Caramel Hearts (16 page)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Did I Say Something Funny?

“I was thinking… if you want to make it up with Jack…” Sarah rolls onto her side and leans her head on her hand.

“There's not much to make up, is there? We hardly know each other,” I say.

“So? You want to talk to him again, right?”

“Yeah. Of course – he stuck up for me.”

“I bet that's not the only reason – but anyway, I've got the perfect plan… Why don't you impress him with your cooking?” Sarah dips her hand into the airtight container and pulls out a huge piece of fudge. She chews loudly, smacking her lips. “He won't be able to resist.”

“What? That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard! It's going to take more than sweets to impress someone like him.”

“
Like him
? He's not a god, you know! And it's not a stupid idea. Think about it. They say that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach.”

“That's nonsense. Who's ‘they', anyway?”

Sarah shrugs, raises an eyebrow and chomps on the fudge. “My mum, for one. She says that Dad doesn't communicate with words – he uses his belly instead.”

I have to smile. Her dad's always the first to sit at the table and he clears the leftovers from everyone
else's plates. He even sneaks your food while you're still eating if you don't keep an eye out, and he's as thin as a whippet.

“For your information, I don't
want
to get to Jack's heart,” I say.

I don't know how I expect to convince Sarah when I'm not convinced myself.

“So, if he tried to kiss you, you'd tell him to get lost.”

Her question almost winds me.

“Yes. I'd tell him to get lost.”

“Liar.”

“I'm not in the same league, Sarah. This isn't a fairytale.”

We both laugh awkwardly.

“So, what
do
you want?” asks Sarah.

“I dunno… friendship. To thank him for helping me.”

My heart pounds so loudly, I'm worried Sarah might hear it. Friendship would be OK, but it would be nice if Jack were something more. The way he leaned in… Then I think about my straying tongue, and dismiss the idea instantly. Until I get that thing under control, there's no way I'm kissing anyone.

“Hmm. Just good friends,” says Sarah, in a loved-up voice.

“Stop it!” I plead.

Sarah stops, but not for long. After a millisecond, she starts up again.

“Seriously, though. It could work. Think about it: you need to distract the class from Maddy's nonsense – she thinks she's a big deal since everyone found out she attacked you – and you need to patch things up with Jack. You could do it in one go by baking. Something for everyone to share.”

“But I'm not good enough… what if no one likes it? That'd make things even worse.”

“How could it make things worse? Liv, you're brilliant. Taste this and tell me it's not divine.”

I roll some fudge around my mouth. I have to admit, it's good. Better than the pre-packaged stuff you buy. My fudge is creamy and melt-in-the-mouth.

“You honestly think it would work?”

“Yep.”

“I can't just bring in a bag of goodies and expect everyone to dive in. Mad Dog's got them wrapped around her finger.”

“Bring it on a Monday morning,” suggests Sarah. “Mrs Pearl always asks if there's anything we'd like to share about our weekend. She's all hippy like that—”

“I want you all to have a voice, feel like you're equals—” I mimic.

“Exactly! It's fool-proof.”

“I dunno…”

“You'll win Jack over.”

Sarah grins, knowing she has me hooked.

“I guess it's not such a bad idea…” I say.

“It's a great idea.”

“But what should I bake?”

“Something Jack likes. Find out his favourite.”

“How do I do that when he's not talking to me – and the whole class thinks I'm a leper?”

“That's a problem. Maybe we could ask Maddy?” Sarah offers with a roguish expression.

“That's not even funny,” I say.

“Sorry… maybe I could find out?”

“How? What are you gonna do – march up to Jack and ask him? You've hardly spoken two words to him outside of lessons!”

“No, but I have an inside weapon: Dad.”

I almost spit out my fudge. “What's your dad got to do with this?”

“He knows Jack's mum. They're on the Neighbourhood Watch committee together.”

“Don't you dare! The last thing I want is your parents knowing about this!”

