Wish Upon a Star (22 page)

I was quite right, too, and I wrote the recipe up for ‘Tea & Cake’.

Parmesan crisps make a sophisticated snack or first course with a dip, and are very simple to make. Line an oven tray with baking paper and then thinly sprinkle grated Parmesan cheese into roughly circular shapes, well spaced. Bake in a low oven for just a few minutes, until the gratings have joined together into a lattice, then remove and leave to cool and go crispy. While they are still warm, you can also curl them round the handle of a wooden spoon into a cigar shape, just like brandy snaps.

Florrie Snowball had suggested at the fundraising meeting that her daughter, Jenny, should come to America with us, since she was not only a retired district nurse, but her son and his family lived near Boston. I’d had no idea what Jenny herself might have made of this offer, but right after lunch she popped in to introduce herself and seemed perfectly amenable to the idea.

‘Kevin lives out towards Salem, but it’s the same airport for Boston – Logan International. I visit them at least twice a year, so I can just as easily go when you need me, in late October,’ she said and didn’t even want me to pay for her ticket, though I insisted on it.

‘I’ll get Will, my friend’s husband, on to organising the extra ticket; he’s doing all the bookings on the internet,’ I said. ‘He says we need to fly in better seats than tourist class, too, so Stella will be more comfortable.’

‘Oh, luxury!’ she said enthusiastically. ‘If you give me the date we fly out, I’ll arrange my other little jobs around it. I do some home nursing, baby-sitting, granny and granddad minding, that kind of thing, but I’ve a friend who covers for me when I’m away.’

She was a comfortable, competent-looking woman and I knew I’d feel happier for having her with us. More to the point, Stella got on really well with her and I immediately asked Jenny if I could call on her for baby-sitting occasionally too.

‘I don’t like to ask my mother all the time, because she has her work to do,’ I explained.

‘Of course! And it will give Stella and me a good chance to get to know each other properly, won’t it, poppet?’

Stella, who’d been fetching relays of little fuzzy creatures from her bedroom and filling Jenny’s ample lap with them, nodded seriously.

‘Jenny’s going to come in the big plane to America with us,’ I told her.

Stella turned her huge blue eyes onto Jenny and said, ‘Mummy says I can only take two of my families with me. Which ones do you think it should be?’

I left them discussing this crucial decision while I made coffee and sliced some Battenburg cake I’d made so early this morning (because I hadn’t been able to sleep properly, worrying that Jago was blaming me for losing the shop), that the sky had still been darkest indigo set with a flashy great silver nugget of moon.

Over the coffee I told Jenny where we’d booked to stay in Boston, in the Longwood Medical Area, right near the hospital where Stella would be treated.

‘It’s one of those big chain budget hotels so you know what you’re getting – comfort but not luxury,’ she agreed. ‘It sounds like your best option and then I expect Stella will have to convalesce before she can fly home, so you might want to move to a more central hotel later. I’ll ask our Kevin where would be best.’

‘Yes, I wondered about that, but it’ll have to be economical, because there are more and more costs cropping up all the time.’

‘I wouldn’t worry, we’re all going to raise a lot more than the ten thousand pounds anyway,’ she said comfortably, helping herself to another slice of cake.

‘Boston’s a great city, with lots to do, and once Stella’s well enough you’ll want to see the sights. When Mum came out with me a few years ago she loved the Salem witch trail near our Kevin’s; she couldn’t get enough of it.’

I thought there were probably more suitable diversions for a convalescing four-year-old, even one as bright as Stella, but I didn’t say so. Stella was flagging now and ready for her nap, so Jenny helped carry all the fuzzy creatures back into her bedroom, saw her settled and promised to see her again soon.

I wrapped up the last chunk of Battenburg cake for Florrie, since Jenny’d said earlier that it was her mother’s favourite and this was the best she’d ever tasted, so she could drop it in at the Falling Star on her way home.

While I was clearing up the cups and plates I finally had a phone call from Jago, who said he was sorry he hadn’t been in touch earlier, but he’d been really busy.

Then he added mysteriously that if we could have a coffee together at the Blue Dog tomorrow he’d talk it through with me. For a moment I wondered if he might be about to tell me he was moving back to London with Abominable Aimee, until he added, ‘And thank you for writing to Miss Honey. I think that might just do the trick.’

So perhaps he wasn’t going anywhere and I felt a little better, even though I wasn’t entirely sure he was right about Miss Honey.

