The Dominafuhrer - THE GODMOTHER

Episode 20 - The Full English Spalding

I found the dining room off the central passage and Spalding sitting at the far end of a long polished table which could probably seat thirty people. He was smoking a cigarette, drinking coffee and reading the Sunday Express which he folded up and put down.

“Good morning, my lady”, he got to his feet and pulled out a chair so that I could sit down at one the places laid with a mat and cutlery. “Would you like something to start? We have Tea, Coffee, Orange Juice, Grapefruit, Prunes, Porridge, Puffed Wheat, Weetabix, Corn Flakes, Shredded Wheat, hot or cold milk and toast; brown or white with Jam, marmalade or honey”.

“Oh Coffee! Please”, I almost begged. “Then I’ll have Weetabix with cold milk, white toast and marmalade and do you have any freshly squeezed grapefruit juice?”

“Certainly my lady and what would you like cooked?” Spalding was dispensing my order from a row of dishes, jugs and urns on the nearby dresser, ending up with popping two slices of bread into a toaster. I gratefully seized the little silver coffee pot, filled my cup and almost drained it before replying. “I’m not sure. What can you do?”

Spalding laid the tray with my bowl of cereal, juice and toast on the table beside me, straightened his shoulder and began his next recital.

“You can have eggs; boiled, fried, poached or scrambled; kippers, kedgeree, bacon; smoked or unsmoked, sausages; pork or beef, mushrooms, tomatoes, sauté potatoes, black pudding, kidneys and baked beans”. He sagged against the table as he took another breath and then raised his bushy eyebrows at me expectantly.

“Yes please and is there anything else?” I said brightly and the eyebrows came together to form a ragged hedge across his brow. “What do you mean my lady? Yes to what and what else could you want?”

“I’ll have one of everything except the fish and the baked beans and I was wondering if you had any German sausage?”

The eyebrows shot up and then Spalding turned on his heel and went out of the door at the side of the dresser. He returned a few minutes later, sat down again and poured himself another cup of coffee.

“Has anyone else been down for breakfast?” I asked as I spooned the cereal into my mouth.

“No my lady, you are the first but others have rung down for a continental breakfast to be served in their rooms.”
”Rung down? How?” I paused and gave him a puzzled look.

“Have you not noticed the brass button in your bedroom on the wall opposite to the toilet cubicle, my lady?” Spalding’s eyebrows waggled at me. “If you press that, a bell keeps ringing on a numbered board in the pantry next to the kitchen down here until it is acknowledged. One of the other servants nips up the back stairs to take the order. There’s one on the wall there” He pointed at a brass button, about the size of a florin, in a brass ring on the wall above the dresser. “Of course, there’s no point this weekend pressing the bell after nine at night or before six in the morning because there’s no staff on the premises but, at other times, one usually sleeps in the pantry overnight. Of course, in the old days, all the servants’ quarters out the back would be occupied but we all go home at night to the village now.”

I pushed the empty bowl away, refilled my coffee cup and began spreading butter and marmalade on my toast when I realised that Spalding was looking at me speculatively.

“We were no sooner through the door this morning when Lord Mayberry came down in his dressing gown and demanded that we strip and remake his bed, clean his room up and launder his pyjamas. He said that he’d been taken ill in the night and had to sleep in a chair because of the mess. Then Sir Geoffrey wanted the first aid box brought up stairs so that Ashley could have a lot of cuts, bruises and internal injuries treated and then the mess cleaned up in Sir Geoffrey’s bathroom suite. There’s a pungent pool in the gallery to be mopped up as well. I understand that you might have might have been responsible for some of that.”

I returned his gaze coolly as I munched my toast and he broke into a grin. “Poor lamb, I’m sorry I wasn’t there to see you beat the shit out of the little cunt”.

It was my turn to look surprised. “I take it that Ashley is not popular with the staff”.

Spalding turned and looked at the nearest window where the wind was smacking the wet branches of a tree against the glass panes.

“The first weekend that he came up here, he swanned around like Lady Muck, poking his nose in everywhere, and then told Sir Geoffrey that I should be retired, my daughter Grace’s cooking was unhealthy and that my family was a plague of inbred parasites on the estate. That was a dreadful thing to say! There hasn’t been any of that\ in our family for a century and a half! Apart from my cousin Sam and his sister Edith, of course; they were working in the London house and got drunk on Mafeking night, so that one doesn’t count because they didn’t realise who the other was until the next morning.”

