Wish Upon A Christmas Cake. Darcie Boleyn

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СКАЧАТЬ The traffic will no doubt be bad and your mother will want you there in time for dinner.’

      Ann was right; if I was late I’d never hear the end of it.

      I untied the strings of my apron and hung it on a peg by the door, then lingered in the doorway. It was a small yet perfectly organised space designed to accommodate our business needs. From the island in the centre to the large ovens and the oversized fridge, it had everything we needed. A variety of delicious freshly baked cakes and pastries were cooling on surfaces, their festive aromas both mouth-watering and comforting. All the smells of my childhood were right there in my adult world. Cinnamon and ginger, brandy and mixed fruits mingled enticingly with vanilla and citrus. Mince pies shone with their rich butter coating, waiting for a fine dusting of sweet white icing sugar, and fat brown Christmas puddings glistened, recently released from their individual moulds, their plump fruits inviting and sherry soaked. Yes, Ann and I had everything to be proud of this year. It might have been nice to have someone to share it with, someone to appreciate what I’d achieved, but I didn’t need a man to make me feel whole. As a single thirty-something woman, I was doing a damned good job.

      ‘Hey, dreamy, get a move on while I pack a box of Crumbtious goodies for you to take as a peace offering for Esther. Not that she eats anything with sugar in…anything at all for that matter judging by how tiny she is.’ Ann shook her head, then opened up one of our gold Christmas cake boxes and began filling it for me.

      ***

      Showered and dressed warmly in my stretchy jeans, baggy grey jumper and battered old cowboy boots, I threw my handbag onto the passenger seat of my VW Beetle. The boot was loaded with specially made delights from the shop and my modest hold all. I’d packed a minimum of outfits because I knew that whatever I took, my mother would find something to criticise. So what was the point in going overboard?

      ‘Hey, come on!’ Ann wrapped an arm around my shoulders. ‘It’s Christmas, honey, and you’re going to have a great time with that hunky brother of yours. I know you’ve missed him.’

      I smiled as the thought of seeing Karl warmed me up inside like spiced mulled wine. It would be great to spend some time with him and his new boyfriend. I was looking forward to getting to know Angelo Fiore – the gorgeous Italian model who had stolen my older brother’s heart. Karl had posted photographs of his lover on his private Facebook page and Angelo was hot in that very groomed and toned way. I preferred my men a bit rough around the edges, more Sons of Anarchy than Hugh Grant, which was why Ann had been surprised when I’d fallen into a relationship – if you could call it that – with Harrison Monroe.

      I shook my head. I wasn’t giving that cheating creep any space in my head, especially not over Christmas. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, getting involved with him. He was good-looking, ambitious, great in bed and he made me laugh – for a while at least. But after the initial excitement wore off, I soon realised that what we had wasn’t at all substantial. There was no way it could have lasted the distance. I blamed myself for hanging on to the relationship and not letting him know that it wouldn’t work out as soon as it became clear to me. It would have been so much easier for both of us. But I’d been so busy with the shop, and, admittedly, afraid to let go because it meant that I was accepting that he didn’t measure up to Sam. No one would ever measure up to Sam and that knowledge terrified me.

      ‘And you’re not to wallow in thoughts about what might have been…you know…with what’s-his- name.’ Ann planted a kiss on my cheek. The woman could read my thoughts, I was sure of it. ‘The cake mixes you’ve ruined because of that one.’ She laughed and wagged a finger at me but I knew that she understood. She made out that Harrison Monroe had been more to me than he was because she knew how I really felt. She’d been there for me when Sam and I split and she’d seen me sink to rock bottom before helping me to learn to live with my decision; the most difficult one of my life.

      I’d had a few dates and short-lived flings but always kept something back, so the men who entered my life soon got tired of trying to break through my icy veneer and gave up. Harrison had come along at a point when I’d decided to try to make a commitment or give up completely on dating. However, it hadn’t worked out, and Ann had talked me through the way I’d reacted when my somewhat tenuous attempt at an adult relationship with Harrison had failed. We’d even discussed how he might have wiped the fragments of our relationship from his designer fawn suede boots, keen to get rid of any traces of Katie Warham – that image had emerged after several large glasses of wine one Saturday evening. But try as we might to ignore it, we both knew that Sam had been, and always would be, the only man I’d ever really loved.

      So although it wasn’t heartbreak that was hanging around like a bad smell four months after my breakup with Harrison, it had dented my confidence and left me wondering exactly what I did want from a man. If I even wanted one in my life at all. Harrison had been something of a final attempt at love but I hadn’t committed enough for the relationship to progress. He had reacted by cheating. In fact, I had to admit that I had been deliberately absent from the relationship because I just didn’t want to move in with him. Something had held me back. And that something was called my past, AKA Sam.

      ‘Katie?’

      ‘I promise I won’t think about him at all!’

      ‘I wish I knew which him you were referring to, Katie, but just to be on the safe side, try not to think about either of them.’

      I saluted my friend, then she enveloped me in an apple blossom and coconut-scented hug. I’d miss Ann over Christmas. Last year we’d spent the festive season together with Harrison and Mark. It had been fun, most of it anyhow. We’d eaten too much and drunk too much but that’s what Christmas is all about, right? I’d been happy. Or at least I’d thought I was happy. Even when I opened Harrison’s surprise gift and found one of those celebrity diet and fitness videos complete with a stretchy rubber band to use to tone and strengthen my thighs. His gift had made me wonder exactly what he thought about my curves and if he was trying to tell me something – another good reason for getting out of the relationship. Or just another excuse…

      Harrison had claimed that he was doing me a favour, helping me to get my planned New Year’s resolutions off to a promising start with the latest dance-aerobic fitness craze. It was probably partly my fault that he’d decided I’d appreciate it. After all, I did tend to moan on occasion about how I wanted to lose weight, but don’t most people? In retrospect, it was highly likely that I’d actually planted the idea in his head. Had I deliberately manufactured the situation in order to compare Harrison unfavourably to Sam because Sam had always told me how much he loved my curves?

      However, this year, I was putting the past behind me and heading off to be with the glorious Warhams, while Ann would have a romantic Christmas for two in our shared flat.

      ‘And fingers crossed that Santa brings you what you want, Ann.’

      ‘What I want?’ Ann placed her hands on her hips and waggled her eyebrows.

      I winked at her. ‘I know what you really want.’

      ‘I don’t even know if I know what I want.’

      ‘You do, Ann. Deep down. I know what you’re hoping for.’

      ‘Well, we’ll see won’t we?’ Ann chewed her bottom lip and hugged herself.

      ‘He’s going to do it I’m sure.’

      Ann rubbed her empty ring finger.

      I hoped that Mark would come through for her. She was madly СКАЧАТЬ