by Daisy Tate
If it suits the powers that be, I hereby request ONE WEEK immediately, TWO WEEKS in October (dates to be submitted when I figure out when the school holidays are) and a list of single dates (please see attached document) that will take us up until the Christmas Holidays which I would also like to take off. And the Chinese New Year. All of it.
There.
Is that acceptable?
Regards etc etc
Ms DOCTOR Emily Cheung, Sultan Orthopaedic Surgeon
Charlotte Bunce Isabella Yeats
Hawkesbury Vicarage
Vicarage Mews
Hawkesbury Square
Bristol BS10
Dear Headmaster McClintock,
I am in shock. I had no idea there was such a thing as a surfing scholarship at Badminton. Obviously I am prejudiced, but I agree, Luna is very talented and very, very clever.
Would you mind if I asked how you received the videos of Luna surfing? (Ha ha, child protection laws and all that).
The offer of a day scholarship is very kind, as is the offer of a bursary for occasional boarding. As we have only just moved to Bristol, I do feel a bit bad accepting the offer, so if there is another (genuinely) local student who is equally as deserving I understand.
I am guessing from the subtext of your kind letter you understand that Luna and I may have a complicated year ahead. Given the circumstances, we would be very grateful to accept your offer. Is there any chance you teach Danish?
Thanks again and I guess we need to figure out about uniforms. Do you know Charlotte Bunce? Would it be all right if I cc’d her in on things once we hit the email variety of communication? She’s a bit more organized than I am on that front.
All the best and many thanks,
Izzy
TO: Lady Venetia of Sittingstone
FROM: Freya Burns-West
RE: Sittingstone Glampsite Expansion
Dear Lady Venetia
(Is that right? I wasn’t entirely sure how to address you in print. Scots, eh? Rebellious to the end!)
Of course I remember you, and how very kind of Charlotte to recommend me to you regarding the soft furnishings for your new venture.
The eco-friendly cabins sound delightful. I’m sure Charlotte has conveyed my feelings to you about the hunt, so if you’re quite convinced your son is happy for a tree-hugging, animal rights-er to make some gorgeous woodland creature themed soft furnishings for you, I’d be delighted. I would be able to offer a discounted rate for bespoke cushions for each of the cabins. I am toying with the idea of swish ottomans with rare-breed cattle hides and sheep fleeces. Perhaps a Highland chaise longue? Would you be interested in seeing some mock-ups? I think you will find they fit in with the ‘rustic luxury’ you are aiming for.
Please find attached a variety of cushion designs to choose from. We will, of course, include miniatures of the Sittingstone crest and any other specific items you feel would lend that personalized touch you were hoping for. And yes. You are absolutely right. Tweaking the crest to draw the eye away from the sword plunging into the deer’s heart might be for the best. I will sketch out some ideas for your approval.
With kind regards,
Freya Burns-West
TO: [email protected]
FROM: Charlotte Bunce
RE: Decree Absolute
Dear Hazel,
Congratulations to you as well! Named Partner. That is something. And well deserved if your work on my settlement is anything to go by (and I can confirm that it is). The decree absolute arrived this morning. I can confirm that it was, indeed, a wonderful bit of post to receive (though I shall probably not frame it as Emily suggested). How freeing to know this chapter is now well and truly closed.
Thank you so much for agreeing to mentor Poppy one day when she is old enough to have a summer internship. I’m sure she’ll be a help to you and, of course, learn a great deal.
All the very best and many thanks for your hard work. I simply could not have done this without you.
Yours sincerely,
Charlotte Bunce
Chapter 7
‘CAKE!’
Izzy held her hair back so she could tip her head forward and inhale Charlotte’s freshly baked creation. ‘Mmmmmm … lemon drizzle. Charlotte. You are an absolute wonder.’
‘Isn’t she just?’ Rocco carried the teapot across to the table looking just a little bit smug.
Izzy elbowed her in the ribs and murmured, ‘Looks like someone got a little action last night.’
Charlotte couldn’t hide her grin.
Izzy hip-bumped her. ‘You go girl. If anyone deserves a big ol’ farmer lover, I’m pretty sure it’s you.’
Imagine that. Charlotte Bunce had a lover.
They’d agreed to take things slowly, of course, and with Rocco in Scotland there was hardly the possibility of rushing into anything, but … my goodness last night had been delightful.
