Bella's Christmas Bake Off: A fabulously funny, feel good Christmas read

by Sue Watson

  The conversation about her childlessness had upset Bella, and given what happened to her I wasn’t surprised. That might have been her only chance to ever have a baby and she’d been forced to terminate the pregnancy. I had lived with the guilt of this for years, even if my intentions were good, my actions caused this. If I’d just helped her and not gone running to her mother Bella could have had her baby and who knows, probably more. As an only child it was always her dream to have loads of kids and I’d ruined that for her. I didn’t follow her when she left the kitchen in tears, I assumed she needed her space, so decided to go outside and get something to eat.

  The food truck was parked a few hundred yards away from the house because apparently Bella didn’t like the smell. The crew were standing in clusters in the freezing cold tent, a bare electric light dangled from the roof and snow was coming down thick now. I wondered how long they’d put up with eating their food outside? I also wondered how long they’d put up with my contradicting Bella and being stroppy during filming. I pulled my coat around me tighter, shielding me against the wind. It was late and I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and when the lady working in the truck handed me a large, warm turkey sandwich dripping in cranberry sauce, stuffing and lined with crispy bacon, I could have kissed her.

  I walked into the food tent and found a small table with a plastic chair and sat down with my sandwich, there was nowhere else to go. The tables all looked very rickety but each one had a plastic floral Christmas arrangement on it and in the background was a choir recording of ‘Silent Night’. Bella would have been horrified at the decorations, the dodgy tinsel hanging around the tent would have been like garlic to a vampire – but it made me feel Christmassy. I was just finishing when I felt someone standing at the table, and as I turned, I saw it was Mike the cameraman. He was holding two polystyrene cups of steaming coffee. ‘Mind if I join you? Thought you might be in need of this,’ he said, handing me a cup.

  My heart melted. ‘Oh, thank you… you’ve no idea. I didn’t know where the drinks were.’

  He smiled without looking at me, just gazing ahead, and took a sip of his drink.

  ‘Is filming always like that?’ I asked, feeling the need to say something after he’d been so kind.

  ‘Yeah well, put someone like Bella on a high wire with someone like Fliss and add a little bit of Tim on his trapeze and you’ve got yourself a circus.’ His eyes smiled as he took another sip. I felt comforted, I’d been right that he was someone I could relate to in the middle of this madness.

  ‘Yes it’s all so dramatic, isn’t it? They can’t pass each other in the kitchen without it becoming a Greek tragedy or a love story of Shakespearean proportions. Then I enter and add my own flavour of chaos and confrontation.’

  He laughed. ‘Someone said you’re a teacher – you sound like one.’

  ‘Really?’ I said, a little put down by this.

  ‘Yeah, in a good way. I sometimes think it’s me who’s crazy and they are all quite normal.’

  I laughed. ‘Bella’s never been what you’d call normal, even before she was on TV she behaved like a celebrity – but it was funny then.’

  ‘So it’s true? You and Bella – that’s a weird thing – I heard that you knew her, years ago, but I can’t imagine you being friends, you seem so different.’

  ‘Yeah she was once a good friend of mine, but no one’s supposed to know.’

  ‘Your secret’s safe with me,’ he winked causing my cheeks to feel very warm.

  ‘Yep, Bella’s – a challenge – she seems to have no regard for anyone else. She insists on filming here, so she doesn’t have to get up early or travel, but everyone else does. And when we get here, we are all kept outside like dogs – even in this cold.’

  I nodded. ‘I know, but that’s because she thinks that’s how she should behave – and no one’s ever questioned her.’

  ‘Until now… you did today,’ he said, with a hint of mischief.

  ‘Oh I know, and it didn’t take much to light that bonfire,’ I rolled my eyes. ‘It wasn’t a conscious thing – I didn’t go on set and think – right, now I’m going to wind Bella up… she just made me angry because she can’t see she’s alienating her audience.’

  ‘Yeah, but that’s where you come in… that scene when you were both angry over the turkeys was priceless! Two well-dressed women smiling for the camera while battling it out over pig flesh, bleeding beef and dead bird carcasses. It was hilarious… the viewers will lap it up.’

  I wasn’t so sure. ‘Was it really that bad?’ I said.

