Chapter 23 - Winter Wedding #22
KLEMPNER
There’re plenty of hands on the work now. I stand back and watch.
James appears at my side. “How much of my brandy did you dose Kirstie with? And yes, I’ve noticed
the level in the bottle falling. Now I know where it was going.”
“To a good cause, I think you’ll agree.”
“How much has she drunk?”
I give the sk a shake. It sloshes inside. “Maybe half. Want to help me with the rest?” I tip back a
small sip then pass him the bottle.
He pulls a face, then ncing furtively around. “Oh, fuck it.” The sk tips back and empties with a
small sucking sound.
Ryan appears at my shoulder. “What did you say to Kirstie? Whatever it was…” He leans forward,
sniffing. “Brandy?”
“Yup. Got a problem with that?”
“Nope. Look at her…”
To a backdrop of the smashed window and the river, the crashed tree and the scaffolding, the chain of
volunteers is rescuing the remains of the rescuable from the debris. In the foreground, a conveyor belt
of aged aunts is lining up with small children to take their turn at having their pictures taken with a
smiling Kirstie.
“It’s going to be a unique photo album,”ments James.
Ryan ps me on the shoulder. “Thanks, Larry. I can handle this…” He waves a hand across the
devastated dining hall…. “… this shite… But I wanted this to be Kirstie’s day and…”
A short kid with a handful of cake and about as much again smeared over his face rushes out of the
line and up to me. “You Cara’s Grandad K?”
“That’s right. Why d’you ask?”
“Is it right about the maggots?”
Ryan and James exchange nces… Hearing ice creaking under my feet, I reply carefully. “Yes, it’s
true.”
“They wuzing out her eyeballs?”
“Yeeesss…”
“Just her eyeballs? Or wuz it like her nose and her mouth too?” The cake aimed roughly at his mouth,
anotheryer of chocte veneer is stered over his face.
“Yes. Her mouth and nose too.”
“That’s totally sick!” He breaks into a pumpkin grin. “Hey, can I stand next to you for my photo?”
The ground shifts under my feet. “I suppose so.”
“Great!” He thrusts a sticky hand at mine. “C’mon… Hey! I’m having my photo with Grandad K!”
Some elderly harridan in purple stamps forward, a tissue gripped in one hand. Advancing with purpose
in her eyes, she snags him by the arm, bringing him screeching to a halt. Stooping to his eye level, she
spits on the tissue then uses it to clean away the chocte pebble-dashing his face.
The outer doors swing open and Michael enters with Haswell. His voice raised. “Alright everyone, the
coaches are here. Everyone on board please.”
Haswell makes a bow and a flourish of the arm to Kirstie. “Your carriage awaits. Elizabeth, perhaps you
could help Kirstie get to the car without wreaking any more damage on Mitch''s workmanship. Ryan,
would you like to apany your wife please.”
*****
JAMES
Children cluster around Klempner. His eyes dart, one way and the other, his expression is… hunted…
Close by, foot tapping, Mitch watches him.
“''lo.”
Klempner looks around, then down, to where a small figure of indeterminate sex tugs at his trouser leg.
It could be a girl. “Paulie sez you was with a maggotydy and I sez that int true. So, is it true? She
was all maggoty?”
Pain flits across his face. “Yes, it''s true.”
Her mouth opens to an O. “Wicked!” She rushes off, arms waving. “It IS true.”
Do I take pity on him?
Making my way through the throng of wedding guests, I stand close by him. My voice low. “What are
you looking for?”
His lips barely move. “A legitimate reason to not be here.”
I run that through my social trantors… “Legitimate meaning, eptable to Mitch?”
“That’s about it, yes.”
I raise my voice, p him on the shoulder. “Larry, I''m shorthanded in the kitchen. Can I borrow you?”
His eyes widen. “Abso-lutely.”
Mitch’s eyes narrow as she watches us leave.
*****
Sally’s expression is horrified. “How many? I can’t amodate that many covers. James, we’re
already fully booked. We don’t have the tables, the staff, the stores…”
“Calm down, Sally. I’m sorry to drop this on you, but there’s no alternative. We’re not going to see
Kirstie and Ryan’s wedding day ruined when there’s something we can do about it. We’ll figure
something out.”
