by Katie Ginger
‘Is it?’
Esme felt embarrassed she didn’t know that. For the last few years, she and Leo had only come down on Christmas Eve and gone straight to her mum and dad’s house. They’d be there for Christmas Day then away on Boxing Day morning to see Leo’s family. She hadn’t actually been to her sister’s house for ages. As shame bit her throat, Esme realised that she’d been caught up in her London life. And with only fleeting visits home to be told how clever she was by her old school friends, and so absorbed in her life with Leo, she’d become distant from her actual family and especially her sister. She was pleased the star was now there for Daniel, just as it should be.
‘It wasn’t exactly star-shaped in the first place,’ said Alice. ‘It’s pretty much falling apart now.’
‘Then let’s make another one, hey?’ Esme said, gently holding Daniel’s shoulder. He turned to her and gave a great toothy grin. ‘And you can make one for me.’
Once the dough was made and rolled out, Esme handed Daniel the template she’d made as she couldn’t find cutters big enough. He held it in place and Alice cut round it to make the topper for his tree but when it came to doing another he said, ‘Aunty Ezzy, can I make you an angel, please?’
Esme felt a stinging in her eyes. She’d missed out on so many special moments with her family, missed so many moments of Daniel growing up. To be here now, making a special memory with him, just as her grandma had with her, meant more to Esme than she ever imagined it could. ‘Of course you can, little man. Let’s make a big one, shall we? I can show our lovely viewers how to make a template.’ Esme found the cardboard she’d used to make the star template and asked Alice to draw a much bigger outline they could cut out and use. Remembering she was actually filming, Esme added, ‘Now you just need to bake them and when they’re cooled, we can paint them.’
‘Yay!’ shouted Daniel again, and Esme went to turn off the camera.
‘I’ll turn it on again when we’re ready to paint, then I’ll edit it all together later.’
‘Okay,’ Alice replied. She was looking a little flushed now and Esme wasn’t sure if it was the heat from the oven or her nerves. ‘Can Daniel play outside?’
‘Of course. There’s loads of space. If he plays out front we can watch him from the living room. Fancy a hot choccy?’
Alice nodded and got Daniel wrapped up in his hat, scarf and gloves, which he only agreed to wear after Esme promised him a biscuit and extra whipped cream on his hot chocolate. As Esme pottered about making the drinks, Alice said, ‘So how are you, sis, really?’
Esme concentrated on whisking the milk. ‘To be honest, I don’t really know how I am. Sometimes I’m absolutely fine. At other times I really miss Leo. My Leo. The one I knew before we moved in together.’ She took a deep breath. ‘And I miss being in London and being near my friends.’ Alice nodded. ‘But you know what?’
‘What?’
‘When you were saying about Grandma just now, I realised how much I’ve missed seeing you and Daniel, and everyone else, all the time. I’ve missed out on so much with that little guy already. When I think of all the nativity plays I’ve missed, all the special days out – I loved seeing him the other afternoon.’
‘When you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all,’ said Alice, smiling. But Esme knew how much she loved them.
‘All those times we could have been making special memories baking together and I was just too busy.’ Esme poured the hot chocolates and brought them over to the coffee table, plonking down next to Alice.
‘We never minded. We’re all so proud of you. And you were a long way away. We understood you couldn’t pop down every weekend.’
‘Well, I’m proud of you,’ Esme said in return. ‘You’re raising a fabulous little human there.’ She pointed out of the window to where Daniel was using a stick to beat up a bush. ‘A part of me really wants to stay here. But I always thought once I got back on my feet, I’d go back to London.’ She shrugged and let out a big sigh. ‘Oh, I don’t know.’
‘We love having you here,’ said Alice, giving Esme’s hand a squeeze. ‘But we’ll be there for you whatever you decide. If you wanted to go back to London, we’d just have to make sure we get more family time. Especially without Lousy Leo.’
Esme gawped. ‘Don’t tell me you didn’t like him either?’