  He nodded. ‘It was so bad it was great. Absolute carnage… and talking of carnage, I’d better set up for the tomorrow’s Christmas bloodbath,’ he said, nodding to the soundwoman who was tapping her finger on her wrist to indicate lateness.

  I thanked him for the coffee and meandered back towards the house in the hope of finding an overhanging roof or a porch to shelter under and finish my drink before going to bed. I doubted coffee in polystyrene cups was allowed at Dovecote and I didn’t want some embarrassing incident where I was banned from the building.

  I was just walking away from the catering tent, past a row of snow-covered trees when I saw a lonely figure heading down the driveway in my direction. As she came nearer, I could see it was Bella, lit by various safety lights, dressed in a long, hooded cape. She was treading carefully through the snow looking very glamorous like someone from a fairy tale.

  ‘Hi Bella,’ I said as she approached.

  ‘Oh Amy, I thought you were having supper in the tent?’

  ‘It wasn’t exactly supper, just a sandwich, but I’ve finished now, I’d recommend the turkey,’ I smiled, walking slowly past.

  She suddenly grabbed me. ‘Don’t go Amy… come back in with me.’

  ‘Okay,’ I laughed, turning round and walking with her. ‘You used to do this when we were teenagers, you always made me go to the toilets with you.’

  ‘Yeah I did, didn’t I? Do people ever really change, Amy? Despite everything, I still sometimes feel like a frightened little girl.’

  I was surprised at her sudden honesty, her vulnerability, and felt the need to reassure her.

  ‘We are all frightened little girls at times. My students would be amazed to know that every time I walk in that classroom I have to gather myself together, do a Lady Macbeth and screw my courage to the sticking place,’ I smiled as we walked out of the freezing darkness into the slightly warmer, brightly lit tent.

  ‘I feel like that little girl now,’ she whispered, looking down at her feet as we walked through to the other side of the tent where the food truck was situated.

  ‘But it’s only the crew and your friends,’ I said. ‘Tim’s over there telling them all about his “salty Shakespeare” and there’s Billy…’

  She seemed really nervous, but I could see why she felt like this because everyone was looking. People were nudging each other and staring as we passed them. Even I was beginning to feel quite self-conscious, and they weren’t looking at me.

  ‘I don’t usually come to the tent… well, I’ve never been in before. It’s only ’cos I knew you’d be here I thought I’d brave it, but I think I’ll go back now,’ she said in a whisper.

  ‘No you won’t,’ I said, linking her and drawing her towards the little van and ordering her a turkey bap with all the trimmings and two coffees. It seemed like it was quite a big deal for Bella to turn up here and I wasn’t going to let her go back and sit inside Dovecote alone.

  As we walked away to find a rickety table, I waited for her shriek of horror at the sight of the wobbly Christmas table arrangements that had seen better days. But she sat down, began eating her turkey bap with gusto and said, ‘It feels quite Christmassy, doesn’t it?’

  I nodded, surprised at her positive reaction, perhaps it was dawning on Bella that you didn’t have to have the very best designer decorations to make Christmas sparkle.

  ‘I’m sorry if I upset you before… talking about you a
nd Peter not having children,’ I started. ‘I’ve often wondered why you didn’t… if it had something to do with the abortion…’

  Bella nodded. ‘It was a terrible time, Ames, once you told her, Mum made me an appointment at the clinic the next day, I cried for weeks. But it wasn’t all your fault. My mother played her part.’

  ‘Still, if I’d just kept the secret and never told her, things would be different now.’

  ‘Who knows… perhaps it just made me stronger?’

  I nodded.

  ‘But you really don’t need to take any guilt on about me and Peter not having any children. I’m fine, Peter’s fine – we could probably have kids, we just don’t want kids together because we have our careers. Okay?’

  I wondered if she really believed that her career was enough, especially as she’d lived through her parents’ work-driven lives and always vowed to be different. I didn’t pursue it, Bella was making it clear she’d had enough for now, and as things seemed slightly easier between us I didn’t want to push my luck. So while she ate her bap I tried to lighten the mood and gave her a running commentary about one or two of the others in the tent. ‘Tim is DEVASTATED,’ I said. ‘Dame Judy is waiting at The Royal Court for him but he just has to do another bloody shot with bloody Bella and her stuffing first,’ I said in Tim’s voice. Bella giggled, it was something we did as kids, saying funny stuff under our breath about whoever was in our vicinity.

