It was a lovely thought.
‘I’ll try to do that, thank you.’
I smiled but she seemed lost in her own happy place. Mum had come over to see me in the summer, a flying visit, but we’d had such a happy time together. Nora was right, the memory was like a little pearl and I’d shine it in my mind and think happy thoughts. That would have to sustain me until I saw her in person again – whenever that might be.
A robin landed on a branch overhanging the river. It hopped further along the branch and onto the balcony handrail stopping just a few inches from us.
‘Look at him,’ I whispered, nudging Nora. ‘Completely fearless!’
‘What a lovely festive sight,’ she hissed back.
Being out here and seeing the bird reminded me of the first real conversation I’d had with Dave back in March when we’d opened the cookery school. I’d spotted a kingfisher and he’d told me that it represented a new activity and possibly a new love. Both had come true, I realized.
‘I wonder what it means,’ I murmured, to myself as much as to anyone.
‘Joy,’ said Nora simply. ‘The robin symbolizes joy. And that’s what we should all aim for in life: to squeeze joy out of every moment.’
She was right; I was wasting my time feeling low about being apart from my family, I should be inside sharing Mags’s and Dave’s, and Annabel’s and Jack’s joyful news.
But now, though … I checked my watch … it was almost four. Time to go back in and Facetime the Canada crew.
I looped my arm through Nora’s. ‘Have you had enough peace and quiet, or do you need another cigar?’ I said with a twinkle in my eye.
She laughed and we turned to go back inside, but there at the door was Tom with a trio of whiskies in a wooden box gift in one hand, my phone in the other and a big grin on his face.
‘Now this was addressed to Comfrey and Sage,’ he said, striding towards us, ‘so either I need to report you to the RSPCA for giving alcohol to dogs or somebody decided to flaunt the “no presents” rule.’
‘Well, I …’ I dug deep for something irresistibly cute and witty to say but words failed me. I pulled what I hoped was an apologetic face. ‘Sorry.’
Nora released my arm.
‘A proper sorry deserves a kiss,’ she said, walking in.
I bit my lip, wondering if I should follow her but she must have read my mind.
‘I’ll be fine, before you start fussing,’ she called, waving my worries aside.
I wrapped my arms around Tom next and did my best to apologize.
‘I could never stay cross with you for long,’ he said, responding to my kiss. ‘Now please come inside. It must be four o’clock. My in-laws will be dying to wish me a Merry Christmas.’
We ran upstairs so we could speak to Mum and Dad with the big Christmas tree as a backdrop and two minutes later, there they were, all gathered around my brother Matt’s laptop.
‘Hi, everyone!’ I yelled. ‘Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!’
My eyes filled with tears as they waved and sent back their love and Christmas greetings and everyone talked over everyone else, like families do, but I didn’t care, it was just so nice to see them, to feel part of their day. I laughed and cried and tried to answer their questions about the weather and our Christmas dinner and whether we were enjoying being in our new home together. Mum was in the centre of the group with little Eloise on her lap, both looking lovely in red dresses. Dad behind, hair all in tufts as usual, had his arm round Matt’s shoulders: peas in a pod, those two. And my sister-in-law, Celia, next to Mum, elegant and sophisticated in a silk dressing gown, full make-up and a glass of hot lemon tea – healthy as usual, even on Christmas Day, did that woman have no vices? And at the other side, blinking shyly was my nephew, Robin, with an iPad surgically attached to his hand.
My family, who I missed so intensely that the pain felt like a stab in the heart. My family.
‘Oh and Tom,’ said Mum, leaning forward and fluttering her eyelashes at him, ‘you naughty thing.’
I whipped round to look at him. ‘What have you done to my mother?’ I asked teasingly.
He opened his eyes wide, playing the innocent. ‘Nothing.’
‘Verity, look at this!’ Mum held up a piece of paper close to the screen. There was no way I could read it but I did recognize the logo at the top of the page: Air Canada.
My heart began to beat double time. ‘What is it?’ I said in a shaky voice.
Dad batted the piece of paper away from the screen. ‘Tom has very generously bought your mum and me flights to Ireland as a Christmas present. We’ll be joining you for New Year in Ballyrush.’
