by Tikiri
The two of them stood silently, scanning the room from side to side, making sure no needs went unmet. This meant there was no way I could walk up to a table unnoticed. I watched them with my fingers crossed, waiting to see if they’d move or even leave the room.
Polite laughter and chatter continued at the tea party tables, while servers moved like silent ghosts in between them. Should I wave at the Dragon Lady? Will she see me? Will she wave back? Or will she get angry at the interruption? Maybe I should I wait for everyone to finish and then walk to her table. Chloe won’t see me in the midst of everyone getting up and moving around. Or will she? She’s sharper than a fox. Maybe I’ll wait for the Dragon Lady to go to the washroom and get her attention in the corridor.
One of the servers walked toward the buffet table, and I quickly drew back into the shadows. To my delight, he picked up one of my cake trays and walked to the closest table. Using a long silver tong, he daintily picked up a cupcake and deposited it on a guest’s plate with a small bow. So that’s what Chloe had expected me to do.
I watched the waiter work his way through the room until he reached the Dragon Lady’s table. She was in the middle of speaking to Chef Pierre and picked up her dessert fork without glancing at her plate. When she did look down, she stopped talking and her mouth dropped slightly open. I watched without breathing. Does she recognize my work?
The server placed a cake on Chef Pierre’s plate. My mouth dried up. What if he hates it? What if he spits it out? I watched as he sliced a tiny piece off the cake with his fork and brought it to his mouth. He chewed and swallowed it. I think I stopped breathing. I saw him take a second bite. This time, he chewed it thoughtfully before swallowing. He sliced another piece, then another, until the little cake was gone. He stared at his plate with a funny expression.
“Mademoiselle!”
I jumped.
“May I help you?”
My heart thumped. “Hello, Chloe. I was—er—I came to see if everything was okay.”
“Everything is perfectly fine,” she snapped. “You, however, must not be here.”
“I just wanted to make sure everyone’s happy with the cakes. Checking on customer satisfaction, you know?”
“Mademoiselle, this is highly unusual.”
“I need to get a feel for my audience,” I babbled. “Find out how they eat, how they smell, how they taste. I need to know what they’re like, so I can make a better batch for tomorrow’s high tea.”
“There’s no need for all that. If a chef’s creations are not acceptable for our diners, they will be told to leave. Immediately. It is that simple.”
“But how do I know what to make tomorrow then?”
“We will inform you.” She moved a step closer. She didn’t look intimidating, but the message was clear.
“Will you ask Chef Pierre what he thinks, at least?” I said, before turning to leave.
A shadow fell on us. The head server had walked up to us.
“Everything all right, Madame Schmidt?” he asked.
Chloe straightened her jacket without taking her eyes off me. “Chef Asha was just leaving.”
I opened the door. Just as I stepped across the threshold, I heard her voice. “Why must Americans be so maddeningly boorish?”
She wanted me to hear that.
Chapter Forty-four
I closed the door behind me and managed a smile for the two guards. They didn’t return the gesture.
Feeling their eyes on my back, I walked out as casually as I’d walked in. Once I got back to the elevator foyer, I let out a big breath and pressed the button with shaking fingers. Now what?
I found my way to the main kitchen, feeling like I’d failed my mission. I could have one more chance the next day, but only if everyone else agreed. Maybe they’ve all had enough, and got back into the van. I stepped into the main kitchen from the elevator. Monsieur Wilmar was nowhere to be seen and the staff had thinned. I walked up to the kitchenette and yanked the door open.
To my relief, everyone was still there, sitting on the high chairs around the island countertop. Luc had his head down on the counter. Win was curled up in her chair, looking half-asleep. Katy was flipping through a recipe magazine, and Tetyana was cleaning her guns with a kitchen cloth, naked bullets scattered around her. My first thought was I put food on that table, you know. But this was not the time to fuss about kitchen hygiene.
“Well?” Tetyana asked, looking up.
Luc and Win stirred awake. Katy put down her magazine.
I closed the door behind me.
“How did it go?” Luc asked.