“What did Sir Geoffrey do?” I asked, totally bemused by these further revelations.

Now it was Spalding who gave me a bland look. “He held Ashley’s hand all night while the fairy sat on the crapper with a bad case of diarrhoea. He’d probably eaten something cooked by someone who disagreed with him”.

At that point, the maid Doris appeared in the doorway, holding a tray with a silver dish cover on it. “Grandad; Mum says this is for the Jerry bag”. Without even blinking at this insult to me, Spalding got up, took the tray from Doris and brought it to the table. The plate was placed in front of me, the dish cover lifted away and I stared wide eyed at the array of food before me.

“You had Bockwurst!” I exclaimed in delight when I saw the spicy German sausages. “Yes”, Spalding sniffed. “We had to get it in when Herr bloody Rittmeister started coming here.”

I was too busy with my knife and fork, despite the tale about Ashley, to follow up his remark about Kurt but, after a couple of mouthfuls, I had to comment on the food. “This is excellent, Spalding, and all freshly grilled. Has the cook been waiting all this time for someone to come down for breakfast?”

Spalding had picked up his newspaper when I had started eating and lowered it enough to look at me. “Bless you no, my lady. My Grace cooks a full breakfast every morning for the staff and their families”.

Any comment from me was prevented by Kelly coming in the through the door, dressed in a white sweater and a beige pleated skirt. She had done her hair and makeup and looked a lot better than when I had left her upstairs.

“Jeez, that looks good!” she said as she sat down opposite to me and eyed my plate. “Spalding, my Mistress would like Coffee with cream, Orange Juice, Porridge with hot milk, Brown Toast and is there any of that pâté left from last night? Put it on a tray and I’ll take it upstairs to her.”

“No need for that my lady”, Spalding eased himself to his feet again. “There’s a dumb waiter from the kitchen to a cupboard at the top of the back stairs. Doris will deliver it for you.” He recited the breakfast menu to Kelly who placed a similar order to mine, except for the Bockwurst. “There is one other thing”, she added hopefully. “Can you do flapjacks and maple syrup instead of the cereal and toast?”

Spalding threw his hands in the air and left the room.

“How’s Mistress?” I asked, frowning as the last of my coffee was poured into Kelly’s cup.

“Up, showered, getting dressed and plotting how to talk to Sherry,” Kelly grinned and then looked serious. “Thanks for looking after me again, can we go for a walk after breakfast? I’ve something to tell you”.

With my mouth full of sausage, I could only nod and then Spalding returned serve Kelly with her orange juice, coffee pot and milk.

“Spalding, can I get a taxi around here today?” Kelly asked. ”I have to get to Thursford.” 

Spalding shook his head. “Jim Cole runs one out of the garage on the Brancaster Road, but its Sunday and he’s usually booked solid, ferrying old dears to Church for their last chance at redemption.”

“Don’t worry”, I said. “I’ll drive you there. Is it far?”

Spalding screwed up his nose. “About an hour and a half there and back, but I suggest that you stick to the main roads and take the long way via Fakenham. The country lanes are not good and you would probably get lost. Might I enquire where you will be staying in Thursford, my lady?”

“With my cousin Michael”, Kelly looked very guarded as she replied. “He’s got an old farmhouse there.”

“Michael Downham the artist? He’s well known in Norfolk”. Spalding’s eyebrows waggled with interest. “I bought one of his earlier works cheap in a shop in Sheringham and it’s on the wall in my cottage now. Sir Geoffrey went down himself to Michael’s studio, where you’re going, and bought four; one each for his study here, the London house and his apartments in New York and Frankfurt. Oh yes, Michael Downham’ works are very popular. There was an article about him in Country Life last year and Peter Scott admits that Michael’s a better landscape painter than him. In fact, he’s often up this way, painting in the creeks and marshes and on Scolt Head Island”.

This all appeared to be news to Kelly, who sat open-mouthed while I edged her coffee pot towards my side of the table.

“Grandad!” Doris yelled from the doorway and Spalding came back with a tray with another silver dish cover and a glass jar of golden brown liquid on it. Beneath the cover was a plate piled with little pancakes which made Kelly whoop with joy.

