mugs and I grinned, anticipating what delights she had created. When she handed me my mug, I wasn’t disappointed. The surface of the drink was frothy with whipped cream and when I sniffed it, the warming aromas of ginger and cinnamon made my mouth water. I couldn’t resist sticking my finger into the cream and scooping out one of our homemade gingerbread marshmallows. I placed it on my tongue and allowed it to slowly melt there, the sugary surface soon giving way to a soft and gooey centre.
‘Good?’ Ann asked as she sat next to me and grinned at me from beneath a whipped cream moustache.
‘Heavenly.’ I raised my mug to my lips and blew on the liquid, eager to cool it down and drink it. We sat like that, in the companionable silence of good friends, as we consumed our calorific hot chocolates and I could feel the strains of the day slipping away from me until I was almost comatose.
Ann turned in her seat to look at me. ‘So do you want to talk about it?’ Trust her to wait until I was too relaxed to put up a fight. I shrugged. How many times could we discuss the same old things?
‘Is it just Esther that’s worrying you?’
I bit my bottom lip. Was I worried about my mother being hard work over Christmas? Yes, but it was more than that. This year, there was so much more to think about and my vulnerability might mean that I couldn’t brush off Esther’s barbs in my usual practised way.
‘I’m pretty good at dealing with her after all these years, so it’s not really that. I just know that this Christmas is going to be so much harder…you know?’ I swallowed hard.
Ann covered my hand with her own and squeezed. ‘Because of your granny?’
I nodded and blinked hard. ‘I’m going to miss her so much this year. I mean, I’ve missed her madly these past few months but it’s just harder somehow at Christmas. It seems so wrong that she won’t be there.’
Ann reached out and wiped a rogue tear from my cheek. I took a few deep breaths, determined not to crumble.
‘What would your granny want you to do, Katie?’
‘To spend Christmas with my family.’
‘And why?’
‘Because her family was everything to her.’
‘Well there you go.’
I met Ann’s eyes and tried to smile. She gave me a sympathetic one in return and patted my hand, then something seemed to occur to her. Ann stood up and headed to the kitchen.
‘Where are you going?’
‘Be right back,’ she called over her shoulder. ‘I have an idea…’
I lay my head back against the sofa and thought about Granny. She had been such a character. A tiny, intelligent and witty lady, she’d been an eternal optimist, capable of seeing the silver lining in every cloud. On top of that, she’d been a layer of protection, soaking up some of the damage my mother could do by unfalteringly defending me and making me giggle whenever Esther became a bit overbearing. But now Granny was gone.
I had tried so hard over the years to let my mother’s negative comments wash over me but sometimes, even though I was thirty-two, she still managed to hurt me. But then a mother is meant to be a woman’s ultimate role model, her port in the storm, her protector. With Esther, it had never really seemed that way because she was always so bloody critical. Granny had been all the good things for me; basically another mother. It was like being in an American TV show growing up, with the good cop and the bad cop.
‘Here we go,’ Ann sang as she sashayed back into the shop. She placed a plate with a piece of our famous Christmas cake on it and a fork in front of me.
‘What’s this for?’ I asked. I was already riding the sugar high from her delicious hot chocolate.
‘Wish upon a Christmas cake!’ Ann exclaimed.
‘Huh?’ I raised a quizzical eyebrow at her.
‘Well I won’t have a wishbone till Christmas Day and it’s too cloudy for shooting stars tonight so I say we wish upon a Christmas cake that this be the best Warham family Christmas ever.’ She smiled encouragingly, but I still eyed her dubiously. ‘Oh come on, what have you got to lose? It could work; Esther might be nice for Christmas and you could get a tall, dark and handsome hunk in your stocking!’ She winked at me.
My heart pounded so I inhaled slowly. It had been a good day and I really didn’t want to ruin it by becoming all melancholy. It was Christmas, Granny’s favourite time of year, and I was determined to make her proud by savouring every moment. I smiled at Ann, she was only trying to help. ‘Okay,’ I said, stabbing a piece of cake with the fork. I closed my eyes and popped the moist, brandy-soaked fruit sponge in my mouth, wishing for a happy family Christmas – even without Granny.
I knew that we would all miss Granny and that I wouldn’t be alone in that. I’d tried to avoid thinking about it by keeping busy and avoiding going back to my parents’ house but I knew that I couldn’t run for ever. My father had lost his mother, Esther had lost a mother-in-law she’d lived with for the past three years and known for much longer, and my brother Karl would miss the grandmother who’d doted on him. I realised, the more I thought about it, that I wanted to be with my family this year. Who knew when we’d manage another big old-fashioned family Christmas? If we ever would with Mum and Dad moving away. Things could change so quickly from one day to the next. So I would make every effort for Granny this Christmas; I would aim to make her proud.
I mean, she might actually be watching over me like she’d always promised she would do.
***
The next few days passed in a flurry of baking, serving customers, last-minute shopping and wrapping of gifts. Before I could doubt my decision again, it was December twenty-third and Ann and I had closed the shop for the day and were tidying up the kitchen.
‘Right, Katie Warham, go take a shower and wash the flour out of your hair then get on the road. 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