it up to the light. ‘So I bought one along with the makers.’
‘Do you think we might need more than one session to master all of this?’
‘We’ll be fine,’ Anna said confidently, excited about the cooking ahead. ‘You’ll see.’
They worked together through the afternoon and evening, mixing, heating and stirring, losing all track of time as they focused on their ice cream creations. They’d just finished a batch of blueberry when they heard Jon’s key in the front door.
‘Wow,’ Jon said, as he walked into the kitchen and saw the mess that Anna and Imogen had made in the kitchen. Mixing bowls covered every surface, and there were ice cream splatters on the wall from where they’d overfilled the maker on their first try. ‘What on earth … ?’
‘We’ve been experimenting,’ Imo piped up, offering him a bowl of one of their finished creations. ‘This one is blueberry.’
‘Very nice,’ Jon said, with a nod, then turned to flick the kettle on and get his regular mug out of the cupboard. ‘Anyone want a cuppa?’ he asked.
‘We just had one, thanks. But seriously, Jon, try some,’ Imogen said, passing him a silver spoon with blueberry ice on it.
Anna shook her head, and motioned for Imogen to put the spoon back. ‘He’s not our ideal ice cream tester.’
‘Afraid I’m lactose intolerant,’ Jon said, adding a dash of soy milk to his mug of PG Tips. ‘And even if I wasn’t, I’m trying to stay healthy. Sorry. It looks delicious though.’
‘Fair enough,’ Imogen said. She turned to Anna with a smile. ‘More for us, then.’
Jon took his tea through into the front room, and Imogen decanted the first of their ice cream creations – a rich vanilla – into a Tupperware freezable tub. ‘Not bad, for a first attempt.’
‘I think we achieved a lot today,’ Anna replied. She ran the hot tap until the sink was full of warm water and washing-up bubbles.
As she rinsed the whisk under the tap, it really started to sink in. They were doing, or at least were going to be doing, the thing she had always dreamed of – making a living through selling culinary creations, making money, yes, but hopefully making people happy along the way too.
‘Is Jon OK?’ Imogen whispered to her sister, once he’d left the room.
‘Oh, he’s fine,’ Anna said. ‘He likes a bit of space sometimes, that’s all.’
‘It’s me, isn’t it? I said I was only going to stay a couple of nights and I’m still here cramping your style two and a half weeks later. Well, don’t you worry,’ Imogen said. ‘I’ve got the keys to Granny V’s house. Mum suggested I move in there for a while actually, keep an eye on the place. She thinks she’s managed to stall Françoise and Martin on selling it to the developers, but she’s still not sure what they’re capable of.’
‘Are you sure? You’re welcome to stay here, you know. Don’t mind Jon, really. You’re family.’
‘It’s fine,’ Imogen said. ‘Honestly. You’ve been so generous already, and the house is only round the corner. I’ll move next weekend.’
‘Alfie,’ Anna said. A week had passed, and the sisters were at Anna’s flat on the night before their shop launch. ‘Can you come and help us with something? Me and Imogen are doing some colouring.’
Alfie scooted out of his bedroom and followed Anna intothe living room of her flat. The floor was covered with newspaper and laid out in the middle was a large banner that Imogen had just finished the lettering on. It read: OPENING DAY!
‘Let’s get you an apron,’ Anna said, returning in a moment with a child-sized one. ‘We’ve got paints and crayons. Do you think you can help us?’
‘Yes!’ Alfie said, excitedly kneeling down and choosing a bright red crayon as Imogen did up his apron straps. ‘Alfie’s making letter A red.’ He scribbled over the outline, pressing hard with the crayon.
‘Bagsy blue,’ Imogen said, picking up another crayon and joining him on
‘Do you think we might need more than one session to master all of this?’
‘We’ll be fine,’ Anna said confidently, excited about the cooking ahead. ‘You’ll see.’
They worked together through the afternoon and evening, mixing, heating and stirring, losing all track of time as they focused on their ice cream creations. They’d just finished a batch of blueberry when they heard Jon’s key in the front door.
‘Wow,’ Jon said, as he walked into the kitchen and saw the mess that Anna and Imogen had made in the kitchen. Mixing bowls covered every surface, and there were ice cream splatters on the wall from where they’d overfilled the maker on their first try. ‘What on earth … ?’
‘We’ve been experimenting,’ Imo piped up, offering him a bowl of one of their finished creations. ‘This one is blueberry.’
‘Very nice,’ Jon said, with a nod, then turned to flick the kettle on and get his regular mug out of the cupboard. ‘Anyone want a cuppa?’ he asked.
‘We just had one, thanks. But seriously, Jon, try some,’ Imogen said, passing him a silver spoon with blueberry ice on it.
Anna shook her head, and motioned for Imogen to put the spoon back. ‘He’s not our ideal ice cream tester.’
‘Afraid I’m lactose intolerant,’ Jon said, adding a dash of soy milk to his mug of PG Tips. ‘And even if I wasn’t, I’m trying to stay healthy. Sorry. It looks delicious though.’
‘Fair enough,’ Imogen said. She turned to Anna with a smile. ‘More for us, then.’
Jon took his tea through into the front room, and Imogen decanted the first of their ice cream creations – a rich vanilla – into a Tupperware freezable tub. ‘Not bad, for a first attempt.’
‘I think we achieved a lot today,’ Anna replied. She ran the hot tap until the sink was full of warm water and washing-up bubbles.
As she rinsed the whisk under the tap, it really started to sink in. They were doing, or at least were going to be doing, the thing she had always dreamed of – making a living through selling culinary creations, making money, yes, but hopefully making people happy along the way too.
‘Is Jon OK?’ Imogen whispered to her sister, once he’d left the room.
‘Oh, he’s fine,’ Anna said. ‘He likes a bit of space sometimes, that’s all.’
‘It’s me, isn’t it? I said I was only going to stay a couple of nights and I’m still here cramping your style two and a half weeks later. Well, don’t you worry,’ Imogen said. ‘I’ve got the keys to Granny V’s house. Mum suggested I move in there for a while actually, keep an eye on the place. She thinks she’s managed to stall Françoise and Martin on selling it to the developers, but she’s still not sure what they’re capable of.’
‘Are you sure? You’re welcome to stay here, you know. Don’t mind Jon, really. You’re family.’
‘It’s fine,’ Imogen said. ‘Honestly. You’ve been so generous already, and the house is only round the corner. I’ll move next weekend.’
‘Alfie,’ Anna said. A week had passed, and the sisters were at Anna’s flat on the night before their shop launch. ‘Can you come and help us with something? Me and Imogen are doing some colouring.’
Alfie scooted out of his bedroom and followed Anna intothe living room of her flat. The floor was covered with newspaper and laid out in the middle was a large banner that Imogen had just finished the lettering on. It read: OPENING DAY!
‘Let’s get you an apron,’ Anna said, returning in a moment with a child-sized one. ‘We’ve got paints and crayons. Do you think you can help us?’
‘Yes!’ Alfie said, excitedly kneeling down and choosing a bright red crayon as Imogen did up his apron straps. ‘Alfie’s making letter A red.’ He scribbled over the outline, pressing hard with the crayon.
‘Bagsy blue,’ Imogen said, picking up another crayon and joining him on
Similar Books
