Mrs Jellyby Novels & Stories

She leaned closer to me, whispering loudly, "Is he dead? Tell me he’s dead. I can't take another week of her talking about him like he’s Captain America." "He’s not dead," I whispered back, my stomach doing a weird, guilty flip because I knew exactly where Jeremy’s hands had been just ten minutes ago. "He’s fine." "Well, he better be," a sharp, authoritative voice cut through the room. We all snapped our heads toward the doorway. Mrs. Gable was standing there, her arms crossed tightly over her tweed blazer, her spectacles resting on the bridge of her nose. She looked us up and down, her expression a mix of strict discipline and lingering relief.

Zita offered. Rebecca didn't reply nor objected her offer. They both left the dining room and arrived at the living room. Rebecca slowed her pace when she saw who it was. It was a woman, who was in her late fifties, dressed in cream coloured dress. Her hair was short and styled to a bob. The woman caught a glimpse of Rebecca and smiled slyly. "Ah! You must be the new caretaker my son hired!" The woman said proudly, sneering at Rebecca. She looked her from head to toe and disliked her.

His pale eyes said, quite clearly, Shall I get rid of her? My eyes said, with a shrug I hoped was possible to convey via eyebrow, It’s your house and your ex. Your decision. The decision was taken out of his hands when Mrs Ainsley bustled up to Jaclyn and said, ‘I do hope you like jellied eels, Ms Lemon. It’s the chef’s special tonight.’ ‘Oh, I love them,’ Jaclyn trilled, with the conviction of someone who’d probably never let the gelatinous stuff past her lips. She turned to Lochlan. ‘I hope I won’t be intruding?’

Gable. "And how do you handle privacy, Mrs. Gable?" Lily asked, trying to sound more authoritative than she felt. "Mr. Vane is... very particular about his space." Mrs. Gable straightened her spine. "I’ve worked for the Sterling family for twenty years, Mrs. Vane. I am a ghost. You will never see me unless a room requires attention, and I certainly don't have a tongue for gossip." Lily felt a chill. A ghost. That’s what Julian wanted. A house full of efficient, silent ghosts. "The salary is well above market rate," Lily added. "But the NDA is non-negotiable."

How considerate of mean Michael to employ him, she thought. “Okay.” She replied and saw that the woman had appeared and paused halfway up the stairs. Her hands came up in an angry akimbo at her broad waist. Lilly was in her sixties and had her hair in a severe ponytail. She had been there at their welcoming too. She was also clad in a cook’s uniform. “Oh hi, Mrs. Ray.” She greeted. Her voice was lively. “Hi,” Zee responded with a slight wave. “I’m Lilly the chief cook. Nice is my assistant. Pay no heed to him. He’s a little retarded.”

Edmund three weeks old with his grandfather's name and his mother's eyes and apparently my eyebrows. Daniel two blocks from the water building things under his own name. Griffin answering questions a three week old cannot ask yet. Marcus and Sebastian on Fridays. Margaret with her window boxes and Archie and the twenty year game that landed exactly where she intended. All of it. Every piece of it. Exactly right. As it had always been going to be. From the moment a woman raised a paddle at a charity auction for a Maine vacation rental with a kitchen facing the ocean and looked across the room and found someone looking back.

Her parents won't be home, probably until midnight — depends on when the Lagos' traffic subsides. “Jessica!” Mrs. Mary, an older woman and Bankole's chief-maid, called as they emerged from the car. “Mrs. Mary,” Jessica smiled fondly at the woman, meeting her at the front of the house and stepping into her welcoming arms. Mrs. Mary was an ageing woman in her late fifties. She had a smile as bright as an angels', arms as welcoming as divinity and smelled delicious — mostly of apple sauce. She has been working for the Davies' for years now — that is, since Bankole was a child.

She took in the scent, smiling widely. "Oh Lord, I'm hungry. This smells divine!" "I imagine it is. I kept Lord Chessley's old cook, Mrs. Filbee. She's a wonder in the kitchens." He took a bite of his currant tart, the sweet taste exploding on his tongue, and took a seat in a chair by the fire. Audrey took the other empty chair, dragging it a little closer to the flames before she ate. She used her fork and knife to eat quickly, but she still managed it with elegance. It was clear she was starving. She used the last bit of her lamb sweetbread to wipe up the juices from the roast beef. Once finished, she put a hand over her stomach.

She could only smile and say, "The kids have their own destiny and happiness to grab hold of; there is no need to be so controlling." Stella lowered her gaze and was used to the subtle ridicule from Dahlia. As both of them were chatting, Mrs. White arrived late while being escorted by the other madams. Mrs. White was Marshall's aunt, Irene, and the organizer of this private jewelry exhibition. Irene wore a white gown, and her whole body was bejeweled. No one knew whether it was due to her having a younger husband. Hence, she looked much more youthful than the other madams of the same age.

"Tell me where you are. I'll be right there!" Jocelyn laughed lightly at Skyler's seriousness, "I'm fine, really! Don't worry!" "Just tell me the address!" Jocelyn breathed a sigh and gave Skyler the address. 'Skyler is so bossy!' But she liked it. Skyler said in a low voice, "Wait for me! I'll be right over!" After Jocelyn hung up the phone, Georgina gave an awkward smile, "Is Mr. Moore coming over?" Georgina knew that Skyler was the CEO of Prosperity Jewelry and the mysterious boss of Jubilee Club.