CHAPTER THIRTEEN
By the time I got back to the Brambleberry Manor estate, red-faced and hot after my marathon, it was almost closing time. But Fen, who’d recently returned to work at the café there, after the birth of her twins, gave me a big smile when she saw me and ushered me through to the kitchen.
‘The Sunnybrook Pudding Club.’ She scanned the poster I gave her. ‘What a fabulous idea this is. I’m definitely coming along to it, and I’m telling all my friends as well.’ She grinned. ‘Who doesn’t love a good pud? And a cookery demonstration. I have a feeling you’re going to be full to capacity.’
My face must have betrayed my nerves because she smiled and said, ‘You’ll be great, Annalise. Honestly, you will. You’re passionate about your subject and really, that’s half the battle when it comes to entertaining an audience.’
‘It’s just I’ve never had to stand up and speak to a room full of people before,’ I confessed. ‘I’m worried I might just dry up after the first sentence. Or even worse, bore everyone to death!’
She laughed. ‘You won’t do that. But I used to be painfully shy, so I know what it’s like to worry about how you’re coming across to people. I used to worry about absolutely everything. But then I started asking myself: What’s the worst thing that can happen if I put myself out there? I might say something embarrassing. But so what? People do that all the time. It’s called being human.’
‘That’s a great way of looking at it.’
‘My advice would be just to fix your eyes on a friendly face in the crowd and talk to that one person, as if it’s just the two of you having a conversation.’ She grinned. ‘You might want to prepare them beforehand, just in case they think you’re weird for staring at them, I suppose. You could always talk to me, if you like.’
I laughed. ‘Brilliant. I might just do that. Thanks, Fen.’
‘No problem. Now, I’m going to get this poster in the window before we close for the day, okay?’
After I left the café, I walked around the little community of artisan shops, and everyone I spoke to seemed more than happy to put a Pudding Club poster in their window, and several shop-owners even told me they’d definitely come along to the first meeting.
After the crushing disappointment of missing Jensen earlier, I felt buoyed up by the overwhelmingly positive response and I was smiling as I left to catch the bus back to Sunnybrook. I had a feeling I might have to wait some time, but it had been worth the trip out here.
As I was passing the car park, I spotted a familiar face and she waved. It was Maya, our next-door neighbour.
‘Need a lift?’ she called, and I hurried over.
‘That would be lovely. Thank you.’ Then I saw who was in the passenger seat and my heart sank into my wedge sandals.
Marguerite.
I slipped into the back. ‘Hi, Marguerite. How are you?’
I hadn’t seen her since the day she fired me. But hopefully that would all be forgotten now...
‘Fine.’ She turned and gave me an approximation of a smile. ‘I hear you have a new vocation now. From wedding boutique assistant to cookery demonstrator, almost overnight! You don’t let the grass grow under your feet, Annalise. Congratulations.’
I laughed awkwardly. Was that a compliment or was she being sarcastic? Knowing Marguerite as I did, I definitely suspected the latter. But I kept my smile fixed in place. ‘Thank you. It all happened very quickly. But yes, the first meeting of the Sunnybrook Pudding Club is next Thursday.’
‘And we’ll be there,’ beamed Maya as we drove away. ‘Won’t we, Marguerite?’
‘Great!’ My smile slipped a little at the news that Marguerite would be in the audience.
She turned in her seat again. ‘Let’s hope you’re better at making puddings than you are at retail.’ Maya shot her a warning look, which Marguerite totally ignored. ‘Well, let’s face it, you can’t be any worse , can you?’ She gave me another of her glacial smiles. ‘I’m joking, of course. I’m sure you’ll be absolutely wonderful, Annalise.’
Maya asked about Loli and I told her she was being as stubborn as always, refusing to let me help by getting tested as a possible donor.
She nodded. ‘You’re her whole world, Annalise. She’d hate to think she was putting your health at risk to save herself.’
‘I know. But it’s what I want to do.’ I shrugged in frustration.
Maya sighed. ‘Perhaps she’ll change her mind.’
‘Fingers crossed.’
Changing the subject, Maya asked what I had planned for the first night of the club, and we chatted about the puddings I’d be making.
‘I love that you’re starting off with a history of puddings. I remember my granny making the most glorious rice pudding every Sunday for the family lunch.’ She sighed. ‘I haven’t made a real rice pudding for years. People just open a tin now, which is such a shame, really.’
