morning.’
‘You make a start on collecting together what you’ve got and mix up the other bits – the puddingy spongy stuff—’ Lance clutched his car keys ‘—and I’ll belt off to Herbie’s Healthfoods and see what I can find … Shan’t be long.’
And he wasn’t. Again, the ingredients weren’t exactly right, but as near as damn it. Rolling up their sleeves, the radio singing away, and aided by lots of coffee, they worked happily side by side at the table as they’d never done in all the years they’d been married. Richard and Judy sat up on top of the boiler and watched the proceedings with grave suspicion.
‘You don’t really believe in all this, do you?’ Lance asked once the first batch of puddings were in the oven and the kitchen looked like the aftermath of an explosion in a bakery. ‘That this odd concoction of herbs can actually – well – do things?’
‘No,’ Mitzi wiped a floury hand across her flushed cheeks. ‘Not really. I don’t believe in magic any more than you do, but I do think that maybe the odd combination of ingredients may have some sort of chemical effect on the brain. Or at least, they may have seemed to have done to a far more innocent generation than ours. Like copious amounts of alcohol or cannabis do now.’
‘Maybe – but on the other hand,’ Lance muttered, undoing the last packet of biscuits with his teeth, ‘you may be tinkering with the black arts without being aware of it. Some of the stuff in these recipes is pretty suspect – and Lu told me what happened after the Wishes Come True Pie.’
Mitzi frowned. She hoped Lulu hadn’t told Lance too much – especially what she herself had wished for.‘Coincidence, all of it. Probably all the Powers of Persuasion Puddings will do is give Tarnia raging heart-burn. ‘
‘Then they won’t have been wasted,’ Lance laughed. ‘Right – are we ready for the next lot?’
They were just removing the first baking tray from the oven when Flo bustled in through the back door.
‘Sorry I’m late, duck, but I had to help Clyde with his demijohns. He’s got eighteen gallons of courgette and rose hip just on the turn and we’d have been awash with the bloody stuff if I hadn’t waded in and helped him and – bloody hell!’ She took in the domestic scene round the kitchen table. ‘What’s he doing here? You haven’t gone stupid and taken him back, have you?’
Having closed the oven door on the second batch, Lance pulled a face. ‘And I love you too, Flo. Clear a space and sit down.’
Laughing, Mitzi blew flour away from the kettle and reached for another mug. ‘You can test the first of our puddings – seeing as Lance has eaten all the biscuits.’
Flo still looked perplexed. ‘But you don’t cook, Mitzi. And you certainly don’t cook with him. And—’ she glanced at the smouldering heaps on the baking tray ‘—they aren’t puddings – they’re overdone fairy cakes.’
True, Mitzi thought, they did look more like little glossy brown cakes. She’d thought they’d emerge in golden fluffy mounds. Still, they looked reasonably edible and smelled – er – okay. But there was no way on earth she’d let Flo know they were, well, dabbling. Fortunately Granny Westward’s recipe book was well hidden beneath the table-top debris.
‘They’re for this afternoon – my first meeting at the village hall,’ she explained glibly, handing Flo a mug. ‘You know how bad the committee are on providing refreshments. And Lance was here and well, got roped in.’
‘Hmmm …’ Flo remained unconvinced, but bravely reached for the baking tray.
Mitzi and Lance exchanged glances.
Flo took a bite, gave a little scream and frantically fanned her mouth. ‘H-h-hot! Bloody hot!’
Mitzi screwed her eyes up and held her breath. Whether the Powers of Persuasion Puddings did their trick or not wasn’t uppermost in her mind. She’d be happy if they were simply edible. And anyway, it didn’t hurt to
‘You make a start on collecting together what you’ve got and mix up the other bits – the puddingy spongy stuff—’ Lance clutched his car keys ‘—and I’ll belt off to Herbie’s Healthfoods and see what I can find … Shan’t be long.’
And he wasn’t. Again, the ingredients weren’t exactly right, but as near as damn it. Rolling up their sleeves, the radio singing away, and aided by lots of coffee, they worked happily side by side at the table as they’d never done in all the years they’d been married. Richard and Judy sat up on top of the boiler and watched the proceedings with grave suspicion.
‘You don’t really believe in all this, do you?’ Lance asked once the first batch of puddings were in the oven and the kitchen looked like the aftermath of an explosion in a bakery. ‘That this odd concoction of herbs can actually – well – do things?’
‘No,’ Mitzi wiped a floury hand across her flushed cheeks. ‘Not really. I don’t believe in magic any more than you do, but I do think that maybe the odd combination of ingredients may have some sort of chemical effect on the brain. Or at least, they may have seemed to have done to a far more innocent generation than ours. Like copious amounts of alcohol or cannabis do now.’
‘Maybe – but on the other hand,’ Lance muttered, undoing the last packet of biscuits with his teeth, ‘you may be tinkering with the black arts without being aware of it. Some of the stuff in these recipes is pretty suspect – and Lu told me what happened after the Wishes Come True Pie.’
Mitzi frowned. She hoped Lulu hadn’t told Lance too much – especially what she herself had wished for.‘Coincidence, all of it. Probably all the Powers of Persuasion Puddings will do is give Tarnia raging heart-burn. ‘
‘Then they won’t have been wasted,’ Lance laughed. ‘Right – are we ready for the next lot?’
They were just removing the first baking tray from the oven when Flo bustled in through the back door.
‘Sorry I’m late, duck, but I had to help Clyde with his demijohns. He’s got eighteen gallons of courgette and rose hip just on the turn and we’d have been awash with the bloody stuff if I hadn’t waded in and helped him and – bloody hell!’ She took in the domestic scene round the kitchen table. ‘What’s he doing here? You haven’t gone stupid and taken him back, have you?’
Having closed the oven door on the second batch, Lance pulled a face. ‘And I love you too, Flo. Clear a space and sit down.’
Laughing, Mitzi blew flour away from the kettle and reached for another mug. ‘You can test the first of our puddings – seeing as Lance has eaten all the biscuits.’
Flo still looked perplexed. ‘But you don’t cook, Mitzi. And you certainly don’t cook with him. And—’ she glanced at the smouldering heaps on the baking tray ‘—they aren’t puddings – they’re overdone fairy cakes.’
True, Mitzi thought, they did look more like little glossy brown cakes. She’d thought they’d emerge in golden fluffy mounds. Still, they looked reasonably edible and smelled – er – okay. But there was no way on earth she’d let Flo know they were, well, dabbling. Fortunately Granny Westward’s recipe book was well hidden beneath the table-top debris.
‘They’re for this afternoon – my first meeting at the village hall,’ she explained glibly, handing Flo a mug. ‘You know how bad the committee are on providing refreshments. And Lance was here and well, got roped in.’
‘Hmmm …’ Flo remained unconvinced, but bravely reached for the baking tray.
Mitzi and Lance exchanged glances.
Flo took a bite, gave a little scream and frantically fanned her mouth. ‘H-h-hot! Bloody hot!’
Mitzi screwed her eyes up and held her breath. Whether the Powers of Persuasion Puddings did their trick or not wasn’t uppermost in her mind. She’d be happy if they were simply edible. And anyway, it didn’t hurt to
Similar Books