‘You’re coming to Ireland? With us?’ I said, confused.
I looked at Tom, who nodded smugly, and then back at the screen. Jack, Annabel, Pixie, Mags, Dave and Nora all whooped and clapped. From the looks on their faces, the news didn’t come as a shock to them. But it did to me; I just stared, open mouthed.
For three seconds it didn’t even sink in. And then it did and I couldn’t hold back my joy. I think I might have squealed. Loudly. Even in Canada, they stuck their fingers in their ears.
‘Sorry,’ I said breathlessly. ‘I’ve gone squeaky with ecstasy.’
Mum wiped tears from her cheeks. ‘Thank you, Tom; this gift has made my Christmas.’
‘And mine!’ I grinned at him.
I was dying to show him how much this meant to me, but we were only Facetiming on my phone, every move I made meant the family lost their picture. But I felt Tom’s hand in mine and I held it tight.
‘And when we heard about the party on New Year’s,’ Matt piped up, ‘we asked Tom’s parents if we could come too.’
‘So we’re all coming!’ said Eloise, waving her arms in the air like a one-munchkin Mexican wave.
‘Oh, sweetie, I can’t wait to see you all!’ I squealed again. ‘This is amazing, just amazing.’
We talked excitedly over each other for another couple of minutes until it was time to ring off. I blew them all kisses until the screen faded and shoved my phone in my back pocket.
‘So,’ I said mischievously. ‘So much for the “no presents” rule.’
He held his hands up. ‘Hey, the rule was no gifts for each other. I think you’ll find I’m innocent, Your Honour.’
‘Oh, I don’t care,’ I said, throwing my arms round his neck. ‘It was a stupid rule anyway. I’m so glad you bent it a bit. Come here.’
Everyone tactfully looked away while I gave Tom a Christmas kiss he wouldn’t forget in a hurry and we only came up for air when we heard the tooting of a car horn in the car park.
We all moved to the window to see Ravi’s Land Rover pulling as close to the front doors as he could get it. The two figures jumped out, ran to the back, kissed for quite some time before unloading our soup tureens and serving platters.
‘I’ll go and help,’ said Pixie, rushing off down the stairs.
‘Ah, the darlings, they look smitten already,’ said Annabel who since having shared her secret with Jack seemed to have bloomed and was now brimming with happiness. She curled her arm round Jack’s waist and he in turn caressed her pink cheek.
‘Who’s that with them?’ Mags squinted through the window.
We all stared as a third person clambered out of the car. Someone with poker-straight hair, a mobile phone clamped to her ear and sunglasses perched on top of her head.
‘Someone who thinks sunglasses on a dark, rainy December afternoon are just the thing,’ said Nora, amused.
My heart thumped for Pixie; there was only one person who could possibly fit that bill …
I pressed my face up to the window, waiting for Pixie to appear.
‘CHERYL!’ she yelled and ran flat out, arms akimbo at her girlfriend.
Within minutes everyone was back inside: Ravi offered to drive Mags, Dave and Nora home and Jack asked him to make a second trip for Annabel. Harriet was talking nineteen to the dozen about what an eye-opener it
had been working with the homeless; Ravi was quickly cornered by Nora to tell him about her experience with ‘abroad’ (she’d been to Lido di Jesolo in 1956 and came back looking like a raisin); and Pixie and Cheryl danced round and round in circles whilst exchanging their news.
Jack, Dave and Tom slipped out to sit in Ravi’s Land Rover (don’t ask, it must be a boy thing) and I took Mags to one side.
‘I am so pleased for you and Dave,’ I said, pulling her into a big hug. ‘You make such a lovely couple and you’ll be very happy together.’
‘Who’d have thought I’d get married?’ She shook her head, dazed. ‘I still can’t work out what I’ve done to deserve him.’
‘You brighten his life in a million different ways, remember?’
We both giggled and her eyes grew misty for a second and then she grinned. ‘Plus, I am insatiable.’
I laughed and pretended to block my ears. ‘Don’t let Nora hear that, she might want the family ring back.’
