Settling In

You can read the story so far from the beginning here

“This is too much” Bracken wailed. “This is too many for the work I do.” She grabbed a cloth and started polishing the already immaculate sink.

Hilary shook her head. “The clothes aren’t even new,” she said. “It’s just the basics. You need to keep yourself warm.”

“And I has a bed!” Bracken added, moving on to the taps. “With blankets! I am used to sleeping at the hearth.”

“Those were the terms,” Hilary said helplessly. “A safe place to eat, your food and drink, a glass of milk…”

“And you pour it fresh every morning for me!” Bracken interrupted. She rinsed out the cloth and started wiping down the gleaming doors of the under sink cupboard.

“A coin at Christmas and I insisted on clothes for your back and time off on Sunday,” Hilary continued.

 “It is a very rich wage.” Bracken wrung out the cloth and rinsed it again. “There is much to do to earn it.”

“Brownies feel that they must give value for money, or the deal is unequal.” Lord Peregrine appeared at Hilary’s side. She jumped.

“Bracken, we need to understand the value we each bring,” Hilary said, ignoring Lord Peregrine. “Having you here as company is a…” she searched for the right words. “It’s a comfort to me. It makes me feel better. And I’m enjoying teaching you to cook, so it’s no hardship.”

A sliver of tension eased from Bracken. “That is a kind reassurance,” she murmured, pausing. “But the clothes are so fine.”

“Your work has value,” Hilary said.

“I must work so hard and I has no rest for these clothes.” Bracken was almost sobbing. She looked around frantically. “I can clean out the cupboards.”

Hilary scrabbled for ideas. “Before you start that, why don’t we sit down and talk about it.” She lowered herself into a kitchen chair. “You ask for food, don’t you?” she said. “And I worry that you’re not eating enough.”

“The food is splendid, more than I is used to,” Bracken wiped a stray tear from her eye and shuffled into a chair across from Hilary.

Hilary frowned and turned to Lord Peregrine. “Exactly how much did you pay this poor thing and how are her expectations so low?”

Lord Peregrine shrugged. “She owed duty as part of the court.” He looked away from Hilary’s dark expression. “And I haven’t interacted with brownies for centuries, so we worked from books.”

Hilary closed her eyes for a moment. “If you were mortal, and part of the human world, I would need to pay you the minimum legal wage,” she told Bracken. “That’s £12.21 per hour right now. I looked it up. I don’t know how many hours you’ve done already, but I’m sure that I owe you money if we stick to that.”

Bracken looked appalled. “I can’t work for money,” she said. “Nots like that! I is a proper brownie and I know my station.”

“I heard rumours of a family of brownies who ran a cleaning company,” Hilary said. “I’m not sure of the details but they cleaned only the most expensive places and they were raking in money. They were worth a fortune.”

Bracken hunched over. “But I is all alone,” she said. “And I wish to learn the cooking.”

“She will go mad if she doesn’t have work,” Lord Peregrine slid gracefully into the chair next to Hilary. “That’s what drove her to leave. She wanted to learn more than I could teach.”

Bracken looked at Hilary beseechingly. “Please, do not pay those wages,” she begged. “I work for food and drink and a place to sleep.”

Hilary tried to work the angles. “If people think that you’re not being paid, I could be in trouble with the police.” She watched Bracken’s eyes widen in horror. “In fact, I could go to prison.”

“Really?” Lord Peregrine asked.

Hilary nodded. “There are all sorts of subtleties,” she said. “And I’ll be honest, no-one is likely to investigate unless a report is made to the police.” She paused dramatically. “But what if someone sees you in bad clothes and looking hungry. They may ask the police to talk to me, even though we are both doing are best.”

“We mustn’t do that!” Bracken cried.

“So you need to have proper clothes and decent food,” Hilary said. “And I have to be able to show that you have a bed.”

“But that is such a rich wage,” Bracken whispered.

Lord Peregrine held up a hand. “Please allow me to conduct this negotiation,” he said. “I’m sure that I can work something out.”

“Will it be fair?” Hilary asked. “I’ve heard all about fae bargains.”

Lord Peregrine looked hurt. “This is a member of my court,” he huffed. “Of course it will be fair on her.” He shifted. “And it will be fair to you as well,” he added begrudgingly. “You are too useful at the moment for me to risk annoying.”

“I’m relieved,” Hilary said.

Lord Peregrine turned his considerable attention to Bracken. “How many hours does it take to keep this cottage clean?”

Bracken waved an airy hand. “I is skilled as a brownie,” she said confidently. “I is competent and I is organised. This stays tiptop clean with perhaps one hour each day.”

“Only an hour?” Hilary said sceptically.

“It took me a few hours to bring up to my decent standard,” Bracken admitted. “Of course, you don’t know the brownie way and your towels were folded all incorrectly.”

“So you should get at least as much food and drink, with clothes, that come to £12.21,” Lord Peregrine said. “That’s every day.”

Bracken looked alarmed. “But I also is getting teaching,” she said. “And kindness. There is a cost and more than £12.21.”

“Miss Hilary has already stated her enjoyment of teaching,” Lord Peregrine said. He turned to Hilary. “May I have as many receipts for your grocery shopping as you have, plus the receipt for the clothes.”

Hilary dug in her pockets and rummaged in her purse and bag and produced a handful of paper slips. “These are the receipts that I have. The tags are still on the clothes. They’re only from the charity shop.”

“They is good clothes with nothing wrong with them,” Bracken said indignantly. “They do not even need a mending.”

