The Cooking House

By Z.N. Singer

The food is perfect, but nobody cooks it. It knows what you want, but nobody told it. It knows how many guests and who they are – even when you don't. Who is right and who is wrong, who is trustworthy and who is not, it always knows all of these things. Nobody knows how. Cook, mother, matchmaker and deal broker - The Cooking House has been many things, and this is its tale.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Z.N. Singer
• Release date: Dec 15, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466097575

Book preview

*******

The Cooking House

******

by Z.N. Singer

Copyright 2011 Z.N. Singer

Smashwords Edition

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person,please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

********

Bernard lived in a good house. But you wouldn't have known it to talk to him.

It was very homey, warm and inviting. It was large but never felt empty. It had nice land around it. In fact, most people would have happily decided it was perfect, or at least close enough.

Bernard was an inventor, or so he fancied himself. He believed it could be improved.

Actually, what he believed was that houses could be improved in general. It was the year 1889, in England, and the bounds of what was and was not possible were being stretched daily: society was turning itself inside out about the various wondrous innovations that were being brought into the world. It was a time of exciting possibilities, and Bernard – with the help of a small private income – had his notions about how to bring this to the home.

The problem with homes, the eternally single man had decided, was that the people living in them had to do all the work.

Cleaning, cooking, and all the rest, what good was a home that didn't do it for you – he asked of the world in general and his home in particular – instead of relying on those females who didn't even understand his life's passions? None, he imagined the humble response to be. Yes, that's right. You're useless now, like all the rest. But it isn't your fault. It's mine. I haven't finished my invention yet. Then you will be perfect.

His automated home, being a product of the late nineteenth century, involved a great deal of cogs and wheels. He'd experimented with steam and the like but found that trying to run such a thing in a home made for an atmosphere that distinctly lacked peace and relaxation. So, clockwork it was, and a complicated mess it was turning out to be. And of course winding the mass of contraptions was still quite a chore: he supposed a certain amount of regulated effort to maintain it was acceptable, as nothing was going to make the