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Jo was busy in the kitchen at Freudesheim. It was her turn to cook and she had decided to make a shepherd’s pie. Whilst she waited for the potatoes to cook, she quickly chopped the onions, carrots and mushrooms. When the potatoes were ready, she drained and mashed them, ready for the topping. She went to the fridge and picked up the plate of meat Jack had put in there when he had returned from the Sanatorium that morning.

She diced the meat up and dropped it into the frying pan, adding the other chopped ingredients once it was brown. When they were done, she tipped them into an ovenproof dish. She went to the pantry and picked a bottle of red wine out. Pouring herself a glass, she then tipped some into the frying pan and made the gravy. This was quickly added to the dish and she drained the glass she had left on the side. She refilled her glass and spread the mashed potato over the meat, vegetables and gravy, grating a large quantity of cheese over the top. The dish was then placed into the oven to keep warm until Jack appeared.

“May as well have another one,” Jo said to herself as she drained her second glass of wine. She tipped the remnants of the bottle into her glass and went into the Salon to wait for Jack.

“Hello, Jo.” Jack finally came into the room, having slept for the best part of the day. He had been busy working the night shift at the Sanatorium and had had a few serious cases to attend to there. “What’s for dinner?”

“I’ve made a shepherd’s pie. It’s all ready, if you’re hungry?”

“Sounds tasty. I’m famished.” Jo stood up and led the way into the kitchen.

“You get the wine and I’ll dish up.” Jack agreed easily, and they were both soon sitting at the table, a glass of wine each and a plate full of food.

Tucking in, they ate in silence for a while, both enjoying the chance to have a short amount of time alone together. Their plates were soon empty.

“Jo? What meat did you put in that?”

“Lamb.”

“Are you sure? It tasted a little bit more like rabbit to me.”

“I thought it was lamb on the plate in the fridge.”

“The plate I put in there this morning?”

“Yes. Is something wrong, Jack?” Jo was looking worried as she poured herself a fourth glass of wine and drained it, quickly.

“It wasn’t lamb on the plate, Jo. It was rabbit. It had only been given a post-mortem this morning.”

“What happened to it?”

“It died from a case of plotitis.”

“Plotitis? What’s that?”

“It’s a serious illness which affects a handful of rabbits around the world. If they aren’t isolated, they can pass their illness onto humans.”

“Is it still infectious after the rabbit has died?”

Jack nodded. Jo just looked at him, before smiling.

“It’s a good job I’m a writer, then. I should get more inspiration for my next book.”




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