CHAPTER SIX
Next morning, I woke up feeling odd.
I lay there in that not-asleep-but-not-yet-fully-awake stage, aware that something had changed but not quite sure what. Even the sunlight streaming through a gap in the curtains looked different somehow.
Then the events of the day before began sliding into my mind.
Being unceremoniously dismissed from the wedding boutique job and having another dispiriting clash with Loli over her refusal to let me help her, then missing my stop on the bus because I was so worried about her. And then, in contrast, the good part of the day! Finding little Barley and meeting an extraordinary man called Jensen... a man who’d dived into the river to rescue a dog, despite knowing this would scupper his chances of landing the job he wanted.
I sat up, my mind full of questions.
What had happened to Barley?
I pictured his owners, beside themselves with worry after he’d run off and over the moon to be reunited with their pet at the rescue centre. That was the best scenario. But what if it hadn’t turned out like that? What if Barley was a stray who had no home? Would he stay at the rescue centre until some kind pet lover adopted him? (They’d better be kind to him, or they’d have me to answer to!)
And what about Jensen?
Would he get another chance at that job interview? I really hoped so. I would have liked to see him again to find out, but I had no way of contacting him. Why hadn’t I asked for his number? It had all happened in such a rush at the end, his friend turning up to collect Jensen and Barley, and I hadn’t even had a chance to say much of a goodbye. I’d have asked him for his number if things had been different – only so that I could find out what happened with Barley, of course. No other reason. But I hadn’t and I didn’t like the way that was making me feel strangely empty inside...
Pushing this disquieting feeling aside, I threw back the covers and leaped out of bed. A shower would make me feel better... more positive and optimistic. Just because I’d lost my job didn’t mean I was going to take it easy. I’d need to start job hunting again.
And as for Jensen, I was sure to bump into him at some point, doing his shopping on the high street...
*****
Over the following week, two things dominated my thoughts.
I needed another way of earning money, so I was applying to every retail and café job I could find. This was in between my daily visits to the hospital. (I’d often take along pudding for Loli in a Tupperware box, and we’d share it while we chatted.)
The other thing preoccupying me – far more than I could ever have imagined it would – was Jensen.
I couldn’t believe how hard it was to get him off my mind. It seemed that everything on TV... every conversation I had... every song I heard playing in shops or on the radio reminded me of our meeting at the hospital or on the riverbank and everything we’d talked about. Jensen had made a real impression on me, that was for sure. I’d never met a guy like him before, and I was finding it increasingly frustrating that we hadn’t exchanged numbers so I could at least have texted him to thank him for everything he’d done for Barley. All I knew was that he lived in a flat without a garden. But there must be hundreds like that in Sunnybrook! I’d racked my brains, trying to think of a way I could ‘accidentally’ bump into him again, but it seemed hopeless.
I returned to the bench by the river a few times, laughing at myself for being so ridiculous as to think Jensen might actually show up there again. (Needless to say, he didn’t. The only sighting I had was of a woman walking her dog, and a cute water vole, which – as soon as it spotted me – plopped straight back into the river and vanished from sight.)
Having decided that the animal rescue centre was probably the best way to find Jensen (and find out about Barley at the same time), I drove along there, formulating a speech in my mind about finding a dog and wanting to thank the stranger who’d offered to take him to the rescue centre.
As it turned out, Barley was doing well (he hadn’t been chipped and they thought he must be a stray) but they weren’t allowed to give out any personal information about the people who’d brought him in to them. ‘Really sorry, but we have to abide by the rules,’ said the young girl behind the desk. To be fair, she did look very apologetic, but that was that. I did, though, get to see Barley again, which was lovely and made my heart melt when he so obviously recognised me, jumping up excitedly and trying to lick my face.
I drove home, vowing to put an end to this finding-Jensen-madness, and also feeling nervous excitement because I’d told the centre that if Barley wasn’t claimed by anyone, I’d like to think about claiming him for myself. (The woman in charge had taken my details with a smile and said she’d let me know what happened.)
*****
A few days later, having had no luck job-hunting, I was making sticky toffee pudding to take into the hospital later, when I realised I’d run out of double cream.
I took an anxious look out of the window. The forecast was for more storms later – and already, dark, threatening clouds were scudding across the sky. I plucked my raincoat from the hall cupboard. With a bit of luck, if I left now, I’d be back before the rain started.
I made it to the village store and was coming out when fat drops of rain heralding the thunderstorm started to splat onto the paving flags of the high street. After the heatwave of the past few days, I could almost hear them sizzle as they hit the pavement! Hurrying across the road, I realised I wasn’t alone in trying to escape the downpour. Two women behind me were clutching each other and laughing, looking up at the sky, their heels clacking on the pavement as they raced along.
