A Spoon Filled With Sugar Read online

  A Spoon Filled with Sugar

  Michael White

  Copyright © 2016 by Michael White / EDP. All rights reserved worldwide. No part of this publication may be replicated, redistributed, or given away in any form without the prior written consent of the author/publisher or the terms relayed to you herein.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living, dead or messing about with umbrellas is entirely coincidental.

  The author can be contacted via the links below.

  Website: www.mikewhiteauthor.co.uk

  Email: [email protected]

  Twitter: @mikewhiteauthor

  Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.co.uk/-/e/B006Y7JHCK

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  Book Two: The Road of the Sun

  Back to The Light

  Book One: The Shadow Lords of Old

  A Bad Case of Sigbins

  Bee’s Knees

  The Adventures of Victoria Neaves and Romney:

  Book One: Victoriana

  Book Two: The Strange Case of the Denwick Beauchamp Fairies

  Book Three: The Vanished Man

  Book Four: The Clockwork Thief of Crickenden Broadwick

  Book Five: Romney’s Day Off (June 2016)

  Book Six: The Abbot Bowthorpe Dependables (July 2016)

  The Complete Adventures of Victoria Neaves & Romney

  Scrapbook

  The Waiting Room

  Overboard!

  Tales of the Supernatural

  Six for Hallowe’en

  Mysterious Tales

  Six of the Best

  The Fae Wynrie

  An Unremarkable Man

  Here Be Dragons!

  Over the Hills and Far Away

  Vallum Aelium

  COMING SOON:

  Montague, Hetty & Boo In

  The Mystery of the

  Hither Charcote Phantom

  Genesis Space Book One:

  Ascent to Heaven: The Church of Man

  A Spoon Filled with Sugar

  If you want to find number eighteen Cherry Hill Lane all you have to do is to ask a policeman when you spot one. He will push his helmet to one side, scratch his head as if considering your request carefully and then he will point his white gloved hand and say, “First to your left, take a second right, sharp right again and you are there. Good morning.” If you press him further however then no doubt he would be more inclined to inform you of the recent terrible deeds that have taken place there. He may even remember to whisper details of the terrible black soot marks on the pavements outside of the house, and the fact that even the heaviest of rain showers (and London has lots of those; thunderstorms too) completely fails to wash the soot marks away.

  Unlike the policeman however, I do not tolerate mere conjecture, for this is my story and the events that transpired at this address.

  I am the master of that house, my name being Geoffrey Berkeley. I am also the head of the trading department that deals with foreign bonds for the bank of Frobisher and Honeywell in the city. I reside at the above address and it is purely through neglect that I can lay at no other door than my own that I found myself on this Autumn morning in search of a new nanny. The previous nanny had left under something of a cloud without even giving notice, which I can assure you caused me a great deal of inconvenience, inconvenience that I could very well do without being a very busy career minded member of my employer, the bank.

  Katherine nana, or Kathy nana as my two children, Paul and Susan Berkeley were inclined to call her, gave a damning report on their behaviour, including (amongst other things) a complete lack of respect for her, failure to follow commands and general untidiness and laziness regarding the contents of the nursery.

  To say that I was annoyed is an understatement. Apoplectic with rage would be a more fitting description and I had little choice but to place yet another advertisement in The Times for another nanny, this being the fourth in the last three months. In the advertisement. I listed the ideal candidate for the position as requiring a firm hand and to be a disciplinarian, for I felt that my children spent too much time playing and being generally boisterous than learning respect and discipline. What i required was a nanny with a firm hand who was willing to take charge of my brood and give them some moral fibre and obedience to their parents’ wishes.

  Needless to say, my wife Wilhelmina took her usual lenient stance on my children’s upbringing saying quietly to me that it was not such a good idea to have an authoritarian figure looking after them on a daily basis, which beggar’s belief if you take Kathy Nana’s report to be true.

  “Nonsense.” I said to her as I took up a pen and piece of notepaper to draft a list of the requirements that I thought would be essential for a nanny for my two errant children. “Paul and Susan require discipline and plenty of it. There is no point whatsoever in hiring yet another weak willed nanny who will leave us without notice again in a number of weeks’ time. I will not be crossed on this, Wilhelmina!” I shouted and she gave me a glance of reluctant agreement, a look she uses far too often for my liking.

  “I suppose you know best, darling.” she sighed. “Though do try to hire someone who doesn’t smack them too much.” I snorted at this.

  “Well, Kathy Nana didn’t seem to smack them at all, and look where that has led us!” I surmised. She looked away and I noticed a small piece of paper in her hand.

  “What is this then?” I asked as she passed the irregularly folded piece of paper across to me.

  “The children have made a note of requirements of their own.” she said, smiling.

