Chapter Eight
Elizabeth slipped into bed, glancing out at the clear sky as she did. She didn't close the curtains, she found it comforting to see the moon, the open space beyond the windows. Her shower had been brief, she'd brushed her teeth and removed her makeup without the joy from the previous day or even the morning.
She wanted to see Selena, to speak with Jim and Hannah.
Just the four of them.
What had happened, exactly? She'd been sat with the Major, sitting in a not uncomfortable silence, when the soldier's booming voices, their laughter was heard in the lobby and then, suddenly, there had been shouting. Screaming. She'd ignored the Major's low warning and dashed out into the lobby to find Mitchell on the floor, Selena wide eyed and shaking like a rabbit. Hannah, stoic and Jim looking torn with wild eyes.
Clifton wouldn't tell her anything when he came to lock her door. Told her not to worry, told her it was "just banter, like"
She closed her eyes, seeing Selena's face as she did.
It didn't look like banter, that was for sure.
She sighed and moved deeper into her warm duvet.
Clifton told her to be ready at seven, ready to report for her duties.
Their new lives really had begun.
Sleep came surprisingly easy to her.
"I'm fine" Selena said, biting into a soft, white roll stuffed with some kind of tinned luncheon meat, "really"
"I told the Major it couldn't happen again" Jim insisted firmly and Selena nodded.
Wiping her hands together, Elizabeth shook her head, still processing the story she'd been told "I'm sorry that happened to you, Selena"
"Mitchell apologized" Selena's voice was cool, easy, "said it was just adrenaline. Said he didn't mean anything by it"
"He does seem pretty rough around the edges-" Elizabeth said as Jim queried, "and you're fine with that apology?"
"Yeah"
Elizabeth shook her head, "not to be rude, Selena but how much Valium did you take?"
"Yeah, how stoned are you?" Jim asked, remembering Selena's fire from the night before.
It was beyond justified but here, now, Selena was sitting before them, fresh and calm...it was a little disconcerting.
"I've...cooled down a bit" Selena nodded, finishing her roll, "Don't get me wrong guys" she clarified, looking at her friend's faces, "I'm fucking pissed, yeah? And I swear to God if I see Mitchell again" she took a breath "...but for now...for Hannah..some normalcy, some stability wouldn't be a bad thing"
Jim and Elizabeth nodded.
"For now" Jim confirmed and the three sat for a moment, thinking on it.
Could this be a permanent thing for them?
Jim opened his mouth, ready to mention his strange sense of fear from the previous evening, the worry but Selena beat him to it. Besides, it all felt a little different now, in the light of day and after a decent sleep.
He'd been silly. Mitchell had got caught up in the excitement of having found survivors, he was brash and crude anyway. Maybe it was just his humor, he got carried away. Everyone seemed decent...it was fine.
Fine.
"So what kept you in the dining room, anyway?" Selena asked Elizabeth, breaking the silence.
"The Major" Elizabeth shrugged apologetically, sipping her tea, "he told me to stay, that we're, you know-"
Jim and Selena both nodded and chimed "safe"
"-yeah. Told me if we didn't trust that we were safe, we'd always be on edge here. Told me to sit and wait and, I dunno. I did.."
The fire popped and all three turned to glance at it before Jim sighed, "right. I'm due outside. Mule work..how about you two?"
"I'm cooking" Elizabeth said, stacking their plates, "but I like cooking, so..." she trailed off and Selena nodded, "yeah you're alright at it, too"
Elizabeth smiled. That was high praise coming from Selena.
"Selena?"
"Helping Bedford. I have to inventory all the medicine I brought and also a bunch of unorganized stuff they swiped before coming here. Bedford said it was a mess, so that'll be great fun" she said dryly, "a pharmacists life never changes. Always cleaning up after doctors"
Jim grimaced. That sounded mind numbing, "Makes me glad to be chopping wood"
"How about Hannah?"
"Still sleeping"
"No, I meant her job"
"Oh. Yeah, laundry duty. It's on rotation, the Sergeant said" Selena shrugged, "our day is Sunday. Soldiers Tuesday, Thursday and household stuff on Friday. I was with her when he explained it"
"Lot to do alone" Jim mused aloud before Selena and Elizabeth scoffed.
He looked at them, clueless, "What?"
"Obviously she won't be doing it alone, Jim" Elizabeth rolled her eyes.
"We're women. One hundred percent we'll be dragged into laundry duty-"
"Ah..."Jim nodded.
Shaking her head in amusement, Elizabeth moved the plates to the sink.
"Jim?" Clifton, the somewhat friendly soldier from the previous night pooped his head into the kitchen, "gonna get going or what mate?"
Slapping his hands on his knees, Jim stood, following the soldier down the corridor and out of sight.
"Mornin' Lizzie!" Jones chuckled, almost bouncing into the kitchen. He seemed somewhat...exuberant this chilly morning and Selena watched him cautiously, as if nobody had the right to be so energetic and happy.
Elizabeth didn't know how to react. Such energy was a bit much for such an early start and such a gray day.
"He's just had his morning walk" Bedford grinned, coming in the room behind the young man.
Jones grinned, apparently totally at ease being referred to like a dog. He was already tying a pink apron around his uniform and handed a checkered yellow number out to Elizabeth.
She took it hesitantly.
"Gets messy, like, cooking does, so you wanna wear this and I dunno I wanna pair of gloves, too but we don't really have any for cooking-"
"You can't wear gloves to cook" Elizabeth shook her head.
