The Sweetness of Liberty James (45 page)

BOOK: The Sweetness of Liberty James
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The cloakroom was beautifully fitted with teal tiles, a large basin set in a Victorian washstand, and a soap dispenser fixed to the wall so it could not be taken by the light-fingered mob.

Lighting had been one of the biggest considerations; the restaurant grew dark in winter at three-thirty. Liberty knew that even the most beautiful food benefited from flattering lighting to enhance the glazes, and each table had a low-wattage lamp above to give diners a chance to see what they were eating and to prevent side glare showing up dust or un-wiped surfaces.

Old-fashioned carriage lanterns made from bronze and glass were to hang on either side of the jauntily coloured emerald gloss door, and her colours of lilac and emerald had been stitched into linen napkins, tea towels and printed on patisserie boxes and bags, depicting the LIBERTEAS logo dreamed up by Fred. J-T had pointed out that one airline had reduced passenger sickness by 80 per cent after it changed the green seat covers for beige ones, but Liberty pointed out her building wouldn't be moving and green looked so smart and fresh.

‘Look at Fortnum's, Harrods and Wimbledon – their colours never look shabby. No one refuses strawberries and cream on finals day, while Harrods food hall is a crush on the quietest morning,' she insisted. So he had relented and found a beautiful
deep emerald which he linked to a lilac to match the wisteria that would soon be hanging its tresses over the door.

Liberty was thrilled, but now, with only the menus left to perfect, she was becoming increasingly apprehensive. Everyone was full of advice, but she knew she must stick to her guns and not stay with safe food. Dilys at the pub had told her hot dogs and burgers were all the locals wanted, but Liberty had decided that was because it was all they were offered, and that she would do better.

She wanted to do some traditional English dishes, but with a twist. Her toasted teacakes were going to be made with an enriched dough, like a fruit brioche. Her scones would be made with fresh unpasteurised buttermilk from the goat farm down the valley, who were also happy to supply her with cheese and soft curd. The buttermilk added a sharp sweetness to the scones and enhanced their deep, moist, satisfying flavour.

One afternoon she invited her mother over for another tasting session. Deirdre marvelled over the walnut and poppy seed cake filled with kirsch-flavoured cream and black cherry jam. She asked Liberty about a licence.

‘You know, darling, a drinks licence. I know you want to concentrate on your cakes and pastries but you will also want to attract people with your savoury tarts – for example, this bacon and thyme and clotted cream tart would taste perfect with a light red wine, and your idea for a daily salad for ladies who lunch is excellent. A walnut-crusted warm goat's cheese salad needs a glass of Gewürztraminer.'

‘Oh,' replied Liberty, ‘ I must apply, it had completely slipped my mind.'

‘Look into it. I believe it can take time these days. They look into your criminal past and everything,' her mother told her, laughing.

It took Liberty an entire evening to fill in the paperwork, but when she posted the application she was pleased. One more thing done!

38

The dark days of January dragged on. Layers of snow moulded the Weald into beautiful new shapes, and brought everything to a standstill. Despite the council claiming they were ready for all eventualities, the council spokesperson announced on the local news after an extra centimetre of snow had fallen that there was insufficient grit to go round. Edmund sent the estate workers to clear the roads and pavements around the green, so the elderly could get to the shop. He also offered his Land Rover as a taxi for those who needed the doctor or had other important appointments. He had taken to popping into Duck End almost daily, happy to taste Liberty's cakes and declare them all perfect. He found it calming talking to her about the stresses of his new responsibility, because his father had been extremely popular. He wasn't exactly changing the world, but he had discovered some areas were wasteful and had let go a few staff from the spring water plant after finding three people watching bottles fill.

This had caused a bit of an upset, and strikes were threatened, until Jonathan stepped in and told the estate workers their jobs were safe. It was merely that Edmund had seen a waste of expenditure that could be used in other areas.

Edmund shared his frustration about Jonathan's interference with Liberty. But she assured him it was just because his father was still living there.

‘You will naturally defer to him. Wait until he goes off to France. Now, try these arancini.' And she popped the piping hot morsel into his open mouth.