  “Have they indeed?” I laughed, unfolding the piece of paper to reveal their scruffy handwriting inside. “Look at this handwriting, Wilhelmina!” I protested, waving the paper at my wife who just raised an eyebrow in some unspoken protest I chose to ignore. I glanced at the note again in irritation. “What does this word say?” I said and was surprised as Wilhelmina snatched the paper from my hand.

  “Disposition.” she said, though I swear she crossed her eyes attempting to work it out. I sniffed angrily. “Quite a word for a child to use.” I said, not entirely displeased to see that that was what it actually said. “Though if it were a little clearer it would be all for the better I should imagine.” I continued to read the note and was quite frankly appalled by what it contained. “Rosy cheeks?” I spluttered. “Play games!” I think perhaps I need to take matters into my own hands, Wilhelmina! I shall personally supervise the appointment of a new nanny myself!”

  “Quite so.” said my wife, and with a flourish I tore the note up and threw it into the unlit fireplace, the pieces of paper scattering about the grate.

  “I expect the new nanny to mould our young brood into outstanding, and more importantly, well behaved children.” I glanced into the fireplace once again. “Preferably with excellent handwriting!” I snorted, and lit my pipe.

  Within a few days I had attended the offices of The Times and gave them the advertisement I wished them to run. Needless to say it included no mention of disposition, cheery or otherwise, and certainly did not contain any mention of games or anything of the like. A few choice phrases it did contain included, “firm”, “able to give commands”, “no nonsense”, “traditional”, “discipline” and “rules”. All in all, I was very pleased with its contents. The time and date and my address were contained in the text and that the interview process was due to start at eight am on the following Monday, which was tomorrow. I had arranged for a day’s holiday with my employers at the bank, though I had brought home with me several items of non-confidential paperwork that I would complete later on today, to give me a head start as it were upon my return to work on the Tuesday.

  Anticipating having to interview prospective candidates gave me a spring in my step, and I relished the opportunity to do so the next morning. I retired to bed early on Sunday night and slept fitfully enough, though I was woken in the early hours by a loud moaning, no doubt from the wind rushing down the chimney. The thought crossed my mind that perhaps the chimney was overdue a sweeping but it was just a fleeting idea and giving it no more thought I returned to sleep and from that point onwards slept very soundly indeed.

  The next day I rose early and attended to my appearance, dressing as one would expect for an employer who is seeking to take on a new member of staff. As is my habit I looked out of the window at the house opposite and took note of the wind direction by examining the weather vane on the rooftop of a house along the street.

  “Ah-ha there is a change!” I exclaimed as one of the servants scurried past. I fear I may have startled her as she dropped the linen she was carrying and started scurrying around picking it up again. I never could remember the girl’s name despite the fact she has been with us for quite some time, but nevertheless I was not to be deterred. “There is a change coming in!” I continued, tapping my nose as if imparting some secret knowledge. “The wind has changed direction. We have a west wind now.” The poor girl continued picking up the linen but looked at me as if I had suddenly grown two heads and a tail.

  “Very go
od sir.” she said uncertainly, almost bobbing her head in deference as she continued to pick up the dropped sheets and what have you.

  “Warmer times.” I finished and she finally picked the rest of the sheets up and made to continue on her way. I maintain a small retinue of servants to accommodate the household in the fashion that I have become accustomed to: a cook of course, a few chambermaids and to staff my house accordingly. A cook is most surely required, as are the maids, but a nanny is an absolute essential. Without someone in charge of the children chaos is sure to ensue.

  “Very good sir.” The maid repeated, whatever her name was. “Very good.” Sniffing at her apparent lack of understanding I made my way downstairs and took breakfast. Taking up the newspaper I scanned the classified section and carefully read the advertisement. Pleased to note that there were no typographical errors I put the newspaper back on the table and crossed to the window by the front door and gazed out at the road outside, pleased to note that there was a long line of ladies who were obviously nannies (their dour dress sense and general air of disappointment marked them out easily) standing on my doorstep. Even more pleased with myself than before I continued back to the breakfast room and indulged in some tea and toast. I had another fifteen or so minutes to fill as I had no intention of starting the interview process any earlier than I had stated. It was precisely eight o’clock or not at all!

  I was just commencing on my second cup of tea when I saw a bright flash of lightning from outside. This was followed three seconds later (I counted them) by a low rumble of thunder. “Three miles away!” I said out loud before continuing to eat the toast as a heavy downpour began to fall outside. This lasted a mere moment or so and then the windows of the house more or less all rattled in unison as a huge gale blew down the street. I swear even the front door shook!