Freya slid a pile of mismatched plates onto the table. The china teacups that went with them would most likely be going back up the road with Rocco. He said he couldn’t keep enough of them in stock. Every farm shop in Fife wanted some of their limited edition butter cups. He’d even had a couple of calls from Edinburgh.
Emily lifted up the teapot. ‘Shall I be mother?’
They all laughed. Even Emily. An Emily who could take the mickey out of herself was something Charlotte had thought she’d never see.
Or an Emily who visited so regularly. Down every weekend. Longer when she could. She was also, Charlotte suspected, the secret source behind Luna’s scholarship. There wasn’t a school event you could keep her from.
Charlotte went to the utensil drawer for the cake slice but, when she’d turned around, Freya had already handed out forks and they were all digging in. Just like the old days.
‘Lotts.’ Izzy was in raptures. ‘Did you put in extra drizzle?’
Yes. She had.
‘Not on this end she didn’t,’ Freya pointed her fork at a corner of the cake Charlotte had directed her to earlier. ‘Mmm. Springy. It’s a perfect bake, Charlotte. You really should copyright your recipe. Can you even do that?’
‘You can do anything if you’re Charlotte,’ Izzy said, not bothering to look up as she teased her fork into the gooiest part of the cake.
‘They’ve certainly got you pegged,’ Rocco said in that low, sotto-voce voice of his as his fingers brushed against hers.
As much as she loved her children, it was the perfect weekend for their father to make good on a visit. Apparently he was back in his old room at his parents’ house as he and Xanthe were on a break.
‘Rocco,’ Emily pointed her finger at him while she finished swallowing a forkful of cake. ‘You have no idea how lucky you are.’
‘Oh, I’m beginning to get a pretty good idea.’ The way he said it made Charlotte’s tummy do fizzy things.
‘Well, if you don’t, we’re going to learn you up fast, laddie!’ Freya gave them both a deeply protective smile. If ever Charlotte had thought she might have a sister from another mother somewhere out there, that smile was all the proof she needed.
Through mouthfuls of cake, they quizzed Rocco about the farm, Lachlan, and the shop.
Great, good and couldn’t be better. The wink he gave Charlotte on that last bit made her blush straight up to her roots.
After they’d eaten their fill, Emily leant back in her chair. ‘Oof,’ she glanced at her watch. ‘It’s getting harder and harder to leave each weekend.’
‘So, don’t,’ Freya said.
‘Uhhh …’ Emily made her derrrr face. ‘I have a job, aging parents, a girl—’ She stopped herself.
‘Why, Ms Emily Cheung. Were you going to say you had a girlfriend?’ Izzy looked like the Cheshire Cat.
‘Maybe I was. Maybe I wasn’t.’ Emily pinched Izzy’s arm.
‘Owww! I have cancer, don’t do that!’ They play-fought for a minute and then stopped when Izzy’s elbow cracked against the table and she act
ually did hurt herself.
She rubbed at it while Emily fussed and Freya talked over them about the healing power of arnica.
Charlotte felt like she was in the world’s best time machine. One with a future.
‘I mean it, Emms,’ Izzy said once they’d determined her elbow was fine. ‘You should stay.’
‘What? Here? What would I do here?’
Now it was Izzy’s turn to make her derrrr face. ‘Work at one of the hospitals. Work at the University Hospital. That would be hilarious. Get back to the old stomping ground. Show ’em what the old Cheung-meister has got up to in London Town. Can I hear a hells to the yeah?’ She lifted her hands up to raise the roof.
Emily made a show of rolling her eyes, but … yes … they could all see the possibility of a relocation grow.
Izzy clapped her hands again. ‘Emily’s moving to Bristol!!’
‘Am not.’ Emily was grinning.
‘Are too.’ So was Izzy.
Charlotte opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of Prosecco. ‘I know it’s a bit early in the afternoon, but … would it be too early to do a toast to all of us being back in the same place?’
Emily didn’t say no, which they all took as a yes.
Rocco did the honours with the cork, but stepped back as Charlotte, Emily, Izzy and Freya all lifted their glasses and chimed, ‘To Bristol!’
Yes, thought Charlotte, as she drank her fizz. To Bristol, where it all began.
‘To us!’ Izzy lifted her glass again.
They all cheered and chimed, ‘To us!’
To us, thought Charlotte, and to whatever the future may have in store.