Alice scrunched up her nose. ‘Not especially. But he was your choice so we supported you.’ Esme tutted. If she’d known her family’s opinion before, would things have been different? Would they have ended quicker and with less heartbreak? She didn’t know, but her family’s point of view was something to think about. Had they seen the real him while she was looking through rose-tinted glasses? ‘So, Joe Holloway’s been making sure you’re all settled in then?’
Esme eyed her. ‘He’s just called in a few times, that’s all. There’s nothing going on. He has a girlfriend.’
‘Does he?’ Alice sounded surprised. ‘I thought he was all about the one-night stands.’
Esme remembered the first woman in the pub and then the brunette. Who knew what he was up to? ‘He said he had quite a bad break-up. Do you know anything about that?’
Alice nodded. ‘Only the local gossip. I remember when he came back he was a bit of a mess. I don’t know what happened after that. Once, his mum talked to our mum and said he was in a really bad way, hiding in his flat like a teenager. She said he was really sad.’
‘That doesn’t sound like sad to me, that sounds like depressed.’ Maybe he had been. She remembered him saying about hiding in his dressing gown for a year. At the time she’d thought he was joking but when she thought over the way he’d talked about it, about the sadness in his eyes, and the way he’d closed down when she got too close, there was definitely something more going on. Was that why he’d clicked with her? A kindred spirit? Was it only the fact that she was going through something similar that made him seek out her friendship? She didn’t know, but even though the thought made her heart unusually heavy, she’d help him if she could.
The timer pinged and Esme went to retrieve the salt dough decorations from the oven. They were perfect. Suddenly, Daniel burst through the front door that they’d left slightly open for him.
‘It’s snowing, it’s snowing!’
Esme and Alice ran to the doorway and peered out. A few tiny flakes were beginning to fall, drifting lazily on the air. Grabbing coats and boots they ran outside too, jumping about and dancing around. Esme smiled, feeling like a kid again. There wasn’t enough snow for a snowman yet, but they still had fun spinning around with their mouths open, trying to catch the flakes on their tongues. When it got a little heavier they headed inside for warm drinks and homemade chocolate biscuits.
Once the salt dough decorations had cooled, Esme switched the camera on for the painting session. She didn’t remember talking to the camera much during this bit as she was too busy laughing. Laughing with Daniel as he painted her angel strange colours, giving it a green face and decorating the wings with Spiderman webs. Somehow paint ended up everywhere, even on the camera lens. As she wiped it off, saying goodbye to her viewers, and thanking her sister and nephew for joining her, her cheeks hurt from the pure joy of it all. A feeling of warmth consumed her. A feeling that, this time, had nothing to do with the roaring log fire in the living room.
Chapter 24
Sandchester
The night of the next live video arrived far quicker than Esme had hoped for. Even though the video with Daniel had gone down really well, winning over the anti-swearing lady, Esme couldn’t help noticing the horrible sense of pressure tensing her body.
Despite all her planning, she was even more nervous than the first time, and poured herself a glass of wine to steady her nerves. As she prepared all the ingredients for a special Christmas recipe, she took a sip and gazed around. Since Joe had bought her the tree, the cottage had smelt of pine and she’d come down every morning smiling as soon as she saw it. The decorations brought a life to the cottage she hadn’t i
magined it could have when she first moved in. It was brighter, more comforting and homely. And now her crazy salt dough angel sat on top, tied on with ribbon.
The thin covering of snow had disappeared just as quickly as it had come, but it had been fun while it lasted. As it was only four days to Christmas, she’d decided to make some old-fashioned Christmas staples of sausage rolls and cheese scones, but with a twist. The sausage rolls would have a spicy chilli ketchup added under the pastry and the cheese scones would be made with a fantastic cheddar that had garlic and herbs added in.
Esme sipped some more wine as she chopped the onion to add to the sausage meat and grated the cheese for the scones. Before long, her glass was empty. She checked the time; it was still only eight-fifteen. Forty-five minutes till she went live. Esme topped up her glass once more and checked the camera was in the right place. When she viewed the screen, the kitchen sparkled with the fairy lights. She had even bought some sweet red tea-light holders, dotting them over the countertop, and the flame inside flickered gently. Esme had found three large glass jars in the pantry cupboard and filled them with pine cones collected on her walks. They sat by the butler’s sink, finishing it off. It looked as good as any Christmas cookery show, better even, as it was lived in, not a sterile set designed by boring men in an office.
