‘I can understand Jethro not being happy about it. Ethan should know his place. Although I’d never say so to Mazy – her lad can do no wrong, in her eyes. We should never mix with them above us; it only ends in tears. Think of that flighty bit that turned Master James’s head.’ Nancy picked up the meat cleaver and aimed it at the feet of the turkey she had just plucked and came down hard with it onto the chopping block, before moving on to cutting off the crinkled pink-and-blue wattle. ‘I don’t mind plucking the birds, but I hate cleaning them.’ She went over to the kitchen sink and put her hand down the turkey’s neck to remove the crop, which was filled with the remains of the turkey’s last corn supper. ‘It’s the smell.’ Nancy retched as the odour hit her nostrils.

‘You have never had a strong stomach.’ Ruby turned round quickly and shook her head at Nancy. ‘Thank heavens Christmas is only once a year, and at least I can prepare quite a bit in advance. But I’m sure it was never this chaotic in Miss Charlotte’s time, and she’d have been down here making sure we were alright. Mistress Isabelle just says what she wants and doesn’t think of the consequences – she’s always been like that. Always wanted her own way and never thought how it affected anybody else. Miss Jane is just like her; she’ll have to learn by her mistakes or it’ll be the worse for her.’ Ruby examined her plucked turkey. ‘I’ll have to singe this fine down off. I’m tearing the skin, trying to pluck it off.’ She walked over to the mantelpiece and got a spill from the container above the fire and lit it. Holding the turkey up in one hand, she ran the lit spill over the fluffy down on the turkey’s neck and chest, watching it brown and curl up and disappear, while filling the kitchen with the smell of burnt feathers and acrid smoke. ‘I can’t hold this bird much longer, it’ll have to do.’ Ruby looked at her handiwork and then put the heavy turkey down on the kitchen table. ‘Open the back door and then clean me this one, Nancy. At least we’ve done half of them. It’s coming up to lunchtime, I need to put the cock-a-leekie soup on the stove.’

Nancy opened the back door wide, letting fresh, cold air into the kitchen, before returning to cleaning the turkey. ‘I don’t want any dinner.’ Her stomach churned as she looked at her next victim and thought of the chicken in the soup that she usually enjoyed, but not today.

‘You don’t know what’s good for you, lass. You’ve got to eat,’ grinned Ruby, as Nancy retched again and gave her a look that said everything.