Deirdre, who was sitting nearby on a bar stool, smiled as she watched Edmund swallow the tiny, deep-fried risotto ball with a filling of buffalo mozzarella. They would be excellent on a chicory salad with some parmesan shavings and maybe some fried sage, she advised, and she told Edmund she would have a word with Jonathan regarding his departure for the south of France.

‘I don't know why he is prevaricating; he and Paloma hit it off so well.'

‘I think he is scared of leaving Denhelm after all these years,' said Edmund, and pronounced the mouthful yummy. Liberty had popped out of the room, and Deirdre smiled at him and said, ‘You don't have to say everything is perfect, you know. She likes you anyway.'

Edmund flushed and told her it might be better at Denhelm when the café opened, as Mrs Goodman was fed up with him leaving most of his supper after filling up at Duck End!

‘What news of Gray and Savannah?' asked Liberty, rushing back in with Teal close behind.

‘Gray couldn't say much, as he was phoning from their home. In fact, he seemed very upbeat, as though Khalid was in the room, although he insisted he was phoning from his bedroom, which by all accounts is a house in the grounds! He said they all seemed blissfully happy and we shouldn't worry. He said that he was all right and everything was going to be OK. Either he was on something or his mind was on Bangladesh, where by all accounts the floods are getting worse. His flight has been cancelled twice.'

‘So what will he do until then?'

‘Wait at Savvie's until he gets the go-ahead. All flights have been cancelled until the monsoon clears.'

‘But you and your Pa must be pleased that Savvie is happy?' said Liberty. ‘I don't understand it. I've emailed Gray to give me the full picture, but have yet to hear back and Savvie has not returned my emails either. Do you believe Gray?' Liberty
thought back to the conversation she had with Gray just before he left. Had he been right? Was it all true love and just a huge misunderstanding? Why hadn't she heard from either of them?

‘Oh, don't be so impatient,' snapped Edmund a little too sharply, still worried about his beloved sister despite Gray's protestations that everything was coming up roses. Nothing was that perfect, was it? He allowed his gaze to rest on Liberty's fair face for a moment too long before continuing more gently, ‘He's only been there for a few days, so maybe he's waiting to see more of them together so he can judge the situation better. It does seem he has been forgetting his own worries and playing with the children.'

‘That must be lovely for him,' said Liberty wistfully. ‘I wondered how Khalid would react to him staying there after Savannah said he was horrified that Gray was gay.'

‘Mmm, Gray did mention he was slightly concerned before he arrived, but Khalid was all welcoming and the good host, proudly showing off his stud farm and taking him off into the desert to hunt with his falcons. I can't work out whether Gray has been wowed by Khalid, and is therefore not checking on Savannah, or maybe everything is just wonderful after all? We need to hear from the horse's mouth, and Savannah is keeping shtum for whatever reason. But I do feel a little better after Gray's reassurance. I had better go – I promised to take Mrs G to the farm shop. She can't walk there with these drifts. We would never find the little lady if she fell into one, and the estate would surely revolt on me if anything happened to her! She will be garbed up by now in her galoshes. Thanks for lunch.' And he grinned at Liberty and kissed Deirdre.

‘He's got a wee crush on you, young lady,' said Deirdre after he left.

‘Don't be silly,' sighed Liberty. ‘He's just grown a bit softer, and likes to escape from the angry workers!'

Liberty had a fair amount of free time on her hands now that
LIBERTEAS was all set for its Easter opening. So she decided on a trip to London to catch up with J-T and find out how things were progressing between him and Bob. And she knew she should meet Percy, tell him of her plans and say a real goodbye.

As she sped along, Teal illegally but comfortingly on her lap, she mused how much things had changed in the past eight months. Although she was delighted with her new life, she did miss the excitement of London, and she had so much enjoyed her time living with the CRs. She hoped Cecil was not too unwell; she must visit them.

To lighten the mood, she turned up the volume on her stereo. Lady Gaga almost woke the snoring pug, but then Neil Diamond calmed both driver and passenger.