‘Annalise?’ said one of them, catching up with me.
I recognised her immediately. It was Maddy, the bride-to-be from my disastrous last day at the wedding boutique, and she was with her friend Ellie again.
‘Hi, there! Great weather we’re having,’ I joked.
‘Isn’t it just?’ said Ellie. ‘We were hoping to make it back to the café before it really starts, but I think we might be out of luck.’
‘I quite like being out in the rain,’ Maddy said. ‘In fact, I’ve been praying for it. It’s been far too hot for my liking.’
Ellie grimaced. ‘Do you like it this much?’ she asked, as the rain suddenly ramped up a gear and became a steady downpour, like standing under a rainforest shower. ‘This is nothing short of tropical! ’
‘Someone’s turned a tap on over our heads,’ laughed Maddy. She looked up at the sky then started spluttering and coughing as the rain spilled over her face. In the space of a few seconds our hair was already looking like rats’ tails. Reaching the house, I pushed open the gate. ‘Why don’t you come in until it stops?’ I gasped. They nodded gratefully and I ushered them quickly up the path so we could shelter under the little porch outside the front door, while I fumbled in my bag for the key.
‘My shoes were already starting to fill up with water,’ laughed Ellie as they removed their wet footwear in the hall. ‘Ooh, what a lovely house!’ She looked around the traditional hallway and at the staircase we’d painstakingly restored to its polished-oak glory. ‘You’ve kept a lot of the original features,’ she added, pointing at the dado rails and the cornicing above our heads.
I smiled. ‘Loli prefers traditional. And I think I do, too.’
‘Loli?’ enquired Maddy.
‘Oh, my grandmother. It’s her house. I’ve lived here with her ever since... well, for quite a while, anyway.’
‘Is she here? Loli?’ asked Ellie.
So then I explained about her being in hospital awaiting a new kidney.
‘You’re not at work today?’ said Maddy.
Leading them along the hallway, I looked back at them with a grimace. ‘No. I got fired.’
They both stared at me in horror.
‘ What? ’
‘ What on earth for? ’
I shrugged. ‘Not quite sure, really. I don’t think she ever really wanted me there, so when I bumped into a VIP client and tipped a half-full glass of Bucks Fizz down her jacket, it was probably just the excuse my boss needed to fire me.’
‘We saw that! But it wasn’t even your fault,’ said Maddy, indignant on my behalf.
‘No, it wasn’t,’ Ellie agreed. ‘I saw the way she shoved you – quite hard, actually, and that’s how it happened.’
I smiled sheepishly. ‘Well, whatever. I tried my best but things just didn’t work out. And looking back, we’d never have got on – Marguerite and I – so it was probably just as well for both of us that I failed my trial period.’
‘I think you’re far too kind,’ said Maddy. ‘You should take her to a tribunal for being unfairly dismissed. She sounds absolutely awful.’
Ellie nodded. ‘On the other hand, what is it they say? When one door closes...?’
‘Another one opens.’ Maddy sniffed the air as they followed me into the kitchen. ‘And reveals the most amazing smell of baking! What is that?’
I laughed. ‘Oh, it’s my sticky toffee pudding.’ I opened Loli’s old-fashioned pantry, where I’d put the pudding to cool, and brought it out. ‘I made it for Loli. She’s getting fed up with the hospital food and she loves it when I take in pudding and share it with her.’
Maddy grinned. ‘I’m not surprised.’
‘You’re my kind of hospital visitor,’ joked Ellie.
Smiling, I glanced out at the torrent of rain beyond the window. It was really wild out there now. ‘Would you... would you like to try some? I’ve got some double cream to go with it?’
Maddy’s eyes lit up but Ellie looked unsure.
‘It looks mouth-wateringly good, but it’s for your grandmother, isn’t it?’
‘Oh, there’s plenty. Honestly. I’m only taking a couple of portions into the hospital so there’ll be loads left over.’ I grinned. ‘You’ll be aiding my waistline if you help me to eat it.’
‘Well, in that case... yes, please.’ Maddy licked her lips in anticipation. ‘Yum with a capital “Y”. Crikey, that sounded twee. But there’s something about the old-fashioned puddings, isn’t there? They’re just magical.’
Ellie nodded. ‘I’d love some, Annalise. Thank you.’
So I put out spoons and three dishes and we helped ourselves to pudding and cream. We sat at Loli’s scrubbed oak kitchen table and a contented silence replaced the chat for a while as we ate.
It was a good one, I thought to myself, hoping they liked it. It was quite nerve-racking watching other people eating your food, and I was glad I’d used molasses sugar in place of some of the demerara this time. The molasses sugar seemed to add something extra, making the pudding deliciously rich in flavour. I’d got the idea from Millicent’s notebook, and it was definitely an excellent one.