“The Dragon Lady’s here.”
“Well, that’s good news,” Katy said.
“Did you manage to talk to her?” Tetyana asked.
I shook my head. “Tomorrow,” I said, summoning my most confident voice. “This was the first step. Now she’s tried my cakes and knows I’m here, she’ll want to talk to me.”
Tetyana scrunched up her eyes and stared at me for a couple seconds before going back to cleaning her guns.
A knock on the door made us look up. It was the young Alice-in-Wonderland look-alike.
“Mäin Numm ass Greta,” she said prettily to Luc, who’d opened the door.
“Hallo, Greta,” Luc said, waving her in with a bow.
Chloe had asked Greta to take us to our lodgings. Greta didn’t speak much, but from the cautious way she regarded me, I was sure I was in Chloe’s black books. At least we hadn’t been thrown out of the castle, I thought. Not yet, anyway.
We followed the little girl through the main kitchen. She led us to the doors on the far end, where I’d found the elevator and opened the door next to it.
We climbed down to the servants’ quarters in the basement. There were no luxurious wall trimmings here. No lush carpets or chandeliers either. On both sides of the stark corridor were small rooms, each with two beds and tiny windows that opened to the parking lot on one side, and the forest on the other. Prison rooms were nicer than these, I thought.
After Greta opened the first room to us, she tipped her head to the side, tucked her hands underneath it and closed her eyes. She then opened one eye to see if we understood.
“We sleep here tonight,” I said, nodding, “Thank you, Greta.”
“Villmols merci,” Luc translated with a smile.
Greta nodded and pointed at the door through which we’d just come down. She wagged a finger at it.
“What does that mean?” Katy asked.
Luc bent down to get to her level. “So mir, Greta–ech verstin.” You can speak to me, Greta, I understand.
“Et ass verbueden fir an d’Kichen zréckzegoen,” the girl said in a sweet voice. “Dir musst héi bleiwen, bis den Här Wilmar iech rifft fir d’Owendiessen.”
“She’s saying we can’t go back to the kitchen,” Luc explained. “Not till Monsieur Wilmar calls us up for supper.”
“Oh, really?” I said. How generous.
“So they don’t want us wandering around?” Katy asked.
“I’m sure that’s it,” Luc said, straightening up.
The girl pointed at a small door nearby and another one at end of the corridor. “Dës Dier geet an den Keller an dës um Enn op de Parking.”
“Merci.” Luc nodded, and turned to us. “That door is to the cellar, and that one on the end is to parking lot.”
The girl stepped away with a shy wave. Win and Luc waved back, while the rest of us stared at the disappearing fairy-tale-like figure.
“I guess we’ll be spending the night here,” I said.
We walked over to our van and got our knapsacks filled with the fresh clothes, shoes and toiletries we’d gotten in Luxembourg City. I wanted to explore the castle grounds to see if I could find another way to get to the Dragon Lady, but Luc pointed discreetly at the two foot guards having a smoke break near the back door.
“Don’t think that’s safe right now,” he said.
So we returned to our rooms.
Tetyana took a room with Win. Katy and I picked a room together, and Luc had the smallest room with a cot to himself. We took advantage of the communal showers in the servants’ quarters, and got ready for whatever was to come next.
An hour and a half later, Greta came down to escort us to the kitchen for dinner.
The lines had clearly been drawn. The kitchen staff sat at the main table with Monsieur Wilmar at its head. Our crew had been relegated to a much smaller table in the back, ten feet away from theirs.
No one looked at or spoke to us. It was like we were at the loser table in high school, where I’d eaten most of my school lunches, when only Katy would come and sit with me from time to time.
“At least they’re feeding us,” I whispered to Tetyana.
“The Geneva Convention,” she said, with a grim smile. “You always feed prisoners of war.”
I don’t think anyone slept very well that night. The rooms were cold and the beds were hard. The stone walls didn’t allow any heat to remain inside, and there didn’t seem to be any electrical heating on this floor. It hadn’t helped that a howling wind whipped at the windows most of the night. I tossed and turned for hours and was glad when the morning light streamed through the small window.
