There I found the housemaid, Jessica, but no parlourmaid. Jessica told me that there was a constant procession of housemaids and parlourmaids; nobody would stay long because of Lady Gibbons’ temper. ‘She’s an absolute cow,’ Jessica said. ‘Mean as a muck-worm, eyes like a gimlet, and a nose like a bloodhound.’ I thought, well this is fine, this is a lovely job I’ve come into. I said, ‘What do you mean, a nose like a bloodhound?’ She said, ‘If you use the gas stove because you’ve let the fire get low, you’ll find her at the top of the kitchen stairs bawling down, “Are you using the gas stove, cook?” She can smell it. That’s what I mean.’The following day I came to realize how parsimonious Lady Gibbons was. I’d come from a house where the cook just telephoned for everything she wanted. Where vast quantities of milk and cream, eggs, and butter were used every day; where caviare and pâté de foie gras were quite commonplace, and where any left-overs would be thrown in the pig bucket.That first morning Lady Gibbons came into the kitchen, she walked into the larder and inspected every bit of food there.