Bob and J-T lived in Covent Garden, in a charming town house. It was a jewel among converted warehouses and shops. It felt like stumbling on Diagon Alley with Harry Potter. If you were window shopping or looking for one of the many cafés on the narrow street, you could walk past their smart black front door and miss the house completely; but when you knew it was there it appeared so
Ideal Homes
you couldn't resist ringing the bell and standing back to look up at it.

This is exactly what Liberty did, having managed to find a parking spot a few streets away. Teal was doing very well. It was the first time she had displayed her smart harness from Mungo & Maude – cream with black stitching and a matching lead. She trotted happily at Liberty's heel as though, to her, London was no different to the tranquil village of Littlehurst. She loved all the attention from passers-by, as pugs always do. She only disgraced herself once by weeing on a chap's shoe as he smoked a cigarette outside his office. Liberty got away with it as after his initial expletive and move to give the small dog a large kick up the backside the man looked up and saw the beauty on the end of the lead and decided Teal was really a charming little creature. Of course it could wee on his tasselled loafers, beastly uncomfortable things.

Liberty peered at the narrow windows. The house was built of black bricks with white painted sash windows. She hoped everything was all right. At last, a cacophony of yapping indicated that at least the dogs had heard the bell, and would alert J-T. The door was flung open, and she was enveloped in a hug.

‘You look well!' they cried simultaneously.

‘I expected to find you a shadow of your former self,' explained Liberty as she followed J-T upstairs to the apartment; the ground floor and basement were used for their offices and studio.

‘I've been a very good boy: no drinking, cooking for Bob – well, buying in and reheating – and being a very good house husband.'

‘Back in the bedroom yet?' she enquired.

‘Not permanently, no, but I have been allowed to visit. Bob has been wonderful – he's trying to cut back on work and I'm trying to ignore temptation by not getting tempted in the first place. And how is Gray? I still feel awful for him. He sent a lovely letter, but seeing as Bob and I have managed to hold it together, if only just, he definitely had the short straw.'

‘He seemed all right, better than all right, before he left for Bangladesh. I think it was a weight off his shoulders when he finally had to tell his father. Anyway, we can fill each other in over lunch. But I need to leave Teal here with your two, and she probably needs to use your garden first.'

J-T took all the dogs out while Liberty freshened up in the bathroom, all gold leaf and black marble.

‘You have redecorated again,' she marvelled as she met J-T downstairs.

‘Only because we ordered that suite for one of our clients from an Italian store and they went off it at the last minute. They had paid and it would have been churlish to throw away a hand-made marble washbasin and loo.'

‘People really have marble loos?' asked Liberty, laughing. ‘I
thought it was just meant to look like marble.'

‘That is the precise problem with it – nobody thinks it can be real, which instantly makes it appear cheap, despite costing God knows what. We even had to strengthen the floor to put it in!'

‘It looks unbelievable,' said Liberty politely, privately thinking that the two tasteful designers had scored a definite miss.

‘Where am I to take you, little Country Bumpkin?' asked J-T. ‘I thought you may like something a little more lively than you are used to?'

‘What I would love is to go to Rules. I have no need for fashionable and busy, I want to catch up with you, and Rules is perfect for warming winter food and good service, and it always feels like home. And we are unlikely to come across anyone we know.'

‘Why is that important?' asked J-T, tucking his hand under her arm and steering her along the pavement.

‘Not sure, but I am getting twitchy about phoning Percy. I should see him and talk about what we do next.'

They were walking through Covent Garden. J-T stopped and faced her.

‘You haven't called him to let him know you are coming?'

‘No. I thought I would go round after work.'

‘So you haven't heard the gossip, then,' said J-T, pulling Liberty close beside him again, so they could keep warm.

‘What gossip? What do you mean?'

‘I think we need a drink first.'

They stepped off the busy street into the calm oasis of Rules. It was like going into a bygone era. Smart polished brass, old prints, starched linen on small tables mostly occupied by dark-suited men who looked as though they were used to enjoying the finer things in life. Unusually for the modern day, especially at lunch, most tables bore bottles of wine. The only thing missing was the fug of cigar smoke, otherwise it could have been a gentlemen's club. Specialising in game and fine wines, Rules was reportedly the oldest existing restaurant in London.

BOOK: The Sweetness of Liberty James
4.98Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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