When Mum first found the notebook, she’d talked about trying to track down Millicent’s descendants one day so we could reunite them with her precious hand-written recipes, but we’d never got round to thinking how we could do this.
‘Well, that ,’ said Maddy, pudding her spoon down and sitting back with a contented sigh, ‘is the best pudding I’ve ever tasted.’
‘I’ll second that,’ smiled Ellie, scraping up every last morsel of pudding. ‘Sorry, I’m being very rude here. I’ll be licking the plate next. But that really was delicious.’
‘What are those?’ Maddy pointed at a stack of aluminium pudding bowls sitting on one of the benches.
‘Oh, Loli and I used to make puddings to sell at the farmers’ market. We bought a pack of five hundred because it was cheaper to buy them in bulk and we thought we’d need them because the business was going so well. But then Loli got ill. I tried to keep going but I’ve lost heart recently, what with Loli in hospital, so it’s all gone by the wayside.’
‘What a shame,’ said Ellie, and Maddy nodded.
I smiled wistfully. ‘Loli desperately needs a new kidney, but it’s a waiting game, of course.’
‘Isn’t there anyone in your family who’s willing to donate a kidney?’ asked Maddy.
‘Yes, there is.’ I pursed my lips ruefully. ‘Me. But Loli won’t have it.’
She looked at me in astonishment. ‘Even though it would save her life? That’s weird. If it were me suffering organ failure, I’d have you in being tested before you could say steak and kidney pie.’
‘Maddy!’ gasped Ellie.
‘What?’
I laughed. ‘I actually agree with you, Maddy. I think I’d be the same. But it’s not that simple.’ I explained about Loli donating a kidney to my mum, which sadly hadn’t produced the outcome we’d all longed for.
Ellie frowned. ‘But if she’s donated one of her kidneys in the past, surely that would make her a priority for a transplant of her own?’
I sighed. ‘It does. But the problem is finding a donor who’s a good match for her.’
‘And I bet you would be the best match of all,’ Maddy pointed out.
I nodded. ‘Probably. But what can I do? She’s convinced she could be harming me and my future health if she says yes.’
‘But if you really want to do it for her...?’
‘And I do, but it makes no difference. She can be stubborn as a mule.’
Ellie sighed. ‘So you just have to hope that a good donor match is found soon.’
‘Exactly.’
‘And in the meantime, that awful woman at the wedding boutique has given you your marching orders when the Bucks Fizz spillage wasn’t even your fault!’ said Maddy.
‘I’m feeling really bad about that,’ admitted Ellie. ‘If you hadn’t been so lovely, Annalise, serving us even though you knew Marguerite would be on the warpath...’
I laughed. ‘It certainly wasn’t your fault I got fired. I opened the shop when I shouldn’t have.’
‘Well, anyway, it sounds as if you’ve had a lucky escape, if you ask me,’ said Maddy. ‘And now you have to think about what you’re going to do next.’
Ellie smiled. ‘Making more puddings like that one would be a good start.’
‘I’d love to. But what with job-searching and visiting Loli in hospital, I don’t think I’d have time to commit properly to the business. I’d have to make dozens of puddings every week for the farmers’ market and without Loli there helping, it just wouldn’t be the same.’
‘What kind of puddings sold well?’ asked Ellie.
I smiled. ‘Our golden syrup sponge pudding was always a bestseller. And things like spotted dick and jam roly-poly. And sticky toffee pudding as well, of course.’
‘Spotted dick.’ Maddy shook her head, grinning.
I laughed. ‘I know. I was all for giving it a different name but “currant pudding” seemed a poor substitute, and Loli said renaming it would be disastrous for business. She said one of the reasons people wanted to buy them was because they liked being reminded of the school dinner puddings they used to love.’
Ellie chuckled. ‘That’s true. My mum, bless her, is always going on about school dinner puds being the best ever. Cake with hundreds and thousands sprinkles on top and smothered in custard was always her favourite.’
I nodded eagerly. ‘We did that as well. That was another really popular one.’
‘Have you ever thought about approaching local delicatessens, to see if they would stock your puddings?’ asked Ellie.
I shook my head. ‘The packaging’s so simple and I wouldn’t know where to start making it look professional.’
Ellie shrugged. ‘I’d never have imagined the Little Duck Pond Café could become the success it is. But I took a chance and it paid off.’
Maddy gave me a sly wink. ‘Of course it wouldn’t be nearly as popular if you hadn’t employed the best staff in the world to greet your customers with a smile.’
Ellie chuckled. ‘Well, obviously,’ she agreed. ‘But what I’m saying is you should dream big, Annalise. What have you got to lose?’
