Seth frowned, his face in thought. ‘Yes. I remember when we were eating oat pancakes and they made me gag and Mom and Dad were fighting. Now I can’t eat oat pancakes.’
The table was silent.
‘Okay, that went south,’ muttered Marc but Seth was still thinking.
‘I also think I will always remember the hamburger you made the first night you came here.’
‘Oh? Really?’ she asked, thankful they had moved on to happy food memories. ‘Why is that?’
‘Because Dad ate with us,’ said Seth, smiling happily at Marc.
Marc grimaced in shame and he pulled Seth to him. ‘I will always eat with you, buddy, especially Christa’s hamburgers and chips.’
Ethan put his arm around Marc’s neck. ‘What are the other ones?’ he asked.
Christa pointed to a yellow plate with little bees on it. ‘These are honey and orange. And these—’ she showed them a white plate with pink madeleines on top with icing sugar scattered across the plate ‘—are strawberry and lemonade flavoured. These are my favourite; I have a terrible sweet tooth.’
‘Which one?’ asked Ethan.
‘Pardon?’
‘Which tooth is sweet?’
Christa laughed. ‘All of them.’
Peggy poured tea and Christa made coffees with the machine and soon they were sitting around the table, sharing cakes and chatting.
Perhaps this would be her madeleine memory, she thought, as she watched the way Marc moved the hair out of Seth’s eyes while they were talking. It was a small gesture but so tender that Christa had to look away, moved by the intimacy between parent and child.
Sometimes she wondered what it would be like to love a child the way her father had loved her. Because even when he was unwell, she knew he loved her.
‘It’s nice to have you at the table, Peggy,’ said Marc and Christa knew he meant it.
Peggy preened under his attention. ‘I know I can come off a bit prickly at times but I mean well and I am thankful for you keeping me on here, Mr Ferrier.’
Marc sighed and shook his head. ‘You’re never going to call me Marc, are you?’
Peggy shook her head gravely. ‘There will be a snowstorm in Tahiti before that happens, Mr Ferrier. I am very traditional and I like things the way I like them. I have never addressed any of my employers any other way than simply as it should be.’
After morning tea, Christa set about making the soup for lunch and cutting the bread while Peggy peeled the potatoes for the shepherd’s pie. The two worked in synchronicity, not getting in each other’s way, and Christa was grateful for the company in the kitchen.
There was some robust discussion about putting garlic into the pie until Christa told her Gordon Ramsay always put garlic into his pie, which convinced Peggy.
Not that Christa minded terribly. Peggy was so old-fashioned that Christa knew she thought only men should be chefs, which is why she called Christa a cook instead – apart from her brief concession earlier. It wasn’t a hill Christa was prepared to die on; after all she would be gone soon and Peggy would have the kitchen and the rest of Pudding Hall back to herself again.
Christa’s Madeleine Recipe
Ingredients
2 free-range eggs
100g/3½oz caster sugar
100g/3½oz plain flour, plus extra for dusting
1 lemon, juice and zest
¾ tsp baking powder
