When Grünhilde arrived and heard the situation summarised, somewhat breathlessly and with several gerbils talking at once, she paused, adjusted her spectacles, and said: “Glenda is staff, yes?”
A number of gerbils nodded. Grünhilde then looked at Gillian, still twirling the key. “Then we do not lock staff in rooms.”
The key was retrieved immediately. Glenda’s door was opened, and Grünhilde spoke to her directly, not loudly, not theatrically, just in the calm, immovable tone she uses when restoring structure.
The essentials were established:
- Glenda had agreed the previous evening to speak to GerbiLine.
- This morning she had changed her mind.
- The kitchen had reacted… creatively.
Grünhilde’s solution was simple and extremely Germanic:
- No confinement.
- No shouting through doors.
- GerbiLine may still send someone if Glenda agrees to speak with them.
- Breakfast service resumes immediately.
Glenda, now out of the room and somewhat disarmed by the lack of drama, was directed to sit with a mug of tea while matters settled. Gillian was reassigned to bread slicing, which removed both her audience and her strategic position behind the bar.
Meanwhile the kitchen was reorganised with brisk efficiency:
- the hot-chocolate bowser reappeared
- the kettle resumed its rightful duties
- gossip levels dropped to manageable murmurs
Grünhilde wrote one additional line in her ORDNUNG notebook:
“Staff disputes are not a breakfast activity.”
By the time Brains and Colin arrived ready to administer their “good talking to,” the Bluestocking was already running again, with mugs aligned, toast circulating, and the gerbils behaving like creatures who had just discovered that continental management has standards.