Wringing her hands, “James, I’m not trying to be difficult, but we don’t have enough in stock. We’re
booked right through the New Year.”
“If you empty the stocks today, it doesn’t matter. I’ll go into the City tomorrow and restock with anything
you need.”
Her mouth quirks. “You mean you’ll send me out with a shopping list to the supermarket. The
wholesalers are closed now until January.”
“Fair enough…”
“Staff?” she says. “The kitchen staff are knocking off in an hour. They have homes to go to.”
“Any that stay will be paid double-time. I’ll be here as long as I’m needed. Larry’s here to help. Now…
what do we have plenty of?
Her reply is prompt. “Turkey.”
Of course we do…
“Alright, let’s strip those carcasses. I''ll make curry.” I turn, scouring the kitchen for ideas. “There’s not
the time to oven-roast whole turkeys so…”
Sally folds her arms. “Not everyone likes curry, James. Especially the older ones.”
Klempner sniffs. “How about the original idea. Kiev?”
“Turkey Kiev? The breasts are huge.”
He shrugs. “So cook them in the normal way and serve them sliced.”
“Good idea.”
Sally is looking more rxed. “What about the children?”
“Larry, take the turkey legs, slice them up into finger-sized pieces and we’ll serve them as nuggets for
the kids.”
Sally shouts across the kitchen. “Billy, get that stale bread from therder. Mr Alexanders is going to
need breadcrumbs. Then whisk up half a dozen eggs with milk. Then...”
I return my attention to Klempner. “What are your cooking skills like?”
This belongs ? N?velDra/ma.Org.
“I can feed myself if that''s what you mean, but I''m not up to your standard. Just tell me what you need
doing.”
The door bangs open and Michael marches in. “James, got some more recruits for you. This is Ryan’s
Uncle Guido. He’s the chef at Luigi’s restaurant in the City. And this is Ryan’s Aunt Eileen. They’ve both
“All volunteers are wee…”
“… and I’d like to take Larry off you. We can use his skills better in the gym. You can rig up the lighting
for us, can’t you, Larry?”
Klempner unravels his apron… “Certainly well enough for an evening.” …and Eileen all but snatches it
from his hand… “… Lead the way.” As the doors swing closed behind them, I hear Klempner’s voice.
“Are you on single phase or three-phase out there?”
I turn to ourtest staff members. “Let me introduce you. This is our head chef, Sally. Given the
circumstances, there’s no particr menu. Just cook what you’re good at and that we can turn out
quickly for hungry mouths.”
Guido’s eye sears across the kitchen. He sniffs then, heavily ented, speaks. “What do we have to
work with?”
Eileen pipes up. “Do you have potatoes?”
Sally’s face clears. “Yes, sacks of them. Out in the roots cer. Billy,” she yells. “Take Eileen and Guido
through our supplies. Show them what we have.”
*****
Twenty minutester, I’m more confident we might have a servable meal for our unexpected party.
Sally rises to the challenge of having another chef in her kitchen, although I notice that they work as far
from each other as space allows.
Eileen peers over Guido’s shoulder. “What’s that you have boilin’ away there?”
He barely looks at her. “Gnhi.”
Her jaw ckens. “What’s nokki?”
Guidoes to life. “Gnhi is a delicacy of my home country…” He raises hands, punctuating his
words with chops to the air… “…often described as a substitute for pasta, but that does it insufficient
justice. Properly served, it is a vehicle for the most…” He rings thumb and forefinger to his lips… “…
delicate of apaniments. Ricotta and spinach are my personal favourites. It may incorporate
semolina or polenta…” His arms are waving like the maddened conductor of some orchestra… “…and
may be servedyered with butter or a fine quality cheese…”
I cut him off before he delights us with the entire encyclopedia of Italian cuisine. “Eileen, it’s a potato
dumpling, served with the sauce of your choice.”
“Why couldn’t he just say so? I’d have understood right off then.”