Netherwood (58 page)

She dealt with the dishes, washed them, dried them, put them away. Nothing was ever left to drain when she was in charge. She carried water from the rain butt to the set pot, and poured it in. Wash day tomorrow. Then she wrapped what was left of the roast beef, and put it away. If it was up to her, there’d be hash tomorrow but Anna probably had other plans, involving paprika. Then, finally finished, she stood for a while, looking at nothing through the kitchen window. In these moments of
absolute stillness, few enough though they were, she was vulnerable to melancholy. It lurked in the silences, waiting for its moment, and it stole up on her now. She wondered if, after all, she should have gone with the others to the common, let the fresh air blow away her sorrows. It wasn’t too late, though. Before she could think again and submit to the miseries, she took her red jacket from the peg at the foot of the stairs and shrugged herself into it. She stepped out of the house and pulled the door shut behind her, then headed off up Watson Street so brisk and purposeful that when Daniel MacLeod rounded the corner from Allott’s Way, she landed right in his arms, as squarely and perfectly timed as if it had been their intention all along.

She took him to Bluebell Wood, not to the common; all those awkward introductions and significant glances between Amos and Anna could wait until later. The bluebells were done, but you could see where they’d been, the ground an unbroken bed of tender green leaves, spent and flattened as they worked at sending their strength and goodness back underground for their show next May. He’d be here to see them, he said. They sat, side by side, on the long, low bench formed by a fallen beech tree, and contemplated a life together.

There was a post at Netherwood Hall, he said. Old Hislop was being pensioned off, and the countess had mentioned it to Daniel, half-heartedly, because she thought he was entirely wedded to his garden at Fulton House, but found she was mistaken.

‘You’re to be ’ead gardener?’ Eve said.

‘I am,’ he said.

‘’ave you seen t’size of that garden?’

He nodded. ‘A lot of work,’ he said. ‘But thirty-four under-gardeners.
Thirty-four.’

‘And you’ll need every one of ’em. Who’ll tend your garden? I mean, at Fulton ’ouse?’

‘Fred. He’s already older than I was when I started there.’

‘Daniel.’

She sounded serious; he looked at her and found she was.

‘You must be absolutely sure,’ she said.

‘I am, I—’

‘No, listen. It’s marvellous that you’re ’ere. A miracle. But everything’ll be different for you now. So different.’ She laughed, not because the differences were funny, but because they were legion. ‘You like London, you told me so. Netherwood’s small and mucky and everyone talks like me, or worse. And that enormous garden, working on t’estate – you won’t be your own man.’

‘No. I’ll be your man.’

He turned his smile on her, which, it seemed, was all he needed to do, because all her doubts and fears proved as insubstantial as gossamer in the wind. He pushed himself down from the bough so that he could face her, then he folded her into his arms and held her close enough to feel the beat of her heart against his chest. For a while he stood silently and breathed her in. Then he spoke, and she could feel his voice in her hair.

‘Life is full of uncertainty, Eve, twists and turns we don’t expect, a future we can’t predict. So, in the end, the only really important thing is who we love, and who loves us back in return.’

‘Well,’ she said. ‘I love you.’

‘And I love you.’

They left it at that, because there was no hurry any more, no urgent sense of time contracting. Their days spread out before them, unthreatened by train journeys and other people’s plans. There were, however, folk to meet. He lifted her off the bough and set her down, and they walked together out of the woods to find the rest of her family, up on the common.

Ingredients

(For the filling)

A pound and a half of lean, boneless pork from the leg

Half a pound of fat, boneless pork from the belly

A dash of anchovy essence

3 tablespoons of stock

Salt and pepper to taste

(For the hot water crust pastry)

12oz plain flour

A quarter teaspoon of salt

4oz lard

A quarter pint of water

(For the jelly)

A quarter pint of good, reduced meat stock, made with bones,

gristle, onion, carrots and herbs.

Method

Dice lean and fat pork and mix together. Add anchovy essence and stock. Leave to stand while making the pastry.

Sift the flour and salt into a large mixing bowl. Heat the lard in the water until melted. Add the flour to the hot liquid and stir vigorously until well blended. When the dough is cool enough to handle, place on a floured work surface and knead energetically until smooth. Allow to rest for one hour at room temperature.

Roll out the dough. Lightly grease and line a seven-inch raised pie tin. Cut a circle of pastry the depth and circumference of the sides of the tin, then mould and shape the dough into place. Bring the crust a half-inch above the top of the tin.

