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Authors: Helen Spring

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BOOK: The Chainmakers
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‘You think not?’ Her voice had a steely edge. ‘Chef, which night do you have off?’

‘Me? Oh... er... Mondays.’

‘Good. To show you I mean what I say, I would like you to come to dinner on Monday evening. I shall cook.’

‘Oh... that’s very kind Mrs Sullivan but I don’t think...’

‘Come now Chef, you have handed out a challenge have you not? Here is my card, be there at seven thirty, to eat at eight.’

‘But Mrs. Sullivan...’

‘You have given me an excellent lunch Chef, please let me return the favour. There is only one condition.’
The winning smile again.

‘And that is?’

‘If you agree I am a true cook, I want that recipe for lobster cassolette.’

~

 

When Anna left the Plaza she took one of the new metered taxi cabs home. She had enjoyed riding in them since the first fleet had arrived in New York from France a year earlier, in a blaze of publicity. It was silly, she supposed, but she liked to sit in the back seat and know that the cab had also been in France, as she had, and she would dream a little about those long lost days as she rode around New York like a lady.

When she arrived at the elegant house on 65th Street which was now her home, she immediately went to the nursery, where Lottie Wilson, the elderly English nanny she had engaged for James, was delighted to see her.

'Oh ma 'am, it's you,' she whispered, her face beaming with pleasure, 'I'll put the kettle on right away. The little one is fast asleep bless him. He'll be awake soon no doubt.'

Anna took a quick peep at her son, then took off her hat and sat down in a comfortable chair near the fireside. She liked being in the nursery with Lottie, the plain furnishings and simple fare reminded her of home.

Lottie busied herself with the tea things and said quietly, 'Did you get what you wanted?'

Anna sighed. 'No. The Chef knew I was there to pick his brains and wouldn't tell me anything.'

'Oh dear!' Lottie said with concern.

'It's not so bad. I've invited him to dinner on Monday. If he likes my cooking he'll give me the recipe.'

Lottie's face lit up. 'Then it's in the bag. There's not a better cook in all New York than you ma' am.' She poured boiling water into the teapot and stirred thoughtfully, saying 'You may not get much more information though.'

'It's no matter, I have all I need.' Anna answered. 'I shall be making up my own menu's when we open our first restaurant.' She smiled at Lottie. 'And how are you feeling my dear? Have you heard from your son?'

'No, ma'am. Not since the letter from Philadelphia when he was trying for a job on the railroad.'

'Don't worry, he'll be alright. He was probably right to leave, things are not easy now for immigrants.' Anna's mind went back to her own arrival in New York, and she continued, 'It was better when we came. President Roosevelt made it clear that immigrants of the right kind were welcome.'

Lottie nodded. 'And now we get blamed for every single thing wrong with this country, especially if we happen to be Catholic.'

Anna frowned. 'Surely not, Lottie. I am not a Catholic but I employed you to care for James because I know you are a good woman.'

Even as she said it some trick of memory caught her suddenly, and she was in Paris, and Jacques was explaining that Catholics didn't really worship pictures. Anna tried to concentrate. Was it possible that simple incident had affected her decision to employ Lottie?

'I know that ma'am,' Lottie was saying. She seemed to have something on her mind. 'Mrs. Sullivan, there was something I wanted to say to you...' she ventured.

Anna waited as Lottie poured the tea. She handed Anna her cup and then said hesitantly, 'You will recall I told you I would have to leave here, as soon as my son sent for me to join him?'

'Yes.'

'I want to say that even if he sends for me, I don't need to go until you are ready. It isn't as though Eddie needs me, in fact I'd be a liability for the first few years, until he's got himself settled. I'd love to look after James until he goes to school, if that's alright with you.'

'You know it is Lottie.' Anna was pleased.

'I've become so fond of him,' Lottie confessed. 'He's a lovely boy and that's the truth.'

Anna laughed. 'That's not what you said when he tipped the tea leaves into the rice pudding...'

Lottie joined in the laughter. 'He's mischievous right enough, but there isn't an unkind or ungenerous bone in his body.' She beamed at Anna. 'Just like his Pa,' she added.

Anna did not reply. She sipped her tea as Lottie chattered on.

'What I mean ma'am, is I'm glad you didn't give me that job in the kitchen I applied for. I'm so much happier looking after James. Mr. Sullivan relies on you for the business, and you need someone to rely on too. All I'm saying is ma'am, that someone is me...'

'Thank you Lottie, it's a relief to know you can stay for another couple of years, for James's sake.' Anna stopped, and then said carefully. 'It's been good to have you here Lottie, for me as well as James. Good to have someone to talk to about the business...'

'What me? Lord ma'am, I've no head for business...'