"Dunno, think it'd make things easier"
"You have to feel the food-"
Bedford laughed, "that's well posh, that is"
"No, you know what I mean. You can't wear gloves to cook, that's just wrong"
"I was thinking, right, I was thinking about those eggs-" Jones hurried, excited, already finished thinking about gloves.
"The rotten ones?" Selena clarified with a raised eyebrow.
Jones shook his head, "nah I just reckon salt was the wrong way to go, we got this tub of oregano, see-"
Elizabeth nodded, remembering the stew she'd eaten the first night.
"-mate, ain't no chance we're having those eggs" Bedford shook his head.
"I really think we can make them work!" Jones insisted and Elizabeth wondered if he was trying to redeem himself by serving edible eggs.
"And I think I don't wanna deal with an outbreak of the shits!" Bedford shook his head, "drop the eggs, man! Christ!" he laughed.
Selena stepped into the corridor, "not that this hasn't been thrilling, yeah, but don't we have work to do?"
Pursing his lips and raising his hands, like a teenager being scolded his his mother, Bedford turned on his heels and followed Selena out of the kitchen without another word.
The fire crackled once more.
The soldiers had come and left without so much as a how do you do.
There were certainly no formalities around the lower ranking guys.
"I do think we should move away from the eggs..." Elizabeth suggested to Jones, thinking back to the food and her job at hand.
After an hour of debate, conversation, education and lots of can checking and what felt like a ridiculously long time spent rooting in the surprisingly freezing and well stocked larder, Elizabeth had convinced Jones that a pie was the way to go.
After assuring him that a water crust pastry really didn't need any eggs, something he was reluctant to accept, they got to work.
Jones, despite being a soldier, was actually very receptive and followed instructions perfectly. She'd expected him to be the one barking orders or being belligerent, unwilling to listen to her, a mere civilian, but she felt bad when she realized how nice he actually was and his energy, she had to admit, seemed to brighten her spirits.
"Right so here's the uh wood oven...Clifton heated it by, uh, burning wood.." Jones fumbled, kneeling before the intimidating ovens. They were already warm, comfortingly so and Elizabeth nodded.
"Do you know how to use them?"
"Yeah sure just..we just put in the pies and then, uh..wait? They do all the work..there's a fire over there that heats the boiler now, too, he got that set up last night..it does the work itself, we don't have to do nothin'"
"But these ovens don't have any doors?" she muttered, glancing at the stacks of pies, all waiting in a variety of pie dishes.
They'd found ten large pie dishes, ten smaller ones and fifteen individual dishes and had decided to put the topping directly in them and drape the crust over the top. It was less work but, hopefully, still delicious. They certainly looked promising, and Elizabeth and Jones had tried the filling and found it very delightful. Carrots, potato, chunks of beef and mushroom. Sure, it all came from a can, but after Elizabeth had added wine, stock, garlic and salt, the end result was very pleasant. They would have enough leftovers to store in the larder, too.
Each soldier would have a small pie, they'd boil some canned veggies and make gravy and, Elizabeth assured Jones she could show him how to make the mashed potato so that it was thick and fluffy and not even remotely watery, and bingo.
They'd agreed on the menu.
"Yeah"
"Well. Have you ever used an oven without a door?" Elizabeth asked, hoping to prompt more of a reaction from him.
"Uh..."
"Have you ever used an oven?" she laughed teasingly and Jones nudged her with a chuckling, "oi"
"I just...I dunno, is it an even heat? If it's open are they going to cook evenly?"
"Let's just try" Jones shrugged and, with a shrug of her own, Elizabeth followed him.
Surely this would be better than rotten eggs.
They'd had another cup of tea, Elizabeth laughing when she realized the soldiers might have withdrawals when they ran out of teabags but sincerely enjoying how normal, how very British she felt.
As the pies cooked and bubbled invitingly in the open ovens, Jones began to stack up a bunch of instant noodle pots.
"Lunch?" Elizabeth asked with a head tilt.
"People'll be wanting lunch in an hour and this is easiest..." Jones said, a little defensively.
"Do they eat in the kitchen?"
"Nah it's like self serve in the dining room. Everyone's got different schedules, we only really sit together as a family at dinner"
As a family.
Elizabeth blinked.
"Let's just make pasta. Cold pasta salad-"
Jones looked uncertain.
"Cook the pasta in a big pot, drain it, add tuna, add some of those tomatoes and stir in some seasoning-"
"Cold pasta...?"
"It tastes good! It's a bit healthier than instant noodles anyway, and less waste and easy because it's a one pot meal" Elizabeth promised, indignant, "besides those fresh tomatoes will be off soon and we should save the long lasting food for real emergencies-"
Jones shrugged before moving to replace the noodles, "Your funeral. They like their food..."
But, surprisingly, the pasta salad had been ridiculously easy to make and Jones had grumbled to himself that "there was no way tuna and cold pasta should taste that decent", which she took to be a good compliment.
Lugging a huge, full pot each, the gently set them down on the dining room table.
"I'll do the plates and cutlery, Lizzie" Jones offered graciously, "you wanna go check on the pies?"
She nodded, not actually wanting to be around while people collected their food. If it was bad, she didn't want to hear of it first hand.
"I'll bring you back down a bowl?" Jones offered and again, she nodded.
He was being very sweet.
"Hey" she said, looking over her shoulder to ensure they were alone, "you know we should taste the pies before serving them at dinner? It would be irresponsible of us not to"
Jones giggled with excitement and she grinned along with him.
She felt like a naughty child, sneaking a cookie from the jar.
"I'll be there in a sec!"
She smiled and turned, heading back to the kitchen.