She bit her lip. So much for making good impressions. The past hour had shown just how far she fell short. Her good mood of the morning was eroded by this feeling she was always getting things wrong. First the misspelled social media post, then upsetting Marge, then Liam.
How bad that he’d missed out on a scone because she hadn’t checked. Especially when he had obviously worked a lot more physically than she had. Her cheeks heated again at the memory of touching him. Gosh, she hoped he hadn’t heard what she’d said about him before.
She moved around to the back and had to drag open the door. No wonder it was hard to move. There were enough dead leaves in there to cover a tree. Had people seriously been using these toilets today? Why hadn’t she checked before they started? Yet another thing she’d gotten wrong today.
At least the toilets flushed. But still, it was kind of gross. How people had been happy to use them without complaints, she didn’t know. Or maybe they had complained, but she’d been stuck in her happy bubble of social media posts and talking with her sister and hadn’t heard anything. She’d make sure to clean them soon. Maybe straight after lunch. She didn’t want to hold people up any longer and make another mistake.
She washed her hands and cleaned her face, then returned to the kitchen where Marge pointed to the sausages donated from the local grocer’s, sitting in the cool box. People could eat sausage sandwiches without buttered bread, couldn’t they? That would save time, anyway.
She gathered the materials she’d brought from Gran’s—knives, chopping boards, tongs, onions, and condiments—then moved to the trestle table. After switching on the barbecue, she sliced up then cooked the onions; then she began cooking the sausages, slicing the fat ones in half like her dad always did at home. Soon, a tantalizing smell drifted across the area, setting her stomach to rumble.
She set out the tomato and barbecue sauce bottles, plus the local brown sauce her grandmother swore people around here loved. Her mum loved HP sauce, but Gran didn’t own any, so she’d have to find some soon.
In what spare moments she could find, she went to the storage room, retrieved several of the outdoor chairs used in the café, and wiped them down.
“Ooh, what’s that amazing smell?” George asked, CeeCee yapping at her heels.
“Sit.” Liv clicked her fingers at the dog as she’d seen Gran do. The dog wiggled as it tried to obey.
“See? She’s trying, aren’t you, CeeCee?” George crooned to her pet before meeting Liv with a smile. “Very trying, right?”
The sight of a friendly face filled her eyes. Maybe it was her time of the month, but she was taking things a little too personally today.
“Liv? Is something wrong?”
“Just onions.” She sniffled.
“Oh, does cutting up onions get to you too?”
She nodded. That must be it. “Would you mind telling people we’ll be ready to eat soon?”
“Sure.” George stretched. “There’s nothing like some exercise to build an appetite. I know there will be some hungry people who missed out before.”
Liv’s heart sank. “I thought it was only Liam who missed out.”
“Liam? Oh, you don’t need to worry about him. He can always grab a snack from the kitchen if he wants.”
She frowned. She didn’t think the kitchen was open yet. But maybe he was in Marge’s good books. “I just want to make sure we’ve got enough this time.”
The volunteers soon started to arrive, and she was kept busy wielding the tongs and making sure there was enough food. She thanked each volunteer and found out where they were working. All manner of things were being attended to.
The Hall’s interior crew, led by Gran and Cara, had dusted and wiped down the Entrance Hall and just about finished the Green Drawing Room. “We’ll need to get a specialist chandelier expert in to clean those, but they can wait until we do the deep clean later in the year,” Cara said.
Or early next year, if they kept the Hall open until Christmas, like she’d thought she mentioned before. She wished she had her diary nearby to make a note. She made a note in her phone instead, then took some pics of the volunteers who seemed pretty happy, sitting on some of the outdoor seats, enjoying the sunshine. Perhaps she could post some of these and encourage more volunteers to come. The weather was supposed to be nice the rest of the week, so maybe there’d be some others who’d like to help.
Tobias appeared, leading a diverse group of dusty, dirt-smudged people, all of whom looked grateful for the chance to take a break and eat.
“There are drinks over there.” She pointed with the barbecue tongs to where she’d placed a couple of tubs from Gran’s and filled them with ice and cans of drink donated by Marge. Of course, the sun meant the ice had mostly melted by now, so some of the cans were swimming in water, but the teenagers didn’t seem to mind. How lucky that they had young bodies to help.
“I’m impressed you know how to barbecue, young lady,” an older man said.
She shrugged. “I was always my dad’s second-in-command when it came to manning the barbecue.”
“And she is an Australian, after all,” another, deeper, voice muttered.
She glanced at Liam. Had he meant to sound snarky? Probably, considering his earlier words. What had happened to the kind man of yesterday? Today, it seemed he really didn’t like her. How long had she worn that greasy soot mark before? What kind of person let a woman walk around like that? Probably the same kind who didn’t tell someone they had spinach in their teeth.
Still, she was trying hard to be nice, so that meant trying to be nice to him too. “One sausage or two?” she asked, tongs poised above the hot plate. “And don’t worry. There’s enough. I made sure to keep another dozen just for you.”