'No, but you are interested, and it helps me to talk over my ideas with someone who isn't directly involved.' Anna smiled sadly. 'It helps me to know someone is on my side.'

As Anna kissed her sleeping son and then left the nursery, Lottie pondered on her words. Whatever made Anna Sullivan imagine no-one was on her side? Why was everything such a battle for her? It was plain her husband worshipped her, surely he was the one to talk to about the business?

Lottie got up stiffly as she heard James begin to stir. Her feeling for Mrs. Sullivan was not simple gratitude, she felt genuine affection for the family, and didn't like to think the mistress was unhappy. Perhaps it was because there had been no more babies, she reflected.

Lottie lifted James from his bed and kissed him gently.

'There we are now, just woken up have we? Come with Nanny and have some milk...'

She sat the two year old in the small chair which his doting Pa had made with his own hands, and went to pour the milk, still considering Anna's words. The simple truth was probably, she thought, that young Mrs. Sullivan misses her mother.

~

 

When Clancy arrived home he was none too pleased to hear that the Chef from the Plaza was to dine with them on the following Monday.

‘I don’t know why you can’t leave well alone,’ he grumbled. ‘I don’t have the social chit chat for these people...’

‘What people?’ Anna retorted. ‘Anyone would think I had invited high society. The Chef is a very hard worker, like you and I. I will take care of the small talk,’ she added, ‘It will all be about food.’

Clancy frowned. ‘Does he have a name, this culinary wizard?’

‘I’ve no idea. I just called him “Chef.”’

‘I can’t call him “Chef” all evening...’

‘Well call him “Maitre” then if you prefer...’ Anna said tartly.

Clancy tried a different tack. ‘When you go to these places dressed up so... so...’

‘Beautifully?’

‘I was going to say expensively,’ Clancy retorted. ‘People will think you have the money to back it up. This Chef will expect...’

‘He will expect a good dinner and he’ll get it. And I’m sure he has never been invited to a better address.’

‘That’s true. We should never have spent so much on this house. The area is beyond us...’

‘Of course it isn’t. We are as good as anyone else. This is America Clancy, we are not limited by ideas about what is “our place in society.” Money is what matters here.’

‘And we don’t have enough to live in a place like this,’ Clancy retorted.

‘Of course we do! It’s already worth twice what we paid for it, property prices are going through the roof!’

‘Yes, we’re so well off we only have one downstairs room furnished!’ Clancy reiterated.

Anna laughed out loud. ‘Yes, but what furnishing. You must admit we have done it right, haven’t we?’ She looked around the elegant drawing room with delight, where Sylvie’s painting held pride of place over the fireplace. ‘Honestly Clancy, did you ever think we should have a place like this? I’m sure it’s right to furnish only one room at a time and do it really well. Everything we buy will be of the very best quality...’

‘Everything you buy you mean...’

For once his tone seemed to reach her, and she said slowly, ‘You don’t mean that do you? You don’t really think I’m spending too much money? We are doing so well...’

Clancy relented. ‘It isn’t the money sweetheart, it’s just that I don’t know where we are going. We have a good business, yes, over fifty accounts now. But no matter how many accounts we get, we shall never be in the class of our neighbours...’

‘There you go again! Class!’ Anna said vehemently. ‘I want James to have...’

‘I know.’ Clancy interrupted. ‘You want a good future for him and so do I. But Anna, I don’t want to belong to so called high society. I wouldn’t be comfortable...’

She laughed again. ‘And neither would I. But when we have our chain of first class restaurants...’

‘I’ve told you I’m not sure about that...’

‘Well I am. Why do you think I’ve been working so hard all this time, picking up tips from the best Chefs in town? I am teaching young Jenny McCormack all I know, she’s really good Clancy, and will be ready for responsibility before too long. And as for society, when we have our chain of first class restaurants, we shall make our own society.’

Clancy sighed. ‘You and your big ideas. I didn’t know I married such an ambitious woman.’

‘You did.’

He looked at her and then laughed. ‘Yes, I suppose I did.’ He crossed to the drinks table and poured himself a whisky. ‘You want a drink?’

‘No thank you.’

Clancy sat down in the large armchair opposite. He sipped his drink and regarded her gravely. ‘These big ideas of yours. If I agree...’

‘Oh Clancy!’

‘I said
if
I agree... it has to be on a proper footing.’

‘Of course...’

‘You say “of course” but you don’t even know what I’m talking about,’ Clancy said hotly.

She waited for him to explain, and at length he said in a conciliatory manner, ‘Anna, we don’t have the knowledge, enough business expertise... to take on something of this kind.’

‘But we do! Clancy we do! I have the most wonderful food planned...’

‘There you go again, I’m not talking about food!’ Clancy was becoming impatient, ‘I’m talking about business.’

BOOK: The Chainmakers
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