While she weighed out the flour and butter she needed for the scones, the negative comments posted on her blog, and the blacklisting from the industry she loved, jostled in her brain. She tried to ignore it all but before long, a nausea was rising in her stomach and she was chewing the inside of her cheek. What if this one went wrong as well? What would she do then? People would hate her. At some point she’d have to give up and find a new career. She grabbed the wine from the fridge and topped up her glass. It somehow felt worse to be hated by someone you didn’t know. At least if they got to know you first and didn’t like you after that, you’d had a chance to put your best foot forward. Being rude online was just mean. She was grateful for Penny85, though, who always seemed to be fighting her corner, commenting almost daily. Esme pictured a kind old lady similar to her grandma. Wherever Penny85 was, she was sure she was a nice woman.
When the clock showed five minutes to nine, Esme took a final swig of wine and switched on the camera to begin. She focused on her notes but the writing seemed more squiggly than normal; she’d have to type it up next time. She took a deep breath and began.
‘Hi again, everyone. Thanks for joining me tonight. If you haven’t had a chance to watch the salt dough video, then please check that one out. It’s great if you have little ones to keep occupied. Also, you might not have noticed but Grandma’s Kitchen has been Christmasified! Do you like my fairy lights? About time, isn’t it?’ Esme gestured around her. ‘Tonight we’re going to make two fantastic snacks that you have to have at Christmas. Well, in my family you do. We’re going to make sausage rolls and cheese scones. But never fear, these aren’t normal, boring sausage rolls or bland, forgettable cheese scones. We’re making spicy ketchup sausage rolls and ramped up cheesy cheese scones.’
Esme’s mouth felt dry. She looked for a glass of water but hadn’t got herself one before filming. Another rookie error. She saw her wine and took a sip. ‘So, we’ll begin with the sausage rolls, but these ones have a little surprise in them — a nice kick of chilli ketchup.’
A voice in her head said, ‘You’re going to screw this up,’ and she swallowed hard.
‘To begin, we need to flavour our sausage meat. You can use good sausage meat from a butcher if you can get it, but if you can’t, just use good-quality sausages from the supermarket and take the meat out of the skins …’ As she went on to talk about herbs, her brain said, ‘Don’t forget anything, you idiot.’ She cleaned her hands and took another swig of wine.
‘So now, for the chilli ketchup. You can make this yourself if you like and I’ve put a recipe on my blog for those who want to. But if you haven’t made some already, you can make a cheat’s version now using normal ketchup.’ She added a big squeeze to a bowl. ‘Now some paprika, cayenne, onion powder and garlic powder.’ She mixed in each of the spices. ‘You can even add some Worcestershire sauce if you like, or hot sauce. It really depends on your taste buds. Just try it and see what you prefer.’ What the hell do you think you’re doing? No one’s going to watch this rubbish! Esme gave herself a mental shake. ‘This recipe came about completely by accident one year. I was making normal sausage rolls with a ketchup-type dip, so I had a bowl of ketchup out on the side that I was going to doctor up afterwards, then I tripped over my shoelace and knocked it over onto the pastry. I decided to carry on and it kind of went from there. I love making these because they’re my dad’s favourite Christmas snack now.’
She took the puff pastry out of the fridge and decided to take out the wine as well, as the doubts were beginning to fade, she topped up her glass. ‘Now, roll the pastry out into a sheet. You can buy ready-made puff pastry, which is a great cheat. Making proper puff pastry takes like, a gazillion years, and to be honest, you’d never know the difference. Paint on a nice thick layer of chilli ketchup, leaving a one-inch margin on all sides. Now, roll out the sausage meat into a long, well … sausage, and place it about an inch from the top. Egg-wash around the side and fold over the pastry.’
She assembled the sausage roll, which took an inordinate amount of concentration. ‘Now, cut it into about nine pieces, egg-wash the top and let’s get it in the oven. ‘She picked up the tray to move it to the oven and knocked over a knife. ‘Oops.’ She picked it up and placed it on the worktop, silently congratulating herself for not swearing, and slid the tray in the oven. Her head popped up from behind the counter.