Put in the filling, then cut out a circular portion of dough for the lid. Cut a small hole in its centre, then place it on top of the pie and seal the edges and trim. With the left over pastry, fashion a rose, large enough to sit over the hole. Decorative pastry leaves may be added at this stage too. Brush with an egg wash.

Bake in a moderate oven for about three hours, though it may be more, or less, depending on your oven. Lower the heat after two hours if the pastry seems to be catching. When ready, remove the pie from the oven.

Carefully remove the rose from the centre and pour in the reduced stock. Leave the pie somewhere cold for several hours for the jelly to set.

Serve in wedges with homemade chutneys.

Ingredients

(For the suet crust pastry)

Half a pound of plain flour

A good pinch of salt

4oz suet

Cold water to bind

(For the pie filling)

One and a half pounds of chuck steak

Half a pound of ox kidney

One onion, sliced

Seasoned flour

Worcestershire sauce

Good beef stock

Method

For the suet crust, sift the flour into a mixing bowl then sprinkle the suet in, mixing lightly with your hands to distribute evenly. Gradually sprinkle in cold water and mix with a round-bladed knife until you have a smooth, elastic dough that leaves the sides of the bowl clean. Rest the dough for five minutes, then roll out for use.

Line a greased two-pint pudding basin with the dough.

Chop the steak and kidney into small pieces, toss in the seasoned flour, scatter the onion slices into the meat mixture and add to the pastry-lined basin. Pour in the stock to about three-quarters of the way up the meat filling. Add a dash of Worcestershire Sauce.

Roll out a pastry lid, dampen its edges, and press and seal well on top of the pudding.

Cover with a muslin lid, or greaseproof paper, pleated in the centre to allow the pudding to rise. Tie securely into place with string around the neck of the basin.

Steam over boiling water for five hours, adding more water to the pan beneath the steamer as necessary. Turn out onto a platter and serve with seasonal vegetables.

Ingredients

8oz plain flour

3 eggs

Half a pint of milk

Pinch of salt

Beef dripping, for cooking

Method one

Sift the flour with the salt. Make a well in the centre and add the eggs. (An extra egg white may be added at this stage for a higher, lighter pudding.) Gradually whisk in the milk – you may not need to use it all – until you have a thick, smooth batter that easily coats the back of a spoon. Leave to rest.

Heat the dripping in a roasting tin until smoking hot. Add the rested batter and bake for about three-quarters of an hour, or until golden brown and crisp. You may need to reduce the heat when the pudding has risen.

Cut into portions and serve with gravy.

NB For small puddings, use moulds as for fairy cakes or buns, and reduce the cooking time to half an hour.

Method two

If you’re roasting a beef joint, you may bake the pudding in the tin used to cook the meat, first straining away the juices for use in your gravy, but leaving the fat in the tin.

Pour the batter into the tin and cook until nicely browned. The meat should be returned to the oven to finish on a rack above the pudding, adding its juices to the batter. This method is delicious, but does give a flatter, crisper pudding.

Ingredients

1-2 large savoy cabbages

Pork sausage meat

Chopped mixed herbs

Chopped tomatoes

One onion, chopped

Good chicken stock

Method

Take off the largest leaves from the cabbages, and in a large saucepan of boiling water, blanch them until soft. Remove and pat dry.

Mix the herbs with the sausage meat, and place a spoonful in the centre of each leaf. Fold the leaves, wrapping the pork inside, and fasten with a wooden toothpick, or with twine.

Gently fry the onion in oil in a wide, shallow pan until soft and sweet. Add the chopped tomato and fry for a minute or two. Season with salt and pepper.

Pack the cabbage parcels into the pan, as snugly as possible. Pour over the stock to just cover.

Bring to the boil, then simmer gently for half an hour. If the parcels rise above the broth, turn them over from time to time. Butter beans, soaked overnight and cooked, may be added to the sauce before serving.

Ingredients

4oz plain flour

1 teaspoon of baking powder

Pinch of salt

Pinch of sugar

1 egg

A quarter pint of milk

2 tablespoons of melted butter

Method

Sift flour, salt and baking powder into a large bowl. Stir in the sugar and – if you wish – a few raisins or sultanas. Add the egg and the milk, and beat well until you have a smooth batter. Add to this the melted butter.

Grease a griddle and put it on the heat. Test by dropping a small spoonful of batter onto the griddle and if the heat is right, small bubbles will form within a short while on the surface of the batter.

Drop large spoonfuls of batter onto the griddle, flipping them over after two minutes to cook on the other side for the same length of time. Lay the cooked scones on a clean cloth over a wire cooling tray.