We had a hospital visit first next morning and they were quite pleased with Stella, though when I said that she seemed to get tired more and more easily, they said that was only to be expected …

But
I
don’t expect it: in my heart what
I’m
expecting is a miraculous overnight recovery.

Then they stressed that I should avoid exposing her to any infections before she left for America in the autumn, as if I wasn’t neurotic enough on the subject already! And come to think of it, most of the people with serious infections were probably the ones milling round inside the hospital with us on Thursdays.

Afterwards I pushed her buggy through the open market in Ormskirk and we got one or two bits of shopping, before finally heading for the Happy Macaroon. A woman I assumed was David’s mother was serving behind the counter, while he was setting out freshly baked pink and green macaroons. Stella climbed out of the buggy and went to stare fixedly at Dorrie through the glass display cabinet, though I wasn’t sure what was so fascinating about her, unless it was the unusual aubergine shade of her short, permed hair.

‘Hi! Jago’s in the back, I’ll give him a shout,’ David said, looking up and spotting me. Then coming closer and lowering his voice conspiratorially, he added, ‘Aimee’s been ringing him all the time, but I’ve deleted most of her messages. I finally picked up this morning, though, and told her exactly how little he won on the lottery, because she probably didn’t believe Jago and thinks he’s a millionaire.’

‘Oh? What did she say?’ I whispered back, fascinated.

‘I don’t think she really believed
me
either, because she knows I don’t like her. But now she’s looking about twice her age she’s probably feeling a bit desperate, so she’ll try and grab him anyway.’

‘You’re wicked, you are, and that’s not very flattering to Jago, love,’ his mother commented, having finished serving her customers and now unashamedly listening in. ‘He’s a lovely lad and deserves better.’

‘This is my mother, Dorrie,’ David introduced her. ‘Dorrie – Cally Weston.’

‘I’ve heard all about you and the kiddie,’ she said.

‘Did Jago tell you about Miss Honey taking against me and throwing us both out?’ I asked, and David nodded.

‘But he thought she’d come round and—’ He broke off as the door to the bakery opened. ‘Here he is. He’ll tell you all about it himself in the Blue Dog.’

Stella abandoned her study of Dorrie the minute she saw Jago and ran across to him. Grinning, he swung her off her feet and then carried her up the stairs to the café next door, where she chatted away to him non-stop until she suddenly spotted her three elderly lady friends at a far table. They waved at her and she got down and went over to visit. I hoped they were braced for it.

‘I’m so sorry about spoiling things with Miss Honey,’ I apologised. ‘I wrote to her straight away, but I don’t know if that’ll make any difference.’

‘It already has, I think, because she had someone at Pinker’s End ring the estate agent first thing this morning, to pass on a message.’

‘Really?’

‘She said she’d thought things over and she’d like to see us again.’

‘
Us
?’ I repeated, startled. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes, quite sure. Her message actually says “you both”.’

‘Well, I hoped she’d relent and let you buy Honey’s when she’d read my letter, but I can’t see why she wants to see
me
again, especially now I’ve found out from Ma why she hates the Almond family.’

I told him what Ma had said about my wicked great-uncle (or great-cousin, or whatever he was) Esau. ‘It was very cruel of him to let his family and his fiancée think he was dead, wasn’t it? I wonder what got into him.’

‘Some people do just vanish and start again, and who knows what kind of war he’d had? Didn’t you say he’d been evacuated from Dunkirk and then been sent back for the D-Day landings?’

‘Yes, you’re right, he might well have been so traumatised by that that he just wanted to get away and make a new start, and when the opportunity arose, seized it.’

‘I suppose he can’t have been that keen on his fiancée, though,’ Jago said. ‘So you can understand why Miss Honey was upset. Seeing you must have brought it all back.’

‘Yes – so I really don’t know why she wants to see me again. I explained in the letter that your business would be nothing to do with me and even promised never to set foot over the threshold if she sold it to you, though actually it would be hard to resist the temptation. Just as well I didn’t tell her I’ve already been there.’

‘I’d hate to think if I bought Honey’s that you’d never visit me,’ Jago said seriously, just as I was lifting Stella, who’d returned, back onto her chair.

‘Where are you going?’ Stella asked worriedly, catching the end of this.