I’d just woken up when I heard a knock on the door.
“Gudde Moien,” Greta said brightly. She was wearing the same outfit as the day before. Maybe she’s got several Alice in Wonderland costumes, I thought.
“Good morning, Greta,” I replied.
She handed me a yellow envelope and left with a wave. I stared at her back, unsure if I was still asleep and dreaming. I rubbed my eyes.
“What is it?”
I turned around to see Katy sitting up. Closing the door, I walked over to sit at the edge of her bed and pulled out a beautifully handwritten note from the envelope. My heart skipped a beat. A letter from the Dragon Lady? No, it was a menu, the menu for this afternoon’s tea party. I drew my breath in.
Katy peered over my shoulders. “Wow,” she said. “We’ll be baking all day.”
“Where do we find these ingredients?” I said, running through the list.
Chloe wanted three hundred and fifty cakes, in several different flavors. “Lemon meringue, black forest, tiramisu, candied hazelnut, hummingbird, chrysanthemum cheesecake, marzipan fruit. Oh my god, where do we even start?”
I tried to remember what I’d seen in the cellar and the fridge in our kitchenette.
“Impossible,” Katy said, shaking her head. “We won’t even have time to bake.”
I looked over the list again and nodded gloomily.
A second knock made us sit up.
“Come in!” Katy called out.
Win and Luc stumbled in, with Tetyana behind them.
“Sleep okay?” she asked.
Everyone shook their heads.
“So?” Tetyana said, “What’s the plan for today?”
I waved the menu. “Chloe just sent her commands.”
She took the list and let out a whistle. “You have to make all this?”
“By eighteen hundred, thirty hours,” Luc said, reading over her shoulder.
“They want the cakes for dinner,” Katy said, turning to me with an encouraging smile. “This means they really liked your cakes.”
“But I can’t do this,” I said, shaking my head. “They probably have this stuff in the main kitchen, but Monsieur Wilmar’s gonna kill us before he lets us touch it.”
“So what do we do?” Win asked.
“Maybe it’s time to find another way out of our mess,” I said glumly. “I guess we’ll have to take our chances with Fred and the police.”
Someone rapped on the door.
“Fruhstuck in einer halben Stunde!” Greta shouted from outside.
“Breakfast in half an hour,” Luc translated.
“Let’s have something to eat first and figure this out,” Tetyana said.
It took us half an hour to shower, dress and climb upstairs to the main kitchen.
Everyone else was already at their designated spot, and had started on their homemade croissants with jams and coffee. They’d set a place for us at the side table again. Other than desultory replies to our good mornings, everyone kept to themselves.
The chatter at the large table was subdued, everyone occupied with their food, or too intimidated by Monsieur Wilmar. Greta was all smiles and sunshine, though. She sat at the edge of her table, closest to us, and once in a while brought us the better jams and breads from her table.
I moved my half-eaten croissant around my plate, brooding. There was no way I was going to find all the right ingredients and even if I did, I wouldn’t find enough of them to make that many cakes by six thirty in the afternoon. Chloe had set me up for failure. I’d never be able to talk to the Dragon Lady, and I’d never get to meet Chef Pierre. Maybe it’s time to leave. I stared forlornly at my teacup.
“You received your menu, I presume.” It was the sonorous voice of Monsieur Wilmar.
I looked up. He was looking at me, with a glint in his eyes.
I nodded.
“I wish you lots of luck today.” His voice dripped sarcasm. I didn’t answer. He gave a satisfied grunt and went back to his coffee.
I stared at him. Is he the one who convinced Chloe to make this menu?
“Monsieur Wilmar.”
I turned to look at Tetyana.
“Monsieur Wilmar.” She raised her voice.
What’s she doing?
Everybody had turned silent.
“Ja Fraulein,” Monsieur Wilmar replied, looking at her from across his table, arms crossed.
“Are those yours?” Tetyana pointed at the stuffed boar and deer heads on the wall.
The chef straightened up and cleared his throat. “Indeed. That is my work,” he said.
