Whoo 2 whole new chapters. Apologies for all 'happy families' stuff. I promise it will get less syrupy soon. Honest.
A light rain was falling as a carriage pulled up outside the Crane residence. The driver, a dapper fellow in the uniform of some high and mighty establishment, stepped down from the reigns, and opened the door.
Onto the step came one dainty foot, then another, both in white silk, heeled shoes. Then a cream hemline of a voluminous dress came tumbling out, and the figure stepped down into the street.
It was Katrina, complete with matching handbag and delicate parasol. She put up the parasol, reached into her bag to pay the coachman, then set off up the pavement, a small piece of paper clutched in her gloved hand. She checked whatever was written on it, and then hurried forward a few more steps. Eventually she came to a front door, banged the knocker, and then stood back.
It took a little while for anything to happen. She was just debating whether to knock again, or whether indeed Ichabod had written the wrong house number down, when the door opened.
She screamed, one hand going to her mouth, the other tightening its grip on the parasol, ready to strike out at the monster leaning out the door towards her. She had taken three steps back before the face took on a puzzled expression, and said:
"What is it, Miss Katrina?"
Katrina pointed wordlessly at his face. The boy went cross-eyed trying to see what was wrong. Katrina reached into her bag and produced a small hand mirror. She passed it over and Masbath looked.
"Ah."
"Yes. Quite. You aren't the latest assault victim are you?"
"Oh no. It's cranberry jam."
"Why are you covered in cranberry jam? And come to that, why are you covered in white powder? Are you intending to scare Ichabod witless when he comes home, by leaping out of a cupboard?"
"No! I was tidying the kitchen."
"Tidying? Well never mind. Get inside before anyone sees you! You look like a corpse!"
Now over the initial shock, she found the whole thing rather funny, and had to suppress a giggle as Masbath stepped back to let her into the hallway. She propped her parasol up by the door, and followed him through to the kitchen.
"Oh dear God!"
There had been a riot, surely. Some disgruntled police chief had taken an even stronger dislike to Ichabod than normal, and had sent a gang round to vandalise the house. That could be the only explanation. Katrina stared, aghast.
Masbath, who was viewing the kitchen, mindful of its previous appearance, had to say that what hadn't been done then, had certainly been done now. He wasn't sure how it had happened really, but one thing had led to another, and now the tiles were plastered with cranberry jam and the remains of a jar. The flour had intensified, and worst of all, and this was a new one even on Masbath, Ichabod was sprawled on the floor, unconscious.
"Ichabod! Oh God Masbath what happened?"
"I don't know. He was fine a minute ago."
Katrina ran over to him, kneeling down by his head to pat his cheeks gently. Masbath looked around the room, trying to think what had caused the constable to faint. Then he saw it. Halfway up the table leg was an enormous spider. Its legs were long and spindly, and it moved in a shuffling creep. Masbath stepped gingerly across the floor to it, caught it by a leg, and threw it out of the window.
On the floor, Ichabod was slowly coming round. Katrina sat back to give him space, and his eyes fluttered open. He turned his head to look at her.
"Katrina?"
"Good afternoon, Constable. Did the crime scene upset you?"
Her voice was kindly, and her smile gentle. Ichabod sat up and groaned.
"I thought you were tidying up, but it appears you have done more harm than good."
"Yes, I fear you may be right…"
Katrina stood up, and dusted flour from her skirts. Ichabod joined her, not bothering to brush his clothes, as no amount of brushing would remove the jam.
"Well, I think the best course of action is for you to have a bath. Masbath and I will clean up here."
Masbath stared at her in bewilderment. Katrina shooed Ichabod from the kitchen, and then turned back to the mess.
"Well, lets get started."
Ichabod stumbled down the stairs a half hour later, in clean clothes and free of any foodstuffs. Opening to door to the kitchen, he dreaded seeing Katrina and her beautiful dress in ruins.
The room now sparkled. Everything that could gleam did so with zeal, and even some things that didn't usually now had a shine. In the middle of the room stood Masbath and Katrina, the boy now notably cleaner, and the woman smiling serenely as if she'd taken up waiting for a career.
"But how…?"
He looked to Masbath, who shrugged. Katrina just smiled.
"I have always wanted to be the lady of the house."