“You’re lucky my Grace has got a soft spot for Canadians”, Spalding sniffed as Kelly spooned butter onto the flapjacks. ”In fact, most of them stationed round here in your Air Force seemed to find it while her Charlie was away fighting in the Desert.”

At that time I was still unaware Kelly’s elder brother’s war service so I was puzzled by her reaction, almost pouring the jug of maple syrup over the table instead of the plate.

“That would make your Grandfather Jack Downham then?” Spalding asked and Kelly’s fork poised in its demolition of the flapjacks as she gave him a nervous look and nodded.

“Shame what happened to that family”, Spalding said mysteriously, setting my curiosity bells ringing but neither pursued the subject.

Kelly’s cooked breakfast came after the flapjacks and, having finished my plate, I topped up my coffee cup and waited for her to finish.

“What’s the best place for a walk around here?” I asked Spalding and his newspaper barrier came down again, staring out of the window as he pondered.

“Carry on down the passage to the back door and then go right past the stables and the kitchen garden. Turn left onto the estate road to the home farm. There’s a path off to the left at the buried icehouse which is a short cut through the woods to the headland. You’ll see a pillbox and the concrete stands for the ack-ack guns on the top of the hill; the coastal gun battery is just over the other side. There’s a fine view up and down the coast from there. Of course the guns have gone now unless the Russians threaten to invade but the pill box is clean and dry. We don’t let strangers on the estate but Doris and her young man cavorts around on one of them Vespa scooters and I suppose my first great grandchild will be conceived up there soon if they haven’t done so already”.                 

“Did the guns fire during the war?” I asked, my military interest awakened.

“Oh yes!” Spalding laid his paper on the table. “The ack-ack was always banging away at Jerry bombers heading for Lynn or the Midlands. They brought several down but the only time the coast guns fired was at a couple of E-Boats, hiding up in the creek after dark, and waiting for a convoy to go by. One blew up and the other was last seen on fire, heading for the North Sea”.

Spalding waited for me to comment but it was more than ten years since I had regretted Germany losing the war although I still felt sad at the loss of lives, especially those that I had loved.

“You mentioned stables; are there any horses in them?” Kelly asked, pushing her empty plate away.

“Not since Lady Harriet took off, I’m glad to say. If any guests want a ride, we usually hire them from the stables at Wells. Our stables are used for storage or workshops now”

“I didn’t know that you could ride”, I said, getting my cigarettes out my handbag and putting the packet on the table.

“Almost as soon as I could walk”, Kelly grinned. “I’m a prairie child, remember?”

By the time that I located my lighter, she had grabbed my cigarette packet, extracted one each for herself and Spalding and tossed it back to me. I made a point of being seen to count the contents before lighting one for myself and popping the packet back into my handbag. Spalding struck a match for himself and Kelly to light up and they bat sat back, puffing at my cigarettes and smirking at me. I glowered and emptied Kelly’s coffee pot into my cup in revenge.

“You had both better wrap up well if you’re going up to the headland”, Spalding observed. “It will be very blustery day with heavy rain tomorrow but brightening up after that.”

“Did that come from a bit of country lore?” I joked but he turned his bright blue eyes on me. “No, the London Meteorological Office; it was the weather forecast on the radio”.

When we had finished our cigarettes and coffee, Kelly and I were pushing our chairs back to stand up when Spalding dropped his bombshell.

“I’m told that you are two very unusual young ladies”. Kelly sat down again, stricken faced and I guessed that Ashley must have told Spalding our true gender. I no longer felt sorry for having beaten the little worm.

“It’s no matter to me”, Spalding continued. “You’re both good lookers and I wouldn’t throw either you out of my bed, unless it was your mistress or Diana Dors wanting to get in, of course. I’m not going to tell any one else, especially the lads of my family. You should have heard them over breakfast this morning, discussing which one of you that they would rather roger. I could testify what great tits you both had but it was Miss Downham’s legs that got the most votes. Good luck to you if either of you do you take a fancy to any of them but do let me know how you got on. It’s always good to have inside information on what them randy buggers have got up to.”

Kelly gave me a superior smile and I didn’t know whether to feel annoyed at this rejection or not. As we went out of the door, I turned and looked back. Spalding had the paper up again and Doris had come in to clear our plates on to a tray.

To continue this story, click To The Top Of The Hill

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