‘Jago hopes to come and live near Grandma’s house soon, Stella,’ I explained. ‘That would be lovely, wouldn’t it?’

‘Can we come and live with you then, Daddy-Jago?’ she asked, in her high, clear voice.

‘Now, Stella, you know Jago isn’t your daddy,’ I said, feeling myself blushing.

‘He
is
Daddy-Jago,’ she insisted, sticking out her bottom lip, a bit like Ma when she was determined on some course of action.

Jago laughed. ‘I don’t mind being Daddy-Jago.’

‘Good, because my other daddy is a penguin and he lives at the North Pole,’ she told him seriously. ‘
He
doesn’t count.’

Jago and I exchanged looks.

‘So, Miss Honey definitely wants us both to see her again: did she say when?’ I asked.

‘Yes, the royal summons is for Saturday afternoon –
this
Saturday. I can do it, because Sarah will be up for the weekend, and now Dorrie’s working full time in the shop they can manage perfectly well without me. But I hate to ask you if you could come with me again at such short notice.’

‘I’ll see what I can do, but I should be able to make it, because on Saturdays Hal is around and will help keep an eye on Stella. Miss Honey probably just wants me to swear a solemn oath that I really won’t ever cross the Honey threshold,’ I suggested. ‘You’d better sweeten her up by taking her some iced buns, since she said those were her favourite, and I’ll make her a rich fruitcake.’

‘Good thinking.’

‘Actually, I’ve got an alternative baby-sitter now, too,’ I said, and told him about Jenny’s visit.

‘That couldn’t be better, could it?’ he said. ‘I remember Florrie suggesting that her daughter went with you to America.’

‘You liked Jenny, didn’t you?’ I asked Stella, and she nodded.

‘She said she loves to read stories and when I showed her all my families she was mazed. She said so.’

‘I don’t think she’d ever seen them before, and you do have an awful lot.’

‘She’s coming on the plane to America with us,’ Stella confided. ‘She says you can sleep on it, and when you wake up, you’re there. Then I’ll have another little sleep in the hospital while they mend my heart, so when I come back, I’ll be just like new.’

‘Sounds good to me,’ Jago said. ‘And by the time you do come home it’ll be nearly Christmas, won’t it? You’ll have to write your list for Santa early, so he can be getting on with it.’

‘I need a hotel, a campervan, a greenhouse, a little boat …’ she began.

‘Sylvanian ones?’ he guessed, and she nodded.

‘And a pink castle.’

‘Santa’s probably got sacks full of those,’ Jago said, straight-faced.

‘My birthday’s first, isn’t it, Mummy?’ Stella said. ‘I’ll get presents from you and Grandma and Auntie Celia and Uncle Will.’

‘She’s four at the end of July,’ I told Jago. ‘Perhaps you should wait and see what you get for your birthday, Stella, before you send Santa your list.’

‘That seems like a good plan to me,’ Jago said.

‘Mummy will make me a pink princess cake again for my birthday: that’s my favourite,’ Stella said.

‘I have to make and deliver a croquembouche wedding cake on Saturday, but early and it’s a local venue, so I’ll pick you up afterwards, Cally.’

‘I’d like to watch you create a croquembouche one day, so I can describe it in my “Cake Diaries” page.’

‘You’d be welcome to watch, though you’ve probably made choux buns often enough yourself.’

‘Yes, it’s the putting together bit that really interests me. But not on Saturday, since I’m already going out with you later in the day. I expect that once Miss Honey’s satisfied herself that we really are only friends, I’ll have to go and wait in the car while you persuade her to sell you the place – and at a reasonable price, so you can afford to do it up. How are you going to do that? Any master plan?’

‘Yes, actually,’ he said to my surprise. ‘I spent yesterday working on it out at Hemlock Mill.’

‘
Hemlock Mill
?’ I echoed.

‘Yes, I suddenly remembered that when we looked round the mill manager’s house they were appealing for donations of Victorian furniture and furnishings, so I thought they might like the heavy pieces from Miss Honey’s house. I rang up the manager and ran the idea past him and he invited me up to discuss it.’

‘Aren’t you jumping the gun a bit?’ I suggested. ‘It isn’t yours yet to dispose of!’

‘I’m just sounding things out –
and
there’s more. Honey’s shop is full of stock, it’s a time capsule of old haberdashery, so I thought it might be just what they were looking for when they start to recreate a couple of old shops in the courtyard behind the house.’