‘They’re gorgeous!’ Ashley cooed. ‘How did you manage those teeny flowers?’
‘It took me a few goes.’ He shrugged.
I could imagine the mounds of rejected cupcakes Jamie had been living on for the past month.
He offered them round, and we all spent the next few minutes ooh-ing and mmm-ing at how light and delicious they were.
‘You should sell these,’ I said to Sarah, who was currently licking the icing off her fingers.
‘Too right.’ She groaned in delight. Jamie pulled at his T-shirt as though the collar was suddenly way too tight. ‘But there are food hygiene laws and stuff. You have to register your premises and get them inspected and all that.’
‘Jamie could make them here,’ Ellen said.
‘I hardly think Jamie wants to be confronted with my first-thing-in-the-morning face and make cakes when he’s got his own massively successful business to run.’
‘I wouldn’t mind,’ he said, eyes flicking over to Sarah and back. ‘That is, of course, if you like them. I mean, we could try it, see how it goes.’
Please say yes!Everyone else beamed telepathic messages over to Sarah’s side of the table.
She shook her head in befuddlement. ‘You’re like Batman. Why would you want to dothis?’
We all held our breaths, waiting for Jamie to tell Sarah even a hint of the reason why he wanted to bake cakes at the crack of dawn in her cramped café.
‘It makes a nice change,’ he said to a blob on the tablecloth. ‘And I’ve been considering a new career. One that doesn’t involve smashing people’s heads against concrete pillars or wriggling through drainage pipes with a ferret’s teeth embedded in my ankle-bone.’
‘Oh, go on, then.’ Sarah took a huge bite out of another cake. ‘Come along next time you’re free and we’ll give it a go.’
Ashley’s challenge was to get Hillary West along to the book club. This was greeted with a barrage of groans, but she dug her heels in. ‘I’m not writing to her publishers any more. I’m going to find out where she lives and go straight to the woman herself! That will involve all manner of new skills, and you can’t say it isn’t a challenge.’
‘Okay,’ Ellen agreed. ‘If you can come up with some adventures along the way, we’ll allow it for now.’
My turn. I took a big gulp of water and sat up straighter. ‘My challenge is finding out about my family. As you know, a few weeks ago I moved into my grandmother’s cottage. What I haven’t told you is that I never met her. I know nothing about her or my grandfather. And I don’t know why. It’s weird to live in a place where strangers know more about my own family than I do. But for today, I’ll start by telling you why even moving here has been a challenge. And, believe me, just talking about this is a challenge in itself.’
I told them that I’d left my job suddenly, but not why. About my sister’s extravagant living arrangements – the luxury apartment and the housekeeper, Claudia. The thousand-pound shoes she’d passed on to me. The super-expensive restaurants Richard had taken me to. The relentless and mindless waste.
And that I’d gladly left with one suitcase and a rucksack, and less than a hundred pounds in cash.
I described my first night sleeping in the car, and those that had followed in the bath. I didn’t think people knew whether to laugh or feel horrified as I talked about the bugs, the smell, the dirt, the Hoard. Washing clothes by hand and living off cold food that I had no way to keep cold. I told them about Mannequin Diana and the squillions of mice I’d called the Borrowers.
That the only thing tethering me to earth seemed to be the cottage. The hope that I had a past, a family, apoint. And my dreams of making the cottage into a home again, and finally achieving something.
‘You have a home here, Jenny,’ Ellen said. Her voice was strong but her eyes were brimming. ‘Home is more than four walls.’
‘I know that.’ I nodded. ‘And you make me feel at home in a way my parents and sister never did. But if I left next month, you wouldn’t miss me, not really.’
She opened her mouth to protest, but I carried on. ‘I’m honestly not looking for sympathy. I’m just explaining that my challenge was to, well, find a home. But it’s changed. It’s now tomakea home. To make the most of where I’ve ended up, even with all the mess and the broken stuff and the questions and the mistakes. To make a story of my life I can be proud of. It’s tough, but it’s making me stronger. And I’ve never, not once, felt strong before. So, I’m enjoying it. I’m glad to be here. Glad I got fired for punching my sister in the face.’
‘You did WHAT?’ Ashley squealed.
‘That’s another month’s chapter.’ I rolled my eyes in a devil-may-care manner. ‘Who’s next?’
Frances was next.
Oh, my goodness.
She was also last.
How could Kiko possibly talk about her dreams of mountain-climbing and Ellen tell us funny stories about her midwifery course after that?
