Читать книгу Headwinds - Sybil Kempel - Страница 9

"What are the orders?" Edward asked, entering with a little too much vehemence into the neat and ordered kitchen of Mrs. Clarke, the cook. His eyes were bright and his cheeks purple. He looked him up and down and shook his head. Not that she was disappointed that the butler at Willow Manor served quite generously at the bar: it was rather from the consideration of the social status of the house in which he provided his services. That attitude seemed to her a form of ingratitude towards Mr. Davis which, if it could not be said generous, was nevertheless right and this fact was not so obvious among the newly arrived rich settled in Hornsea in recent years.

"Here's the shopping list" said Mrs. Clarke, waving a sheet of paper. Then he added: "Will you drive to town?"

"Why? Is something wrong?" Edward asked aggressively.

"Forget it" Mrs. Clarke sighed. Looking back, he added: "At least when Mr. Davis is at home..."

"Would you suggest that I can't do my homework?" Edward growled.

''Go, go, otherwise you'll queue in the shops. Many families arrived yesterday and I saw a lot of people around shopping''

"Good for you. Where do I go?" the butler asked.

Meanwhile, Mr. Davis entered the kitchen.

"Good morning, Mrs. Clarke. Edward..."

The two froze, smiling embarrassed. Davis never happened to enter the kitchen. He usually limited his presence to the part reserved for him, namely the living rooms, the library, the dining room, his study. Davis looked at them amused. The list had fallen to the ground so he picked it up.

"The shopping?" He asked Mrs. Clarke.

"Edward was leaving to go..." the cook hastened to answer.

Davis read the list: "Today Edward can devote himself to some other task. I am going out’’

"But Mr. Davis..." replied Mrs. Clarke, almost offended.

Davis smiled at her then put his fingers on his lips: "It's not good to contradict your employer..." he said jokingly.

Edward looked at him puzzled: "You're in a good mood this morning..." he began to say.

"...without considering the fact," continued Davis, interrupting him and looking at him with a strange grimace, "which I believe to do a meritorious work for the pedestrians of Hornsea... Can I take your car Edward?"

Edward flushed with anger but immediately recomposed himself and, after rummaging in his pocket, handed Davis the keys.

"Here, hold on" he said, not without a hint of bad grace.

Davis, unflappable, took the keys, waved a greeting and left the kitchen.

When the two heard the gravel of the courtyard crunching under the tires of the car that was moving away, Edward sat down at the kitchen table and punched the floor.

"Am I wrong" he said bitterly," or did you give me a drunkard?"

"Why do you get angry with Edward? It is true" said Mrs. Clarke acidly as she started with her chores, opening the doors and pulling out the bowls and cooking utensils, "and if you do not know what to do you could also help me clean the vegetable."

''You wash the vegetables. I go to the garden," snapped Edward and stood up.

"Mrs. Roberts said the garage would be put in order,” he shouted after him.

"Yes, yes" the annoyed man replied, and slammed out the front door.

"You can't say that Mrs. Clarke isn't a precise woman" he said aloud to himself Mr. Davis. The list contained in minute calligraphy and specifies everything that had to be purchased including the indications of the shops.

When he arrived in front of Sullivan's bakery, Davis parked by the side of the road and entered the shop. The effect that made its entrance on the customers was that of a fighter landing on the square of a city.

The shop was full of ladies who were waiting to chat about this and that. The entry of Davis silenced them all: some of them furtively, some brazenly, each turned to him and began to scrutinize him. Only the chirping of Mrs. Clements continued to be heard, served at that moment, who had obviously not noticed anything.

"Again that cereal loaf, Klara" he said, then leaning towards the saleswoman: "Perhaps my brother will visit me today. And he loves my stuffed potatoes to die for''

"I've heard of them, they are famous" Klara replied gently. Mrs. Clements swelled with pride: "Did you really hear about it?"

"They make twelve pence, Mrs Clements. Sure: they say they are unique"

"Thank you Mrs Klara, you are a love" said old Mrs. Clements, laying a handful of small change on the counter.

Behind her the whispering resumed. Davis prepared to queue patiently when a lady approached him and told him. "Mr. Davis, will you pass?"

He looked at her condescendingly: "No, thanks, I'm in no hurry, I can wait"

"Really, I'd be happy if you pass"

Mr. Davis, slightly annoyed shielded himself and said flatly: "I will wait for my turn"

Still smiling, the woman returned to her seat in the queue, then turned in a low voice to her neighbor: "How arrogant!" He commented in a whisper, while his interlocutor nodded with conviction.

When Mrs. Clements had moved away, Klara looked up at the line: she noticed an unusual agitation and saw Ursula from behind Davis, nodding towards him, pointing at him repeatedly, accompanying the gestures with a series of extremely comic grimaces.

Klara smiled and continued carelessly serving the line.

Davis maintained a detached and absent attitude for the next fifteen minutes. When it was his turn he went to the counter.

"Good morning" he said coldly.

"What do you want?" Klara asked, a little more abruptly than she'd wanted. Davis looked up and looked at her with intensity, visibly annoyed by those too brisk ways.

Klara held her gaze in an attitude of defiance and expectation.

"I need four rye bread and three with sesame seeds," Davis said finally.

Without saying a word Klara took the cases as requested, weighed the bread and handed him the paper bag.

"They make forty-two pence" he said.

Davis paused to count the loose change, then took out a ten pound note and placed it on the rack.

Klara chuckled and handed him back the note: "I'm sorry, the day has just begun... I don't have the rest"

"And I have no change," said Davis.

"It's not a problem: tomorrow Edward will pay for everything"

"But I don't want to leave debts" said Davis.

"Mr. Davis, for a customer like you... "

"I'm no better than the others" Davis replied almost furiously.

"Not the rest to give you" he said slowly, chanting the words Klara.

"And I don't have any change" Davis replied just as slowly.

Klara blushed and was about to give some replies when the woman from before intervened: "Do you want me to change the bill?" he proposed.

Davis turned away annoyed by the intrusion then gave a minute nod and mechanically handed the ten pounds to the lady.

"Here look: five in banknote and five in coin" she said thoughtful.

"Thanks" Davis replied dryly and threw a pound coin on the counter.

Klara did not pick it up and put the small pieces of the rest on the glass holder.

Davis then took it and turned around, grabbing the bag, and started to leave without saying goodbye.

"Good morning Mr. Davis" Klara said, exaggeratedly kind.

There was a few giggles from the line and Davis, unleashing a false smile, replied: "Good day to you, Mrs..."