  ‘But dahling, I remember a time when breasts were in and food porn was the only thing we got off on,’ Bella added in Fliss’s voice. ‘Yes dahling, those were the days… when you were giving it to them like a page 3 wannabe.’ We both giggled, watching Fliss, who had now moved outside the tent for a fag and all that could be seen of her was a curl of grey smoke. Every now and then a car headlight would light her up in her furry pink jacket, matching kitten heels deep in the snow – leaning against the tree and breathing in huge lungfuls of smoke.

  ‘You okay now?’ I asked Bella when we’d finished laughing and she’d finished eating.

  ‘Yes… I am… thanks.’

  ‘Good, it’s great that you came in here and… mixed with everyone.’

  She looked at me over her polystyrene coffee cup. ‘I wouldn’t exactly call it mixing…’

  I’d worried that I wasn’t really fitting in, but here was Bella who had known these people for years, and she couldn’t even share a cup of coffee with them.

  ‘Why have you never mixed with the people you work with?’ I asked, reverting to my role as a teacher. ‘It makes life so much easier when you share stuff with your colleagues, Bella. I do it all the time at school, we complain to each other about the kids and the lack of equipment and it doesn’t change anything but it does make you feel better.’

  ‘Oh, you’ve always been happier around people than I have, Ames… I’ve never been comfortable sharing, and now it’s even worse because I have to be so careful what I say in case it gets back to the tabloids. They are relentless, they even did a story on Pussy Galore last week – did you see it? They said she’d been shagging the local Tom Cat “in the walled garden of Bella’s £3m Cotswold mansion” – they didn’t even get that right, Dovecote is worth far more than that.’

  ‘Poor Pussy Galore having her honour besmirched by the press,’ I giggled. Bella’s white Persian cat was almost as famous as her owner, often joining her on the sofa during filming, adding to the glamour. She’d even done some cat fashion shoots, modelling cat dresses and collars. And in the previous year’s Christmas special she’d worn a designer gown and a handmade tiara… both costing more than my monthly pay cheque.

  ‘Where is Pussy anyway? I haven’t seen her about the house?’

  ‘Oh he died… two weeks ago. Terrible timing given that we had this big Christmas Special.’

  ‘Oh no, you loved that cat…’

  ‘No I didn’t… he made me sneeze. It wasn’t even mine. Pussy Galore was an animal actor called Bert, we hired him for the show. I was bloody furious when he dropped dead like that… Fliss tried to stop the cheque, but it was too late.’

  ‘So you read everything on autocue, you rarely bake, and now you’re telling me that Pussy Galore… is a boy…?’ I said, feeling like I was suddenly in a Christmas mystery – ‘The Secrets of Dovecote Hall.’

  ‘Yeah. But not a word, about any of it. Fliss ordered another Pussy Galore to be delivered this afternoon but he scampered off and Fliss is distraught, she’s been chain smoking since it happened – didn’t you hear her shouting ‘‘where’s my pussy’’ all afternoon?’ I nodded – I’d been only too aware of Fliss making like a chimney and shouting about her pussy, but quite honestly this wasn’t anything unusual where Fliss was concerned.

  ‘Anyway, the new Pussy Galore – the one who escaped – is called Keith,’ she giggled and rolled her eyes at the madness of it all. ‘I told you, Amy, there’s no place to hide. As if my life’s not hard enough, I now have pussy problems,’ she spluttered into her coffee.

  ‘How funny. TV is a strange and magical world, isn’t it?’ I said, feeling a bit like Alice in Wonderland after she’s taken the potion – nothing was what it seemed. ‘Are you really Bella?’ I laughed. ‘Or… are you an actor called Fred wearing a wig and dentures?’

  She smiled at this, but in an ironic sort of way. ‘I don’t think there’s an actress anywhere who could play me, I play the part too well…but yes, you guessed it – I wear a wig, my hair’s not as thick and lustrous as it was, whose is?’ I didn’t say anything, it was yet another confirmation of how tough it was to stay at the top – and how many lies she had to tell to stay there.

  ‘I couldn’t live like you, Bella, in a world where everyone wakes up for the camera and then falls back to sleep as soon as it’s turned off,’ I said as we got up from our chairs and headed out into the darkness. I linked her arm in mine like we used to as girls as we walked back up the long gravel drive to the house. ‘I’d feel like I was losing myself.’