‘Boo!’ she shouted, then giggled to herself. ‘Now onto the cheese scones.’
Esme sautéed some onion, ‘Just until it’s soft and translucent, you don’t want it coloured, otherwise it’ll look like flecks of poo in your scone.’ She giggled to herself again. ‘Sorry, just made myself laugh. Now, once that’s cooled we can mix all the ingredients together.’ She put that bowl to one side and grabbed another. ‘While they’re cooling, in this bowl I’ve got some flour, butter and two different cheeses. I’ve got this lovely Cheddar with garlic and herbs in it and a Red Leicester. I love the colour Red Leicester gives to scones as well as the taste. And the garlic cheese is amazing. It’s like the garlic has been slow-roasted, so it’s really sweet. I’ve also included a little parsley and some chives.’
She threw everything into the bowl and mixed it with her fingers. ‘Once it’s formed into a ball, flatten it out to about an inch thick and cut them with a one-inch cutter.’ As she started to cut them out, she wanted to make sure they were cut all the way through so started shouting ‘bang’ every time she pressed down extra hard. ‘Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang.’ Once they were done, she placed them on the baking tray and added those to the oven.
Picking up her wine glass, Esme leaned on the counter, relaxed and happy. Everything had gone well for once. She took a sip.
‘The best advice I can give is to use a timer. Don’t assume that you’ll remember when you put the bits in the oven. I know professional cooks who’ve put something in, then forgotten about it or the phone’s rung and before you know it, poof! The scones are burnt and the house is full of smoke.’ She turned on the timer and placed it on the countertop so the viewers could see it too.
She took another sip of wine. ‘The other thing people forget is the egg wash.’ She saw it on the counter and giggled again. ‘Which I’ve done too.’ She sipped the last of her wine and waved her hand dismissively. ‘Never mind, but, if you can remember, I’d definitely recommend brushing on some egg wash. It gives them a nice golden colour on top. Never fear though, they will be fine without should you forget. Oh, my glass is empty.’ Esme topped it up and leaned on the counter to continue chatting with her viewers.
‘So, how are you lot today? Having a good day? I hope so.’ She brandished her glass around in the air as she spoke.
‘I’m doing okay at the moment. It’s been a rough few weeks though, I can tell you. I won’t go into details, I’d probably get sued if I did, but this is my new job.’ She motioned around her kitchen. ‘Doing this blog — vlog — video thing. It’s quite hard changing direction, especially in your thirties when you’re supposed to have your life all figured out, but my friends keep saying it’ll all be worth it in the end. Have you ever done that? Changed direction? Let me know, especially if you have some good advice. I could use it. I can’t talk about it though, so ssshhhh!’ She signed, zipping up her lips and throwing away the key. ‘My poor heart.’ She pressed a hand to her chest then leant back on the countertop, leaning in conspiratorially. ‘Let me ask you a question, have you guys ever liked a guy but then people keep saying things about them so you don’t know what to do? Do you follow your gut, even though your gut seems quite confused, or do you use your head? Or do you do nothing?’ She shrugged. Thankfully though, this was all going well and she felt relaxed for once. All those people who’d made negative comments could naff off. She was good at this.
‘I know I should make a load of these in advance, so that I can whip them out and be like, “Here’s some I made earlier, aren’t they perfect and golden brown and shiny,” but it’s much more fun to have a chat, isn’t it?’She took her wine glass and checked the timer. The numbers seemed to be upside down. She picked it up and turned it back the right way, but the numbers were still wrong. Her feet felt a little wobbly and all the muscles in her legs were wiggling about of their own accord.
Esme realised with a sudden sinking in her stomach that she was drunk. She took a deep breath and tried to calm down. The timer would sound when it was ready, but that was assuming she’d set it right in the first place. See, I knew you’d screw it up, her brain said. ‘Oh, shut up!’ Esme shouted. Then realising she’d said it out loud, she added, ‘Oh, sorry, there was a bird.’ Shit. She had to stay on top of this, she couldn’t let it all go wrong. People would never watch her again.