She smiled at me in the rear-view mirror. ‘Your grandmother tells me you’re hoping a certain handsome man might turn up at the meeting on Thursday? Jackson, is it?’
I laughed, feeling colour creeping into my cheeks. ‘Er... Jensen.’
‘Ah, yes. I went in to see her yesterday, and she was telling me you rescued a drowning dog together but you didn’t swap contact details so now you’re trying to find him again?’
‘Yes. That’s right. He was... very nice. But hey, that’s life. He might not even want to be found.’
‘And what about the dog?’
‘Oh, he’s such a cutie!’ I said with enthusiasm, relieved to be off the subject of Jensen. ‘But I think the poor little thing’s a stray. I named him Barley.’
‘Barley.’ She smiled. ‘What a lovely name.’
‘I’m going to adopt him if no one claims him.’
‘Brilliant! Well, now that Andrew and I are retired, we’ve got a bit of time on my hands. We can take Barley out for walks any time you need us to.’
‘Oh, that would be great. Mind you, I rather think Barley will be the one taking you for a walk!’
‘Good. He’ll keep us fit.’
We drove the rest of the way back to Sunnybrook in companionable silence. Marguerite lived on the outskirts of the village, so I knew she’d be dropped off first. It would be a relief because the tension in the car with her just sitting there in silence – like the spectre at the feast – was making me nervous. She was probably plotting her revenge for the Bucks Fizz disaster.
Maya drew up outside a semi-detached house in a pretty cul-de-sac and Marguerite thanked her and got out. Then she leaned back inside. ‘Would you mind waiting a moment, Maya? There’s something I’d like Annalise to see.’
‘Oh. Yes, of course.’
I looked at Marguerite in surprise as she opened the passenger door to let me out. What on earth was going on now? I didn’t trust that woman one little bit...
Another frosty smile. ‘Are you coming? I promise I won’t bite.’
‘Yes. Yes, of course.’ I got out and followed her up the path and into her house.
‘So when you were talking about old-fashioned puddings, I remembered I bought a rather elaborate pudding mould in an antique shop a while ago,’ she said, ducking down and opening one of the kitchen cupboards. She brought it out and gave it to me to look at.
‘Oh, this is gorgeous,’ I said in amazement. It truly was stunning. Loli and I had some pudding moulds of our own but they weren’t nearly as exquisite as this one, with its pretty scalloped edge and design of a fruit basket on top.
‘It’s Victorian. I bought it to display as an ornament. But you’re very welcome to use it in your demonstrations. If you’d like to.’
I looked at her in surprise. ‘I’d love to! Thank you so much, Marguerite.’
‘You’re very welcome.’
‘I’ll take good care of it. But wow, I’m already imagining the fabulous blancmange I could make, or maybe a strawberry jelly.’
‘Good. Well, you’d better not keep Maya waiting.’ She ushered me to the door.
‘Thanks again,’ I called back. When I got to the car, I turned to smile at her but she’d already vanished inside and closed the door.
‘That’s very nice of her,’ said Maya, when I showed her the mould. She seemed as surprised by Marguerite’s gesture as I was. ‘I suggested an afternoon out to try and cheer her up a bit. The wedding boutique’s closing at the end of the month.’
‘Oh. Why?’ I was genuinely shocked.
‘It’s been making a loss for a while, according to Andrew, but his sister’s a proud person and I don’t think failure was an option so she kept on going. But now that she can’t afford to pay the rent on the shop, she’s been forced to throw in the towel, and she doesn’t even seem to have the heart to open up some days now.’ She sighed. ‘Marguerite’s not my favourite person, but I do feel sorry for her.’
‘Oh, dear.’ I stared at the pudding mould on my knee. ‘That’s really sad. She’s had the shop for quite a while, hasn’t she?’
Maya nodded. ‘Five years. But times are tough. Everyone’s cutting back, I suppose.’
‘Even when planning weddings.’
‘Even then,’ she agreed.
I felt terrible now, thinking of how stressed Marguerite was when Lady Arabella was arriving at the boutique. The kudos of dressing a member of the local aristocracy on her wedding day could have been a good advert for the shop, maybe leading to increased sales.
Now that I knew the background to that day – with Marguerite trying to cling on to her business but failing – I did feel bad about criticising her so harshly to Loli.
Her kindness in lending me the beautiful jelly mould was really touching. Perhaps I’d been too quick to judge her...