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‘Cook’ll know what to do!’
‘Now what’s happened,’ wheezed Cook. The ham she’d brought up from the cellar storeroom was a rather large and weighty one. And somehow the stairs to the kitchen seemed to have grown steeper and more numerous on the ascent.
Setting her burden down on the nearest counter, she wiped her hands on a hand towel and turned to face the trio at the table. ‘Oh my, what’s this?’ she said seeing the teary and distraught faces of the two Big Folk children.
Ginger blurted out the problem in a rush of words, mixing the facts all together in a mad jumble. Pulling out a chair for herself, Cook sat down and began to sort them out.
‘Well, first off,’ she began, ‘you’re still little’uns in my way of thinking . . . not safe for you to be wandering about out on the road.’ She looked toward Tim and nodded her head at him. ‘Not to say you haven’t done a good job of taking care of your little sister. You’re a credit in my book as a big brother. Stepped right up and took responsibility.’
She poured herself a cup of tea and sat considering the problem as she sipped it.
‘Do you have any folk anywhere we can help you get to?’ she asked. ‘If not, then we’ll figure something else out . . . taking into account, of course, that you’re willing to do your share of work for your keep.’
‘Ginger – fetch me a small plate of eggs and bacon, if you will. Planning’s always done best with a full stomach! my Gran always said. Now, come on you two, ply your forks to that good breakfast I made. And here . . .’ she went on, pushing the pot of honey toward Wren as she poured her a little more hot tea. ‘Try a spoonful or two of Gammer Oldbuck’s fireweed honey in it – very tasty . . . sweets for the sweet,’ she added, tucking into her own plate.
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