“They don't have to know why. I could tell Dad I need to know for a project and that I'm too embarrassed to ask. He's a soft touch.” She lowers her voice to a whisper. “He's been looking after Mum since for ever, don't forget. He'll find out – no questions asked. Then all you have to do is make it and bring it in.”

I lean back, popping another piece of fudge in my mouth.

“Fine,” I say. “I'm in.”

“You are? Liv, this is going to work, I promise you!”

We squeal and hug, not noticing Mrs Butler's arrival.

“What are you two all excited about?” she asks.

“Nothing,” we reply in unison, then fall about giggling. Mrs Butler shakes her head and smiles.

“It doesn't look like nothing to me.”

Mr Butler sticks his head round the door. “What's the commotion?” Before anyone can reply, he notices the container on the floor. “Ooh, fudge – don't mind if I do!” he says, taking the biggest chunk and shoving it in his mouth.

This time, we collapse. I hold my stomach, which hurts so much from laughing. Sarah whispers, “I think I'm going to pee myself,” and that makes us worse.

Mr Butler stares at us, reduced to a puddle of giggles on the floor.

“Did I say something funny?” he asks.

Chapter Thirty

A Glimpse of How Things Used to Be

It's a week since I had the fight with Jack. We're completely avoiding each other and I can't think of anything other than how great it would be if Sarah's plan worked – especially the “more than friends” bit. I've decided to concentrate all my energy on our plan – I need to pull out all the stops to put things right. So the last thing I want to do is visit Mam, but we have no choice.

“She probably won't even turn up,” I say, as we sit at the back of the bus. I tuck my legs up against the seat in front of me, knowing it will wind Hatty up.

“Liv, you can't say that.”

“I just did. It's true, isn't it?”

“You can't think that way. We've got to treat it like a new opportunity every time. Anyway, she'll love the fudge you've brought her.”

“The fudge she won't get because she won't turn up.”

Harriet lets the matter drop. She knows something's up and would probably listen if I opened up to her, but every time I decide to try and be nice, her words play over and over in my head: “
I'm sick of everything. And everyone. I wish it'd all just go away
.”

The journey seems to take much longer than usual. The bus stops in every town and village and it's difficult not
to lose my rag. I keep quiet so I don't take things out on my sister. After a while, Harriet gives me a nudge.

“The only way Mam will get better is if we give her the support she needs,” she says.

I nod, though I'm not sure how I can help Mam when I can't even help myself. To avoid any further conversation, I turn to the window and check out my reflection. I'm getting used to my hair, and I actually quite like it. My black eyeliner makes me look older, but I'm still plain and boring. Why I ever imagined Jack might be interested in kissing me, I don't know.

To try and take my mind off things, I watch the world flash by. There's nothing better than laughing at other people when you're fed up with yourself. I see a lady in red, spiky heels wobbling along the pavement. Then, a round, red-faced man jogging clumsily, clutching his chest like he's having a heart attack. I chuckle as a small, curly-haired girl trips and bawls – until her dad scoops her up, hugging her close and whispering in her ear. So much for laughing. I can't take my eyes off them as he dusts her down and dries her tears. My hand splayed against the glass, I watch as they grow smaller, fading into the distance until they're invisible. Then I sit back and close my eyes.

When we finally arrive at Ashgrove House, my feet feel leaden as I climb the steps. It was much more fun sneaking around at night. It takes every morsel of energy and courage to keep going. My instincts scream at me to turn round, but one glance at Harriet's determined face forces me through the door.

As we walk up to Reception, Harriet adopts her best smile, and I do the same. Wearing our masks, we sign in and turn towards the waiting room. But before we can
sit down, Mam arrives, smiling and bright skinned. Her eyes sparkle golden-green and her greying hair is freshly washed, swishing in waves around her shoulders. I run my fingers through my own hair nervously.

“Oh no – you cut your beautiful hair!” cries Mam, before hugging each of us in turn.

I glance at Harriet. Doesn't Mam remember seeing my hair – does she even remember running away? Harriet looks just as confused, but Mam doesn't seem to notice.