[ENDS]
Acknowledgements
If this was a pop-up book, at this juncture a very long scroll would unfurl with a squillion names on it going back to primary school. Earlier. Birth. Thank you mum and dad for having me. And thank you for bringing us camping. A lot. What a fecund pool of material to draw from. This book has been such a great joy to write for many reasons, not least of which because it rekindled a fabulous friendship with the glorious Jackie N. Thank you for all of your honest insight. Lady W – muchos gracias for the fashion advice. You are, and shall forever be, my Coco. Netts – you are, as ever, a wonder. You are made of kindness and all of the other lovely things. Beth – you read the earliest, most painful drafts of this and still had nice things to say, so thank you. Darcy – again, thank you for your honesty and insight. You iz most helpful. JP and Mich - your friendship, that chicken soup and those pickles were a godsend. Never before has shampoo been more gratefully received. Natasha, bless you for the Zencils. They made all the difference. James – thank you for the insight into the amorous tiers of lawful luvvin’. Most interesting. Christine and Pam - you’re tremendous cheerleaders. Mwah. Sue and Stu! You made real-life glamping extra fun. Sarah L – thank you for lunch and illuminating me on just what it takes to pack a large family up for a weekend under canvas. Exhausting. To my agent, Jo Bell who is not only marvellous at reading small print, but who is tremendously talented at reminding me about which small stuff to sweat and which big stuff to get on with and achieve. A heartfelt thanks to you. To the team at Harper Collins for making this twinkle of an idea a reality, especially that transcendentally superpowered Kate Bradley, my amazing faith-filled, patient, inspirational and acutely insightful editor. Thank you for believing in me. Great love to Grissom and Jorja who began this journey with me and to Skye who picked up their batons. And, of course, to my sweet beloved husband. Without you … well … that’s not really worth thinking about is it? Bring on the marshmallows!
Charlotte’s Lemon Drizzle Cake (for sharing with friends … no plates required, annotations by Freya!)
Cake!
175g unsalted butter (organic if poss – remember Rocco) – if you only have salted … don’t add the salt later on.
175g caster sugar (FairTrade if poss – looks a lovely golden colour)
3 large eggs (free range if poss)
1 tsp baking powder
Zest of two (to three, depending upon how tangy you like it) unwaxed lemons
175g self-raising flour
Pinch of salt (squish it well if you’re using sea-salt flakes)
2–3 tablespoons of milk if it’s too thick (from your local dairy)
(NB: If you want to do a traybake, double everything except the cooking time!)
The Drizzle
100g soft golden sugar or caster sugar – your call (I do it half and half)
Juice of 2–3 lemons, depending on how gooey you want it to be and how juicy they are. (Give these a roll around with your hand to release all of that juice.)
*Go mad and use 150g sugar and 3–4 lemons if you like it crazy gooey.
How to make cake:
Heat oven to 180°C fan 160°C/gas mark 4
Beat together butter, sugar and HALF of the lemon zest until beautifully pale and creamy (with dreamy flecks of yellow zest)
Add eggs one at a time ensuring they are fully mixed through
Sift in the self-raising flour, baking powder and salt. Give mixture a few good whizzes with the mixer or your spoon to ensure flour is fully incorporated (but not overwhipped)
Line a loaf tin (8 x 21cm) or whatever you have because it’s the cake that matters, not the shape, right? Pour in mixture and level the top (but it doesn’t have to be perfect).
Bake for 40–50 minutes (you know your oven). Thin skewer or knife should come out clean at the end and cake should have a little bounce when you touch it (because you know you want to, right?)
While the cake is cooling, mix that lemon juice, remaining lemon zest and caster or golden sugar to make the drizzle. While the cake is still warm (this is critical!), poke holes all over the top of the warm cake (knife, chopstick, skewer, be careful if you’re using your finger because … hot cake!) Pour drizzle over and wait for cake to absorb before pouring on more (remember – one end extra-gooey for Izzy, one end with only a bit for Freya).
Note: If you’re short on lemons and rich in friends – use whatever citrus you have to hand. Orange is fab. Lime is a delight. I’ve never tried pineapple, but there’s always room to explore.
Enjoy with friends.
Haven’t read how it all started? Find out in the other glamptabulous instalments available to buy now!
About the Author
Daisy Tate loves telling stories. Telling them in books is even better. When not writing, she raises stripey, Scottish cows, performs in Amateur Dramatics, pretends her life is a musical and bakes cakes that will never win her a place on a television baking show. She was born in the USA but has never met Bruce Springsteen. She now calls East Sussex home.
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