out and she says no? Or what if she comes but I say nothing the whole time?

Karel

I got out my pen and paper and wrote:

Dear Karel,

What if she says yes? Ask her out by SMS. Take her to a movie.

There is no need to feel an idiot. You might think boiling an egg is simple, but it is really quite a tricky thing to do. The perfect egg is one that’s been boiled for exactly three minutes. The problem is that if you put the egg straight into boiling water, the shell cracks. But if you put it into cold water, it’s hard to know when to start timing. There are three different ways to deal with this. I like the first way best.

Heat the egg before you add it to the boiling water. Do this by putting the egg into a small bowl which is about one quarter full of cold water, then slowly add hot water from the kettle. Use a spoon to lower this warm egg into the boiling water.

or

Add a teaspoon of vinegar to the boiling water – this makes the egg think twice about cracking.

or

Put the egg in cold water and stand and wait till it boils.

Have a spoon and egg cup ready and eat straight away, because the egg carries on cooking inside its shell. Serve with toast, butter, salt and pepper.

I was sure a lot of people would be glad to see my response. How to boil an egg is a question that many are too embarrassed to ask. Karel was brave to bring it out in the open like that. I had high hopes for him.

I had just started to study another small blue envelope when the phone rang. Hattie answered.

‘The detective,’ she whispered. She winked as she handed me the phone. ‘For you.’

‘Maria speaking,’ I said.

‘Anna Pretorius has been arrested,’ the detective said. ‘She won’t call a lawyer. She wants you.’

‘Arrested?’

‘Can you come down to the station?’ he said.

‘For hitting you in the jaw?’

‘For murder, Mrs van Harten.’

‘Did she kill that man who tried to shoot her?’

I know I was being dense, we’d discussed it ourselves, just yesterday. But I didn’t want to believe it.

‘For the murder of Martine van Schalkwyk.’

This was really bad news.

But on the plus side, I could deliver both slices of cake at once.