“But their cost is known,” Lord Peregrine said.

*****

The debate was on. Hilary eased out of the chair and filled the kettle at the shining sink, guiltily wiping up any water splashes before sliding the kettle onto the wood stove. She really needed a cup of tea right now.

“But that is a proportionate,” Bracken said. “I did not eat the whole pan of the stew.”

Hilary rinsed the teapot with hot water from the tap and dropped in two Yorkshire Tea teabags. This discussion looked like it could go on for some time. She pulled out three mugs from the cupboard and the pen and pad of paper she used for shopping lists.

“Thank you,” Lord Peregrine said, taking the pen and paper. “Okay, looking on the internet…”

“This is complicated and right,” Bracken said.

“This jar of paprika has 50 grams.” Lord Peregrine frowned. “What are grams?”

Hilary pulled the biscuit tin from the shelf. “There are about twenty five grams to each ounce, if you are converting a recipe,” she said. “It’s close enough.”

Lord Peregrine’s eyes narrowed. “Hmm. Well, we shall see.”

Hilary pulled out the milk from the fridge. Bracken usually had a strong cup of tea with a glass of milk on the side. She glanced at the two fae creatures bent over her kitchen table. It sounded more complicated than an international trade agreement.

“And according to this on the internet, there are four tablespoons of paprika per ounce,” Lord Peregrine said.

Hilary shook her head and piled gingersnaps onto a side plate which she slid between the negotiators, next to the paper. The kettle was starting to bubble and she dropped a single Earl Grey teabag into one of the mugs.

“But it was no tablespoons!” Bracken insisted. “I made most careful notes. It was one teaspoon for the pan with the other rich spices.”

“It sounds delicious,” Lord Peregrine said with a trace of envy in his voice. He glanced up at Hilary as she placed the sugar bowl in front of him. “Will there be any spare for dinner tonight?”

“Of course,” Hilary said, adding the milk jug and a glass of milk in front of Bracken. Using a milk jug instead of just pouring straight from the supermarket container only added to washing up as far as she was concerned, but it kept Bracken happy.

“Does it count as continuing in the cooking if the stew is just on the cooking stove without any stirring or additions?” Bracken said as she frowned down at the sprawling calculations on the pad.

“And how many teaspoons to a tablespoon?” Lord Peregrine tapped the pen on the table. “Thank you,” he sighed as Hilary placed the steaming mug of Earl Grey in front of him. “And you have provided biscuits.”

“I also worked on those,” Bracken said anxiously. “I is learning all different cooking.”

Lord Peregrine bit into a gingersnap with a satisfying crunch. “This is delicious!” Bracken beamed with pride.

“You are going to drive yourselves mad if you try and work out the costs of herbs and spices,” Hilary said. “And it’s three teaspoons per tablespoon, so 24 teaspoons in one of those small jars which sounds pretty implausible to me. Why not assume 50p for herbs, spices, oil, salt and that sort of thing.” She placed the teapot and mugs for her and Bracken on the table. “It’s a fae trap, if you ask me. You can chase down tiny amounts to smaller and smaller quantities, but all that will do is fill paper with calculations.” She poured a generous splash of milk into her own mug. “I think that it’s reasonable to assign a cost per day for food. Sometimes the actual cost of the food will be more and sometimes it will be less, but it will work out around the same amount over time.”

Lord Peregrine looked thoughtful. “You are correct. I could feel myself being consumed by the question.”

“What is a fae trap?” Bracken asked.

Lord Peregrine sagged a little. “Fae can get caught up in smaller and smaller details, arguing about tinier and tinier fragments, like the cost of a teaspoon of paprika, when it’s not important.” He smiled wryly at Hilary. “That’s when a pet human is useful and can pull us out of a spiral.”

“I’m not anyone’s pet human,” Hilary said tartly. “And between the food and clothes, I’m sure that I’m still underpaying Bracken.”

“If she was human, you would be right,” Lord Peregrine said. He looked thoughtfully at Bracken. “But this is an unusual situation.” He added several heaped spoons of sugar to the mug in front of him. “As your lord, I declare that the deal is fair,” he said firmly. “You will work for Miss Hilary for at least one hour per day and in return receive food, lodging, clothing deemed appropriate by Miss Hilary, a coin at Christmas and instruction in cookery. If there are any changes then I shall investigate before approving them.”

“And the glass of milk?” Bracken asked nervously.

“Included in the clause concerning food,” Lord Peregrine said loftily.

“I’m glad that it’s sorted out,” Hilary said. She walked over to the freezer. “We spent yesterday stocking the freezer with all sorts of meals. Would you like to try one? I feel like the chicken and mushroom casserole.”

Bracken nodded with enthusiasm. “That is wonderfully peppery, and much flavour.”

“I would be thrilled to join,” Lord Peregrine said. “And you must take out extra for your lodger.”

Hilary looked at Lord Peregrine with suspicion. “I already said that you could stay for dinner,” she said. “And the meals are frozen in portions. I can just take out three packages.” Her heart sank as she saw the mischief dancing in Lord Peregrine’s eyes. “What have I missed?”

“I asked you to take a lodger,” Lord Peregrine said. “But I never said it was me. You had better take out five portions of the delicious chicken and mushroom casserole. Tom has a large appetite.”

“Who is Tom?” Hilary asked, bewildered.

“Tom is your new lodger.” Lord Peregrine took another biscuit and leaned back in his chair. “And he will be here any minute now.”