Because Fleur had got so excited about them, and because they hadn’t actually tackled pastry yet at cookery club, Cathy had decided that they’d have a go at mince pies together. Everyone had been happy about that, even though some had said they didn’t actually like mince pies. In fact, the number of people who’d told her that had worried her at first, and initially Cathy had been all for suggesting something else. However, almost all of those people had said that everyone they knew did like mince pies and they’d happily bake them to give away, especially as it was getting closer to Christmas.
If Cathy was honest, she had a love–hate relationship with mince pies herself. They were another one of those things her mum would bake every Christmas just because it was Christmas and you couldn’t have Christmas without mince pies. Cathy smiled as the scene unfolded in her mind.
She’d have been perhaps six or seven when she’d first helped her mum to make them. Cutting the shapes out was her favourite bit. She stood on a chair to reach the table and it wobbled on an uneven bit of floor tile every time she pressed down. The pies were always wonky, either too thin or too thick, with edges that wouldn’t fasten together once the mincemeat was in there. Still, Cathy’s mum had smiled with pride and pulled her in for a hug once they were all cut.
‘You’re a natural,’ she said. And little Cathy could have burst with pride. She hugged her mum tighter still. Miriam laughed lightly. ‘You can let go now, sweetie; lovely as they look right now, we need to put them in the oven and make them even lovelier.’
‘Can I put them in?’
‘We need to brush them first and sprinkle some sugar over them and then they’ll be ready. You think you can do that?’
Cathy nodded eagerly, and then followed a flurry of splattered milk and spilled sugar before the pies were ready to bake. And when they were done was the bit Cathy usually liked best – tasting.
‘Ready?’ her mum asked once they’d cooled enough to eat and she had two cups of tea on the table – one for her in a big mug the colour of amber, and one in a smaller mug that was more milk than tea for Cathy.
‘Yes.’
Cathy grabbed for the mince pie and bit into it. Instantly, her face went from excited expectation to serious disappointment. Her mum laughed loudly.
‘They take some getting used to, sweetie. You don’t have to eat it if you don’t like it.’
Cathy wanted to eat it to make her mum happy, and so she shoved the rest in and chewed rapidly until it went down, and the sight of it made her mum laugh more loudly than ever.
Right now, as Cathy wandered around, the air filling with flour as it puffed up from workstations in little clouds, the memory was still fresh in her mind and making her smile. Some were handling pastry better than others and her expertise had been called on a lot more than in previous weeks. Most of the time the fault was that people were just too diligent, overworking it so that it was like plasticine or rolling it too thick or too thin. Cathy tried to explain that sometimes it was all about having the confidence to leave well alone when it looked like it might be mixed; with pastry, less was often more, but many just didn’t seem to get it, and she’d been greeted with some blank looks. She hoped that less than perfect pastry wouldn’t put them off trying it again at home, because she felt certain that it wouldn’t take long for people to get the hang of it and good home-made pastry really was worth the effort.
‘Tansy would have this nailed by now,’ Erica said as Cathy went over to see how she was getting on. ‘She’s really good at stuff like this.’
‘It’s a shame she couldn’t come today,’ Cathy said.
‘I expect she’ll come over to ours later,’ Erica said. ‘I might let her have a go at these in our kitchen if Malc doesn’t object too much.’
‘They’re still not getting along?’ Cathy asked.
‘I can’t see it changing any time soon to be honest. He’s too middle-aged and Tansy is too much of a teenager; not an ideal combination for harmony.’
‘But she still likes to spend time at your house?’
‘It’s either that or her own…’ Erica shrugged. ‘Now’s not the time to go into that.’
Cathy knew when a conversation was done with, so she moved on. Erica kept on putting this information off; every time Cathy got close to hearing it her friend moved the conversation on. She knew she’d hear it sooner or later, but couldn’t help feeling sooner might be more useful because she was beginning to worry that later might lead to her putting her foot in it.
As everyone cleaned down the counters, Cathy took great care to check all the equipment before they went. As Erica had handed in the missing blender with another sheepish apology earlier, it meant everything was accounted for and Cathy allowed herself to relax. She hadn’t worried unduly about the blender incident, but she had been a little nervous that if things like that kept going wrong she’d be told she could no longer use the kitchen at St Cuthbert’s for the cookery club. She was beginning to look forward to their weekly meet-ups so much that she’d miss them terribly if they had to come to an end.
She’d just finished counting everything when two of the youngest members of the club, twenty-something Beth and her sister Alicia, came over. Beth held out a sheet of lined paper with spidery writing on it.
‘We only managed to get this last night,’ she said. ‘It’s our great-grandma’s recipe for barmbrack. We had to go and visit her in the old people’s home so she could write it down for us.’
Cathy read down the list. ‘I’ve never made this before.’
‘It’s Irish,’ Alicia said. ‘You don’t see it in shops. We had a go at it last night, actually, after we got back from the home. I thought it was disgusting but Mum started to cry when she tasted it because she said she remembered our great-grandma making it for her when she was young and it tasted just the same, so I’m guessing that means it was like it ought to be.’
‘We thought… maybe you might want it for your book?’ Beth said. ‘It’s not exactly a Christmas recipe but people used to eat it in the winter apparently.’
‘They don’t have to be Christmas recipes,’ Cathy said, ‘although that is a good idea! This looks lovely – I can’t wait to have a go. Quite simple ingredients too – they’re often the best ones.’
‘So it could go in?’ Beth asked.
‘Oh, definitely,’ Cathy said.
Beth and Alicia both beamed at her. ‘Great-Grandma will be really pleased when we tell her.’
‘I’m really glad you brought it in. Can I keep hold of this sheet?’
‘Yes,’ Alicia said. ‘We can have a copy when you put the book together, can’t we? With all the other recipes?’
‘That’s what I was planning to do,’ Cathy said. She looked at Alicia. ‘How have you found today?’
‘Oh, I loved it,’ she replied. ‘I’m definitely coming again next week if I can get the day off work. I work as a waitress and I usually get my hours about a week ahead so I’ll know better tomorrow. But if I’m not on the rota I’ll definitely come.’