“Very impressive.”
“Danke.” Monsieur Wilmar uncrossed his arms and looked at his prized possessions, his chest puffed ever so slightly.
“When did you get them?”
“The boar was in 2000 and the deer in 2010. Only one shot each. Clean and fast.”
“Point three-o-eight caliber?”
Monsieur Wilmar raised an eyebrow. “That is correct,” he said. “You know your ammunition well. You hunt, I presume, Fraulein?”
“Only with this,” Tetyana said, flipping her right jacket flap open. The handgun, fully polished after all that cleaning the day before, gleamed in the light. Tetyana’s eyes, intense and strong, stared straight at Monsieur Wilmar.
I heard a collective gasp. What’s she trying to prove? I wanted to shake her, but sat rooted in my chair.
Monsieur Wilmar’s face turned a light purple. Without a word, he poured himself another cup of coffee and started slurping it, avoiding eye contact with anyone. It took a full minute for everyone else to start eating again, and when they did, all eyes were on their plates. I gave Tetyana a What- are-you-doing look. She winked in return.
Monsieur Wilmar scraped back his chair and got up to leave. At the same time, Tetyana pulled her chair back too and stood up. Everyone froze. The only sound in the room was the tick-tock of the grandfather clock in the corner.
“Chef Asha needs special ingredients for this afternoon’s menu,” Tetyana said in her most polite voice. “We would greatly appreciate it if someone in your kitchen would assist her.”
I felt three tense seconds tick by before Monsieur Wilmar responded.
“Greta!” he yelled. “Zeig ihnen die speisekammer!”
He threw his napkin on the table and stomped out of the kitchen.
Chapter Forty-five
It took us all day, but it was worth it.
I stepped back to look at what we’d created. On the countertop stood a four-foot-tall, multi-level cupcake tower. I hadn’t had to worry about ingredients, serving platters or cake holders, because Monsieur Wilmar’s kitchen was equipped to serve a king. But I’d also noticed most of his cake pans and serving plates were as good as
new.
“He only serves Quetschentaart for dessert,” Greta said, when Luc asked about this.
“What’s a kwetshentart?” I asked.
“Open pie made with plums,” Luc explained. “It’s very popular here. The baroness probably grew up with it.”
“I think I saw one,” I said, remembering the fruit pie on the side of the buffet table the day before.
Greta pulled on Luc’s arm and said something. We waited.
“Supposedly,” Luc translated, “Monsieur Wilmar is famous in this region for his pie. That’s all the baroness normally has for dessert.”
I nodded. And he hates me now for having overturned his comfortable dessert tradition, I thought.
I looked with pride at my cake tower. The multi-tiered silver platters made the tower look formidable, royal even. I’d met Chloe’s requests and more. On the bottom tier were the Dragon Lady’s favorite black forest cakes interspersed with several of Chloe’s requests. In the middle tier, I added half a dozen peach and cream cakes to the mix, and on the top plate I arranged a dozen pineapple cheesecake bites. It was an exotic combination of cakes that the Dragon Lady always loved.
Everyone had chipped in to build this tower, even Greta, who seemed to enjoy hanging out with us. I guessed it gave her a diversion from the everyday, and a bit of satisfaction that she was, in effect, in formal charge of the foreign baking team. But that didn’t stop her from giggling as she swirled strawberry icing on a cupcake under Luc’s watchful eye.
Luc proved to be well on his way to mastering the art of cake decorating, coming up with ideas that made Katy gasp and Tetyana roll her eyes. But they worked like a charm. He seemed to have a hidden artist in him, so I let him experiment to his heart’s content.
Everyone had found a job they wanted to do, and we’d created an assembly line in the kitchen. Tetyana took charge of bringing ingredients and pans from the main kitchen, and putting dirty pans and bowls into the dishwasher once done. Katy measured the ingredients and helped me bake the cakes. Luc and Win worked on the icing and decorations while Greta inserted herself wherever she could, ending up with flour on her hair and icing sugar on her nose. My team, I thought as I watched everyone bustle around, doing their bit.