Mags rolled her eyes affectionately. ‘What is she like, saying she’s moving into a home? As if.’
I glanced over at Nora; she was still talking the ears off poor Ravi. Harriet had squeezed between them now and had his hand locked proprietorially in hers.
‘She doesn’t want to be a burden,’ I said in a low voice.
‘And she isn’t!’ Mags retorted. ‘In fact, even last night, Dave and I were talking about converting the middle floor of my house into a little suite for her so she gets her own privacy. Don’t worry, we’ll talk her round.’
I didn’t doubt it for a second.
And then Pixie came and joined us, arm in arm with Cheryl.
‘Guess what!’ she said, eyes shining. ‘Mum and Dad knew Cheryl was coming to stay as a surprise, that’s why they chucked me out of my room, because Cheryl’s booked us a hotel.’
‘I couldn’t say anything in case it fell through and I had to work today. Mind you, getting through all this bloody rain has been a class-one nightmare. My boss said I could put it on expenses,’ Cheryl confirmed, chewing on her gum as if her life depended on it, ‘because I’ve got to work all over New Year’s.’
‘So my parents hadn’t forgotten about me after all,’ Pixie beamed and then plonked a kiss on Cheryl’s lips. ‘This has been the best Christmas ever.’
Mags and I exchanged grins. The day may have started off a bit shaky but everyone had had their Christmas wish today. Except perhaps Tom, that is. All he had wanted was a quiet day, just the two of us. But there was still time. I turned to the staircase as I heard the men stomping up the stairs discussing the merits of selective over permanent four-wheel drive, whatever that is. Tom looked straight at me. I held his gaze and tapped Mags’s arm.
‘Have you got your set of cookery school keys on you, Mags?’
She confirmed that she had and that of course she’d lock up for me.
Still staring at Tom who was by now smiling back with bemusement, I stalked over to him and ran my hands up his chest to link them behind his neck.
‘Hey,’ I murmured, my lips only inches from his.
‘Hey, yourself.’
‘Fancy going home and adding a new Christmas tradition to the list?’
He smiled a smile that set my heart aflame. ‘What did you have in mind?’
I stepped as close as I could until I felt the thud of his heart beneath his shirt.
‘How does you, me and nothing but a string of fairy lights sound?’
The pupils of his eyes flared as he lowered his mouth to mine.
‘Not much in the way of comfort,’ he laughed softly.
‘Hmmm, maybe not,’ I said, pretending to ponder that as I covered his lips with kisses as light as snowflakes, ‘but I can guarantee plenty of joy.’
Comfort and Joy Christmas recipes
For me, one of the pleasures of Christmas is the chance to do a little festive cooking, and this story gave me the opportunity to mention lots of lovely food. Here are recipes for three of my favourite things cooked up by the Plumberry crew this season. I hope you enjoy them!
Christmas pudding fudge
Christmas chutney
Goat’s cheese and Leek stuffing for chicken or turkey
Christmas pudding fudge
This is such a lovely gift to give at Christmas; my daughters used to love wrapping fudge up in cellophane bags and tying with ribbon for their grandparents. I really recommend investing in a thermometer for making fudge – sometimes called a sugar or jam thermometer. You’ll find liquid glucose in the home-baking aisle at most supermarkets.
You will need . . .
450g golden caster sugar
400ml double cream
50g unsalted butter
1 tbsp liquid glucose
Pinch of salt
1 tbsp brandy (optional)
75g Christmas pudding (a mini pudding for one is perfect)
Grease a 20 x 20cm cake tin and line with baking paper. Break the Christmas pudding into small pieces.
Add the cream, sugar, liquid glucose and butter into a high-sided saucepan (the mixture will froth up!). Stir now and then over a medium heat until the sugar has dissolved and butter has melted.
Once dissolved, increase the heat and put a thermometer into the pan so that the tip is completely covered by the syrup. Bring the syrup to a steady boil, stirring regularly so that the sugar doesn’t burn on the bottom of the pan. As soon as the temperature reaches 116℃, remove the pan from the heat and leave it, with the thermometer still in.
