Unseen Academicals - Terry Pratchett [116]
‘Just like Sleeping Beauty, ain’t it?’ said Pepe behind her.
Glenda ignored him and hurried along the rows of ovens. ‘She’s been baking pies. What on earth did she want to come along and bake pies for? She’s never been any good at baking pies.’ That’s because I’ve never let her bake a pie, she told herself. That’s because as soon as she found anything difficult you took it away and did it yourself, her inner voice scolded.
Glenda opened oven door after oven door. They had arrived just in time. By the smell of it, a couple of dozen assorted pies were cooked to a turn.
‘How about a drink?’ said Pepe, in whom thirst sprang eternal. ‘I’m sure there’s brandy. Every kitchen has some brandy in it somewhere.’
He watched as Glenda pulled the pies out, using her apron to protect her hands. Pepe regarded the pies with the indifference of a man who likes to drink his meals and listened to Glenda’s sotto voce monologue as pie after pie was laid out on the table.
‘I never told her to do this. Why did she do this?’ Because I did tell her to do this, sort of, that’s why. ‘And these are not half bad pies,’ she said more loudly. In surprise.
Juliet opened her eyes, looked around blearily, and then her face contorted in panic.
‘It’s okay, I’ve taken them all out,’ said Glenda. ‘Well done.’
‘I didn’t know what else to do and Trev was busy with the footballing and I thought they would be wantin’ pies tomorrow and I thought I better do some,’ said Juliet. ‘Sorry.’
Glenda took a step backwards. How to begin? she wondered. How to unravel it and then ravel it all back up again in a better shape because she had been wrong? Juliet hadn’t just walked up and down with clothes on, she had become some kind of a dream. A dream of clothes. Sparkling and alive and tantalizingly possible. And in Glenda’s memory of the fashion show, she literally shone, as if being lit from the inside. It was a kind of magic and it shouldn’t be making pies. She cleared her throat.
‘I’ve taught you a lot of things, haven’t I, Juliet?’ said Glenda.
‘Yes, Glenda,’ said Juliet.
‘And they’ve always been useful, haven’t they?’
‘Yes, Glenda. I remember it was you that said I should always keep my hand on my ha’penny and I’m very glad that you did.’
There was a strange noise from Pepe, and Glenda, feeling her face go red, didn’t dare look at him.
‘Then I’ve got a bit more advice for you, Juliet.’
‘Yes, Glenda.’
‘First, never, ever apologize for anything that doesn’t need apologizing for,’ said Glenda. ‘And especially never apologize for just being yourself.’
‘Yes, Glenda.’
‘Got that?’
‘Yes, Glenda.’
‘No matter what happens, always remember that you now know how to make a good pie.’
‘Yes, Glenda.’
‘Pepe is here because Bu-bubble wants to write something about you,’ said Glenda. ‘Your picture was in the paper again this morning and—’ Glenda stopped. ‘She is going to be all right, isn’t she?’ she said.
Pepe paused in the act of surreptitiously removing a bottle from a cupboard. ‘You can trust me and Madame on that,’ he said. ‘Only people who are very trustworthy would dare to look as untrustworthy as me and Madame.’
‘And all she will have to do is show off clothes—Don’t drink that, that’s cider vinegar!’
‘I’m only drinking the cider bit,’ said Pepe. ‘Yes, all she’ll have to do is show off clothes, but to judge from the mob back at the shop there’s going to be people who want her to show off shoes, hats, hairstyles…’
‘No hanky panky,’ said Glenda.
‘I don’t think you’ll find, anywhere in the world, a greater expert in both hanky and panky than Madame. In fact, I would be surprised if you, Glenda, knew one hundredth of the hanky and panky that she does, especially as she invented quite a lot of it herself. And since we’ll notice it when we see it, we’ll keep an eye on her.’