It shouldn’t have been possible. Yet, no matter how Daven looked at it, there it was: his employer’s piece de resistance, the Pule cheese he’d gone to so much trouble and effort to collect, was gone.
Gone! Vanished as if it had never existed in the first place.
“How vexing,” he murmurs, biting his thumb in thought. Where could it be?
“Daven? What’s wrong? You look troubled!” speaks a familiar voice, and he turns to face the head-maid, a young man named Bryce. Frowning, he suddenly nods, clapping his hands together.
“Bryce, do me a favor, and gather all the staff: tell them we are to meet in the main hall. I’m sure you won’t mind?”
“Huh? Uh, sure thing, but-?” Daven shakes his head firmly.
“There’s no time: just do as I ask, please.” Evidently deciding he won’t risk any further argument, Bryce nods, disappearing out of the kitchen with a purpose. Daven nods himself, heading towards the hall to await the staff.
It takes some time, but, eventually, all the staff gather, silent and patient, though more than a few with fixed, concerned expressions on their faces. Daven faces them all, stern look on his face.
“Malinda has informed me of an…unfortunate development,” he speaks, voice quiet, and measured like hour-glass sand.
“Out with it, then: did you burn the bird?” chortles Lizbeth, head of grounds-keeping. Malinda bares her teeth in irritation.
“No, you heel: I don’t BURN poultry!” Here, she sighs, shaking her head.
“No, this is much worse, as it can’t be simply rectified.”
“I mean, it can’t be as bad as the time Her Ladyship-,” pipes up Genny, a young assistant to Liz.
“Worse,” insists Malinda gravely.
“The Pule that Her Ladyship requested for the party is gone.” There’s a collective gasp, and Daven nods gravely.
“If it were merely an issue of monetary standing,” he begins, “This situation could be easily resolved, and Her Ladyship need not even know of it.
“However, given the scarcity of Pule, it would be impossible to replace on the eve of her celebration.” Now the staff are grim.
“Goodness: this is more serious than I thought,” murmurs Bryce thoughtfully.
“You can say that again! Her Ladyship will be absolutely distraught if we can’t find it!” worries Vidiya. Daven frowns, nodding.
“Precisely so,” he agrees.
“Well…what do you propose we do?” questions Henry quietly. Daven turns his gaze to him.
“I propose we split into teams, and search the house. There will be three teams, and they will be built as follow: Lizbeth, you and Genny search this hall. Bryce, you and Vidiya search the kitchen, in case a fresh pair of eyes are in order. Malinda, you will come with me, and we’ll start searching the dining room, as that is the last place you recall seeing it, yes?” Malinda nods.
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Good.
“You all have your orders, and those of you not assigned to teams would do better to go wait out in the gardens while we solve this conundrum. Pretend you have the afternoon off, if you wish: I see no issues, as most the work is already done.” There’s various nods and agreements as several staff members head outside, while those staying to search begin to do so, splitting off.
“Alright: walk me through what happened,” speaks Daven crisply, as he and Malinda enter the dining room. Malinda nods, frowning slightly.
“Yes, right.
“Well, let’s see: I was bringing the dish out to the table, so that it might be portioned out for Her Ladyship’s party tonight. I turned to set it on the table, and as I did, I suddenly recalled the ham I had roasting in the ovens! I left the Pule where I sat it, it shames me to say, but I hadn’t reckoned on a-!” Daven holds his hand up in a stalling gesture.
“Calm yourself, Malinda: we’ve no proof that anything has happened, yet.” Malinda takes a sharp breath, nodding quickly.
“Right, right.
“I went and checked the ham, and it was perfection, and is already sliced up nicely. When that was done, I thought I’d better come check on the Pule, which I sat right HERE, but…” Here, she sighs, gesturing vaguely at the empty space.
“Well, as you can see, it’s now gone. I’m not sure where it could have possibly got to, except maybe one of the Youngers saw it and thought it a regular cheese?” Daven shakes his head.
“No: I think if anyone made that mistake, it certainly wouldn’t last for long. It would be unlike anything any of them had ever tasted.” Malinda sighs, nodding, and Daven frowns, leaning towards the table and inspecting it closer.
“I assume you plated it, yes?” he speaks, voice very matter-of-fact.
“Yes, of course! I’m not an AMATEUR!”
“I certainly wasn’t meaning to imply such a thing: I was merely remarking on the impressiveness of both dish AND cheese to apparently vanish into thin air.” Malinda blinks, then frowns, nodding.
“I get what you mean: whomever took the cheese likely took the plate, too!” Daven nods patiently.
“That is exactly my meaning. Also, was this chair moved like this before?” Malinda frowns at the chair now, and slowly shakes her head.
“Ah, no: it wasn’t. When did it..???” She trails off, and Daven kneels down, so that he can inspect the chair more closely. Blinking, he frowns a little, spying something under the table, previously hidden to inspection. He reaches towards it, retrieving the wayward object, and holds it in the flat of his palm: sitting there is a small barrette, decorated with a ruby shaped like a hibiscus. Malinda blinks, and Daven sighs.
“No.”
“Oh, never say never. Let us go find our wayward Ladyship.”
In fifteen minutes, they end up at a door to a study, one not usually in use. Daven pushes it open, and Malinda gasps: curled up in the main chair is the small form of a young girl, a plate balanced precariously, yet carefully, on her lap, hair spilling over her shoulders unrestrained.
“She…the…” stammers Malinda, and Daven comes perilously close to smiling as he nods.
“Malinda, I do believe it’s safe to assume our Ladyship knows what happened to her Pule, and that you will not be held responsible for its disappearance. Though, do take more care in the future to not allow such an event to occur.” Malinda opens her mouth, then snaps it shut, nodding.
“I’ll go let the others know they may stop searching,” she speaks, voice now laced with amusement as the situation fully hits her. Daven nods.
“Thank you,” he speaks, approaching the small child. He chuckles, gently kneeling in front of her, taking the plate off her lap. She blinks at him owlishly, forest green eyes still clouded with sleep.
“Daven?” she mumbles.
“Yes, my Lady.”
“But…how’d you find me? I thought I was so careful.” Daven smiles warmly, producing the barrette that had been dropped on the floor.
“Unfortunately, you left evidence of your crime, my Lady,” he speaks, voice falsely grave. She smiles apologetically.
“I’m sorry, Daven, really. Just, it smelled so good, and I thought it would be best to try some NOW, and…well…” Daven chuckles, helping her to stand and turning her around, putting the top half of her hair back into its French braid, using the barrette to keep it whole.
“Well, I assume the Pule was to your satisfaction, my Lady?”
J.A.S Writings 