I smiled wistfully. ‘That’s what Loli keeps saying.’ I pulled over my laptop, found the competition details she’d shown me and pushed them over for Ellie and Maddy to see. ‘She wants me to enter this, but the very idea of it just seems preposterous.’
‘But why?’ Ellie peered closer to the screen. ‘I need my reading glasses.’
‘Well, all we’ve ever done is make puddings in our kitchen and sold a few at the market. I mean, it’s hardly big business.’
‘Everyone has to start somewhere,’ said Maddy, reading the page over Ellie’s shoulder. ‘I think you should do it. This competition could be the springboard that launches you into the big time.’
I groaned and pulled the laptop back, closed it down and shut it with a snap. ‘No way. I’d be terrified.’
Maddy looked at Ellie. ‘You should start making puddings like that at the café. They’d be really popular.’
Ellie smiled. ‘Nice idea. Or...’ She paused, her brow lowering in thought. ‘Annalise could bring her gorgeous puddings to the café.’
Maddy frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I’m not exactly sure. But knowing how popular the old-fashioned traditional puddings still are, I’m thinking maybe some sort of joint business venture?’
‘An evening of puddings at the café?’ suggested Maddy. ‘Villagers getting together and having a glass of wine or two, and sampling lots of different puddings?’
‘Something like that. Or maybe... what about cookery demonstrations?’ Ellie looked at me, her eyes shining. ‘How would you feel about showing us how these traditional puddings are made, Annalise? Different ones every week? Steamed, baked, trifles, whatever. You could share your knowledge with our regulars. I think they’d love it.’
‘Me? Doing a cookery demonstration?’ I felt nervous just thinking about it. ‘I’m not sure I’d be very good.’
‘Why not?’ said Ellie. ‘We could make a light main course and serve wine, so people would be in a relaxed mood. Then they’d be able to have dessert – a taste of the puddings they’d just watched you make for them. With custard or cream, of course.’ She smiled. ‘I think you’d be great.’
‘I like ice-cream with hot puddings,’ said Maddy. ‘But yes, it could be a nice little earner for both of you. And it would get your fabulous puddings out there, Annalise.’ She grinned sheepishly. ‘Er, that sounded wrong. But you know what I mean.’
We snorted with laughter and Maddy added, ‘No, but it would be great for the café, and you could sell your range of puddings at the end of the evening. After they’ve had a taste, I’m sure they’d all want to take one home. You could design a poster to stick up all over the village and do social media and really ramp up interest for the event. I could help with that if you like.’
Ellie smiled. ‘Thanks, Maddy. You’re always so full of good ideas.’
‘Aw, shucks. I’ll send you my consultancy invoice,’ she joked. Then she grimaced. ‘Having to organise a wedding definitely sharpens up your organisational skills.’
‘Ooh, when’s the Big Day?’ I asked. ‘I forgot to ask when you were in the shop looking for a dress.’
‘December.’ Maddy beamed. ‘I’ve always wanted a Christmassy wedding with snow on the ground.’
‘Fingers crossed,’ smiled Ellie. ‘I just hope you’re not disappointed.’
‘Oh, I won’t be. Haven’t I told you? We’re hiring a snow machine to be on the safe side.’
‘Brilliant!’ I laughed in delight at the idea of it. ‘This is going to be a wedding to remember, clearly.’
Maddy grinned. ‘Well, that’s the plan. So anyway, when would be the best time to hold this pudding event?’
‘I suppose it could be a weekly thing, maybe during September?’ suggested Ellie.
I nodded, finding myself being swept along by their enthusiasm. ‘We’ll be heading into autumn by then and people’s thoughts always turn to more warming food at that time of year. Well, mine do, anyway.’
Maddy nodded. ‘Mine as well. I’m a bit worried I won’t fit into my dress if I over-indulge, though.’
‘Rubbish. You always look great,’ said Ellie.
She groaned. ‘I wish that was true. But thank you for the vote of confidence. So... this would be the ultimate comfort food event, then? The same night every week? I love it!’
‘We’d need a name for it,’ murmured Ellie.
‘The Ultimate Comfort Food Event?’
‘That’s quite good,’ pondered Ellie. ‘But we need something snappier... something more memorable .’
We sat in silence for a moment, thinking about this.
‘What about The Sticky Toffee Pudding Club?’ I suggested, looking at the remains of the pudding on the table.
‘Nice,’ agreed Ellie. ‘But you’ll be demonstrating lots of puddings, not just this one.’
‘What about if we call it simply... The Pudding Club?’ suggested Maddy.
I nodded. ‘Or maybe the Sunnybrook Pudding Club?’
We looked at each other and smiled. We now had a name for our new venture that we all agreed on.
The Sunnybrook Pudding Club.