by Leah Fleming
We parted company at the check-out, and that was that until the next morning, when the front door bell rang. The woman from the shop was standing on my doorstep, large as life, holding a beautiful sponge cake. And there I was: mop in hand, with Velcro rollers stuck in my hair.
‘I wondered if it was you!’ she exclaimed. ‘I’m sorry it has taken me so long to call in. Epiphany Birkett, from across the green.’ She walked right into the hallway, avoiding the bucket and the jumping dog.
‘Do come in, please. I’m Charlotte Foley but everyone calls me Charley. Can I offer you a coffee?’ I asked, as I led the way to the kitchen.
‘That would be lovely, thanks. And everyone calls me Fanny behind my back. I gather the Christmas bake-off is causing you some concern?’
‘It’s not that I’m not willing, but I’ve never baked big cakes before. Rice Krispy bakes and casseroles I can do, but I haven’t the time or inclination to tackle anything more complicated.’ There was an edge to my voice that I couldn’t hide. ‘I didn’t expect to be corralled into this bake-off thing and it’s not my forte. Sorry to let you all down, but I’ll give you a donation instead.’
‘What is it about baking you can’t do?’ Fanny was looking at me with interest and concern.
‘It the whole flipping business; all the Christmas must-do mullarkey. Doing cards is bad enough.’ To my horror, tears began again as I tried to pour the coffee with trembling hands.
‘Let me do that.’ Fanny took over. ‘You’ve moved here, which is stressful enough, and done an excellent makeover of Elsie’s farmhouse – another stress – and along comes the annual Christmas preparations. I remember when my children were young I used to dread it. Making the perfect Christmas is not achievable. It’s a rotten myth. But there’s something else troubling you, isn’t there?’
I looked up through my tears. ‘It should have been a wonderful time. We were looking forward to a new life. Everything was perfect until three months ago, when the scan showed no life, nothing. He should have been our Christmas baby born in the village. I still can’t believe it. We were going to call him Noel. I’m sorry, I . . .’
‘Why should you apologise for losing a precious child? It tears the guts out of you to lose a little one, especially in that way.’
‘You too?’ I asked, sensing her meaning. I watched as she swallowed back the tears.
‘Mary was born “asleep”, as they say now. Perfect in every way. She would have been our only girl. I have sons, but you never forget the loss, never, ever . . . We all grieve in our own way, though, and I see baking, which was such a comfort to me, is not for you. I do understand.’
‘If only I felt I could do it and not make a fool of myself,’ I said. ‘We have to have a Christmas cake.’
‘You just follow the instructions, step by step. Take the time to soak your fruit, and use the best you can afford. I have a recipe that is tried and tested and you are welcome to use it, my dear. It has never failed.’
‘That’s very kind, but that’s your secret recipe,’ I blurted out.
She laughed. ‘Ah ha, the jungle drums have been beating?’
‘Epiphany’s Christmas cake is a great legend. The holy grail of Christmas baking, or so I am told.’ I found I was smiling.
‘And the secret ingredient is some mysterious elixir of spices, a hocus-pocus spell performed with smells and bells. Is that what they think?’ Fanny burst out laughing. ‘If only they knew.’
I held my breath, waiting for this unexpected and welcome revelation, but Fanny just sipped her coffee slowly, smiling. Her dark eyes flashed with mischief. ‘Shall I tell you what my most magical ingredient is: the one passed down from generation to generation? It is such a simple one, Charlotte. It’s just love. If you give something or someone time and love, you’ll be surprised at the result. We have an old Yorkshire saying to go with it: “A cake without cheese is like a kiss without a squeeze”. So put on your favourite music, gather everything together, measure out carefully and cook it all slowly. Remember, with time and love, nothing is impossible.’
First published in Great Britain by Coronet, an imprint of Hodder & Stoughton, 1995
This paperback first published by Simon & Schuster UK Ltd, 2016
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Copyright © Leah Fleming, 1995
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® and © 1997 Simon & Schuster, Inc. All rights reserved.
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Paperback ISBN: 978-1-4711-5912-1
eBook ISBN: 978-1-4711-5914-5
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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