and Anna braced herself. Marla was about as innocent as Bill Sikes. ‘I wasn’t going to say anything, but my mum told me she’d tried that recipe too. She actually wondered if you’d printed the wrong measurements? Hers turned out very strange, like totally gross. Ended up in the dog’s bowl and even he wouldn’t touch it.’
‘It’s best not to give dogs sugary things,’ Anna said, refusing to take the bait. ‘Anyway, cheers Joe. Glad the measurements were printed correctly in your mum’s newspaper,’ she couldn’t resist adding. ‘And happy Christmas if I don’t see you later.’
‘You too, Anna. Hope it’s a tasty one.’
She smiled as he walked away, then stacked her new utensils at the side of her desk. Freebies from the Kitchen Shop! That was praise indeed. Maybe she could suggest a kitchen gadgets review section to Imogen next, where she tried out different pieces of equipment . . .
She began typing again with a new burst of energy. Thank you, Jean Partington, for your timely retirement decision, she thought. This is the best thing that ever happened to my career. And thank you, Joe’s mum, for trying my recipe too. How many other people, she wondered, had read her words and made their own panettone for the festive period? She loved imagining full cake tins around the county, safely stored in cupboards, as everyone waited for the big day to arrive. Her father would surely be proud of her if he knew she was bringing a little slice of Italy to Yorkshire.
Chapter Nine
Il diario – The diary
April 19, 1993
So I know it was v bad but I couldn’t help myself – I picked up his Newky Brown and tipped it all over Jamie’s head. He was like, What the hell . . . ? – but the girls all gave me this massive cheer as I walked away. It was SO FUNNY!
June 2, 1993
Alex Zetland can KISS MY ARSE if he thinks he’s got a chance with me now. I’m fuming! Stupid lairy bastard. I elbowed him right in the nuts when he tried to grope me. To think I used to fancy him!
July 11, 1993
Me and Zoe are OFF tomorrow! Soooooo hysterically excited I might wee myself. Gary was all like, Are we still an item or what, but I was just like, Sorry, Gazza, I’m off inter-railing, let’s not tie ourselves down, yeah?
He looked a bit excited at the ‘tying ourselves down’ bit until he clocked what I meant. Was that harsh of me? I don’t actually care. I’m off for some European fun and adventures and copious amounts of la-la-la-la-lager!
During a massive, cathartic clear-out, Catherine had come across some of her old diaries. God, she’d been a feisty thing in her student years. Ballsy and bolshy, not putting up with any shite. Admittedly, Catherine wasn’t exactly proud of this behaviour now: throwing alcohol over men, assaulting their privates, dumping them heartlessly as she left the country . . . She hoped Emily wasn’t behaving like this at university – or Matthew, come to that. Mind you, the nothing’s-gonna-stop-me attitude that shone from the pages of her diary was one she kind of admired.
She’d been so sure of herself back then, so confident. But then she’d met Mike and everything had changed. She had changed. It was only now he had gone that she was starting to question herself, to re-evaluate their relationship. Had it really been as solid as she’d always assumed? Had she and Mike truly completed one another?
A few weeks earlier, she’d been working at the care home and overheard Nora and Violet, two of her favourite old ladies, reminiscing about their passionate romances in times gone by and giggling naughtily together. Their tales made Catherine feel empty – then envious. How they’d adored their beaus and flings! Could she honestly say she had ever felt that way about Mike?
Then, a week or so ago, when she was doing a shift in the charity shop, a tanned young blonde woman had come in, looking for cheap black trousers and white shirts she could wear for a waitressing job ‘because I’ve
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