  Thinking it strange that the weather was so volatile, what with the wind changing and all I crossed back to the hall and glanced out of the window to check the wind direction once again. I believe that it still said a west wind, though I cannot be sure as I was distracted by the fact that the long line of prospective nannies outside of the door seemed to have vanished! The sky was still overcast, thick black thunderheads rolling across London, though the rain by now was elsewhere. “Perhaps it was clearing the air” I thought as another flash of lightning lit the darkened street, followed shortly after by more thunder. Two seconds this time. Two miles away. I casually glanced at what appeared to be a discarded umbrella lying upon the doorstep. “How careless” I thought, dismayed that all of the nannies had disappeared, though it did cross my mind that if they were scared enough to run away from a little storm then they were obviously not of good enough stock to discipline my children! As I stood there gazing down the street there was another roll of thunder and one second later a pure blue and white bolt of forked lightning struck the road outside my house and I blinked at its ferocity.

  When my sight cleared however I was startled to see a small figure dressed all in black standing in the street exactly where the lightning had just struck! I am sure I was not but I must have been mistaken of course. As I watched the figure crossed the pavement and made for my front door. She was as I noted, dressed all in black, carrying a large carpet bag and an umbrella which despite the threat of rain was completely folded up. As she strode purposefully up to the door and rang the bell I took the opportunity to observe her. She was of uncertain age, a tight bun of hair pulling her features into sharp relief, giving her a severe and impatient look. As I stood behind the curtain she turned and smiled at me as if she knew I was there! I pulled back from the window not concerned about being caught in her gaze, but of shock as I looked at her teeth. They were thin and looked sharp, almost like that of some kind of animal predator.

  Impatiently she turned and rang the doorbell once again. I was about to rush back down the hall and take a seat in my study when I sighed at the lack of action of anyone actually coming to open the door and so as I was actually adjacent to it I opened it myself.

  “Yes?” I impatiently asked the woman stood on the doorstep as with a display of rather bad manners she pushed past me and entered the hall. To my surprise she hurriedly placed her umbrella in my coat stand and turned to face me.

  “Mister Berkeley?” she asked quite firmly. I was rather taken aback and so was rather stuck for a response only other than to agree.

  “Yes?” I replied as she raised an eyebrow at me.

  “Mister Geoffrey Berkeley?” she asked even more forcefully, and I found myself agreeing.

  “The same.” I stuttered and she sniffed loudly and walked into my study where I was forced to go chasing after her.

  “I am your new nanny.” she said, removing a glove from one hand and sitting down in front of my desk.

  “Well I rather think that I shall be the judge of that.” I said, gathering my wits as she smiled again, though thankfully this time with her lips closed.

  “Indeed.” She continued, ignoring me completely. “I shall require every second Wednesday afternoon off” she finished as I picked up my pen.

  “References?” I asked in a daze.

  “I make a habit of never giving references.” she said with a stare. “A very old fashioned way of doing things if you ask me.” My mind went blank. I am not quite sure what happened. Mayhap it was a stale piece of toast or an egg that was not quite up to standard, but I felt hot under the collar and dizzy. As if from a distance I found myself agreeing to her terms. Then the sound cleared as if a bubble had popped and I found her staring at me again as if I were some kind of insect under a microscope.

  “Are you quite well?” she asked suddenly and the truth of the matter is that at that point I didn’t feel very well at all, though I did find myself protesting that I was in extremely rude health indeed, though she did continue to stare at me as if she knew that I was not telling the entire truth.

  “I think I shall put you on a week’s trial.” she smiled. “I should be sure by then.”

  “Very well.” I stuttered as my wife entered the study.

  “Ah. Wilhelmina. There you are.” I said as the nanny examined her from head to foot with what can only be described as disdain.

  “This is our new nanny.” I announced as my wife smiled back at the newcomer in delight. “Mrs…” I began as I suddenly realised I had no idea what this woman’s name actually was at all!

  “Nanny.” she said firmly, rising and picking up her carpet bag from where she had casually dropped it on the floor next to the chair. “Just call me nanny.” she sniffed. “That will suffice.

  My wife raised an eyebrow at me and I merely shrugged as the woman made her way back into the hall and was now looking up the stairs.

  “I shall see the children now.” she said, and there was that razor toothed smile again.

  “Very well.” said Wilhelmina. “I shall take over from here.” she said to me and I stood dumbstruck as my wife led the way up the stairs attempting to involve the new nanny in idle chatter as they went. Not with much luck as it would appear. I felt dizzy and hot again, and as I watched them go up the stairs my eyes played tricks on me again as I was sure I saw the nanny sit side saddle on the banister and began sliding up it, while my wife strode on ahead completely oblivious. Making my way back to the study I loosened my tie and sat down, calling for tea, for I was sure that that would make me feel better. Later on I took it upon myself to post a letter at the post box at the corner of Cherry Hill Lane and I was surprised to find the weather sunny and quite warm. Perhaps the change in wind had done the job!

  As I crossed the street outside however I happened to look back at my house and I could not shake the feeling that the windows looked dark and storm filled; almost as if the thunderstorm was inside the house somehow. Shaking this odd notion from my mind I continued on my constitutional.