When the temperature has dropped to 110℃, add the pinch of salt, brandy and the Christmas pudding. Beat with an electric hand whisk until the mixture drops to 60℃. At this point, remove the thermometer and set aside. Beat again for three more minutes to create a smooth and creamy fudge.
Pour into the prepared tin, smooth the surface and leave to cook for several hours (preferably overnight) at room temperature.
Once set and cooled cut into squares and package up ready to give away on Christmas Day. Not forgetting to leave a generous portion for yourself of course!
Christmas chutney
On Boxing Day, we like to have cold meats, salads (baked beans for my nephew) and jacket potatoes jazzed up with lots of lovely pickles and chutneys. This recipe makes four jars of chutney, so feel free to double the quantity if you wish to give some away as gifts. Also tastes delicious in cheese sandwiches.
You will need . . .
250g Bramley apples
250g red onions
250g courgette (or substitute marrow, butternut squash, green tomatoes)
2cm fresh ginger
1 clove of garlic
50g dried dates (use apricots if you prefer)
250ml cider vinegar
125 g light muscovado sugar
Pinch of chipotle chili flakes
½ tsp salt
Sterilize four jars and cut circles of greaseproof paper to size to sit on the top of the chutney.
Peel, core and chop the apples. Roughly chop the courgettes and onions, finely chop the garlic and ginger. Chop the dates into small pieces.
If you have a preserving pan use it, otherwise, choose a large heavy-based saucepan.
Place all the ingredients into the pan. Stir well over a medium heat until the sugar has dissolved.
Reduce the heat and allow to simmer for an hour, stirring regularly to ensure it doesn’t stick to the bottom of the pan. The chutney will thicken as it cooks. After an hour, scrape a spoon across the bottom of the pan, if the chutney doesn’t immediately re-cover the gap, it is ready.
Spoon into the sterilized jars and seal with a circle of greaseproof paper and a tight-fitting lid immediately. Tastes better if left for four to six weeks before eating and will last unopened for up to a year. Once opened keep refrigerated and eat within eight weeks.
Goat’s cheese and Leek stuffing for chicken or turkey
Harriet in Comfort and Joy runs the Plumberry Cheesemongers and I wanted her to share a recipe that c
ontained a nice soft cheese but no sausage meat. If you’re not a goat’s cheese fan, simply substitute for another soft cheese. Once you have prepared the stuffing, keep it refrigerated for up to 24 hours. This recipe is so delicious that I think it could probably be used to fill little pastry tarts too. You could also bake it separately to keep it suitable for vegetarians if you wished.
You will need . . .
1 large onion
2 leeks
75g unsalted softened butter
3 sprigs of thyme
3 sprigs of sage
100g soft goat’s cheese
3 heaped tbsp grated Parmesan cheese
50g wholemeal breadcrumbs
Salt and black pepper to taste
Wash and trim the leeks and chop finely. Chop the onion finely too. Fry the leeks and onion in a large frying pan in 20g of the butter until soft but not brown.
While the vegetables are cooling, strip the leaves from the herb sprigs and place in a food processor. Add the remaining butter, both cheeses, breadcrumbs and the cooled vegetables and blitz until thoroughly blended. The stuffing is now ready to use.
With the large cavity facing you, loosen the skin over the breast of either the chicken or turkey by sliding your fingers between the skin and the meat. Once you have made a pocket on both sides, push small amounts of the stuffing underneath the skin taking care not to tear it. Use your fingertips to massage the stuffing into place. Pull the skin back into place, securing with wooden toothpicks if necessary.
Roast the chicken or turkey as normal. Remove the toothpicks before serving.
About the Author
Cathy Bramley is the author of the bestselling romantic comedies Ivy Lane, Appleby Farm, Wickham Hall and The Plumberry School of Comfort Food (all four-part serialised novels) and Conditional Love. She lives in a Nottinghamshire village with her husband, two daughters and a dog.
Cathy loves to hear from her readers. You can get in touch via her website www.CathyBramley.co.uk, where you’ll also find details on her newsletter, her Facebook page Facebook.com/CathyBramleyAuthor or on Twitter: twitter.com/CathyBramley.
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