  ‘Bella lost herself a long time ago, love. And don’t get me started on the Silver Fox…’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I swallowed, I could take a wig and a fake ham and even a Pussy Galore called Bert… but Peter, the husband who couldn’t get enough of Bella’s delicious titbits? Was he not everything he seemed either? ‘You and Peter are happy… aren’t you?’

  ‘Oh I can’t really talk about it. If anything got out I’d be ruined… mind you, like I said to Fliss, I could write one hell of an autobiography. The stuff I’d tell would stun the world.’

  ‘About your marriage, you mean?’

  ‘My marriage is some of it, yes – my marriage isn’t about love, it’s about money,’ she sighed. ‘Then there’s the other thing…’

  Suddenly Tim appeared at my elbow and I wanted to swat him away because Bella was just beginning to open up to me, but Bella seemed almost relieved that Tim’s arrival had stopped her from saying too much.

  ‘I love your hat, Tim,’ she said, referring to his headwear – bunny ears and a sprig of holly.

  ‘Yes, darling, Kevin Spacey bought it for me when we did Shakespeare together in London… “Tim,” he said, “you are literally the best director I have ever had the privilege to work with”.’

  ‘Well, I think you’re the best director I’ve worked with too – compared to Kevin, I’m nothing, but it’s not all about the biggest and the best, you know, Tim,’ Bella teased.

  I had to smile at this.

  ‘Thank you, my love. Can I walk you ladies back to the big house for bedtime?’ he said, grabbing my arm with one hand and Bella’s with the other and guiding us both back to the house. My heart sank– what on earth had Bella been about to tell me?

  13

  Christmassy Cocktails and Bubbly Baths

  Back inside Dovecote it was clear Bella didn’t want to talk any more, and she rushed upstairs two at a time, presumably to see Peter. Meanwhile, my head was fizzing with our last conversation and what she could possibly mean a
bout her marriage… and she said there was other stuff too – it would ‘stun the world’, she’d said. I tried to put it from my head, there was nothing I could do and would have to wait and see if, at some point in the next day or two, she would tell me. I’d seen a glimpse of the old Bella that evening, I’d seen her vulnerability which she rarely revealed to anyone. Who knew what might happen in the future with our friendship, but just spending time with her and laughing like we used to lifted some of the heavy weight of guilt I’d been carrying around all these years. Her mother had forced her into that abortion and I’d always wondered if it had affected her fertility. Hearing that it had been her and Peter’s choice not to have children was a huge relief.

  Back in my room I closed the door and breathed deeply. It smelt of vanilla and Christmas, the sting of pine fragrance from the huge Christmassy flower arrangement creating a delicious Christmassy cocktail of scent. The whole conversation with Bella about being childless had made me think how lucky I was. I longed to hug my kids and couldn’t wait to see them after Christmas, but for now a text would have to do. I sent them both the same one, asking if they were ok, and that I was having an amazing time and loved them very much.

  Jamie’s was typical, with just an ‘All good, see u Boxing Day. x’ but Fiona’s was more ‘Fiona’, asking me about Bella ‘what’s she really like Mum? Have you two made friends now? I can’t wait to hear all about it. Love you. X’

  I held my phone to my chest, both my children were happy and well and nothing else really mattered in the great scheme of things. I gazed around the lovely room, feeling very lucky - the beautiful bedspread had been turned down by Bella’s housekeeper and those soft pillows and high count cotton were inviting. But first – a steaming hot bath in the lovely tiled bathroom. My fingers ran along the Molten Brown bath products lining the shelf above the bath, all in the same shade of gold and chocolate. I chose Black Peppercorn body wash, which exuded a warming aromatic spiciness as I poured it under the running tap. As I undressed and sunk into the deep, hot bath, I knew I was tasting a little flake of Bella’s life and I lay there for a while, the bubbles melting as I wondered some more about her secrets. Perhaps it wasn’t a physical inability to have children… but an emotional one after what happened? And I wondered again if she regretted not having children and if it was more Peter’s idea than hers. Climbing out of the bath, I wrapped the fluffy robe around me, thinking how money must make Bella feel cosseted and cared for. It was easy for Bella to mistake material luxuries for love, because she’d never known real love from her parents, just beautiful things instead.