“But why so sad?” continues Mam. “I love it! Don't ruin that cute face with a frown. C'mon, I've reserved the table tennis.”

I can't help smiling. To think I was considering turning back. Harriet links Mam's arm and I grab the other. We trot down the corridor.

“Liv's brought something for you,” says Harriet, winking behind Mam's back.

“A surprise? You know how much I love surprises!”

The ping-pong table stands in the sunniest spot in the games room. Before we start playing, I hand over the slabs of fudge. As she peers in, Mam gives a squeal of delight.

“Is this what I think it is?”

“Peanut-butter fudge,” offers Harriet, before I get a chance.

Trying not to sulk about it, I worry I haven't brought enough. I shouldn't have shared it with the Butlers. Why does everything have to be so complicated? Why isn't there a recipe for how to do the right thing?

“It's years since I've had this!” says Mam, taking a small nibble and chewing slowly. “It's divine – thank you. This calls for a proper celebration. Go get us some drinks from the canteen. Three cream sodas, like old
times!” She fishes in her pocket and hands me a five-pound note.

“I'd prefer a Diet Coke,” says Harriet.

I hold my breath. Has Hatty gone mad? She should know better than to challenge Mam. But Mam raises an eyebrow, says something about Hatty not needing “diet” anything, then changes the order.

“Make that two cream sodas and a Diet Coke,” she says. “And ask to borrow a knife so we can cut this up equally. We'll mind the table!”

I race towards the canteen as fast as I can. My echoing footsteps remind me of running away from the kitchen that day, and no matter how fast I move, I can't outrun the guilt.

As I round the corner into the canteen, a pained screech sounds from somewhere down the corridor, followed by a loud clatter. Like something being thrown at the wall. I quickly select the drinks and rush to the counter to pay. The tall, spindly lady behind the till smiles gently.

“Don't let the noise frighten you,” she says. “It's all part of the healing process.”

What does she know? She's just a crappy canteen assistant.

“Are you visiting someone special?”

I shrug, wishing the woman would hurry up and hand over the change. I want to get back to Mam as quickly as possible. The lady smiles sympathetically.

“Have a lovely visit,” she says, finally handing over some coins.

I feel a violent rush of shame sweep through me. How could anyone enjoy a visit here? It's a place for losers and
degenerates. Everyone knows that. Turning, I stop in my tracks, my heart flipping like an acrobat.

Maddy is wiping splatters of dark red sauce from her yellow T-shirt, her blond hair falling into her face as she bends over, trying to clean herself up. I guess her mam must have lost the plot again.

“Are you all right, dear?” the woman behind the counter asks.

Before I can sneak away, Mad Dog looks up. It looks like she's been crying. Tears line her cheeks in tiny streams, mixing with her foundation and powder. And her mascara is smudged across her face. If she weren't so scary, I'd tell her.

It takes a moment for Maddy to recognize me. When she does, her eyes darken and her lips curl.

“What are you looking at, ginger pig? You might think you're great wearing makeup but you're still ugly.”

The lady behind the counter tuts and mumbles something under her breath. Maddy shoots her an evil look. Saying nothing, I put my head down and rush past as quickly as I can. As soon as I turn the corner, I run, trying not to shake the cans too much. When I get back to the games room, Mam and Harriet are leaning on the table, deep in conversation. I hand the drinks over, my heart thumping.

“What's up?” I ask.

“Harriet was just telling me about your cooking… Liv, I'm so proud of you!”

Mam pulls me close and I melt into the hug.

“Are you OK?” mouths Harriet, draining her can. She motions with her hand that my face looks weird. I touch my left ear – something I haven't done in years, and Hatty snorts Diet Coke out of her nose.

“Now where's that knife?” asks Mam, letting go.

“Oh. I forgot it.” I look nervously towards the door.

“I don't want fudge anyway, Mam,” says Harriet quickly, still trying to dry her face with the back of her hand.

“Me neither,” I say.

“You're just being kind,” smiles Mam. “But losers, weepers, and all that!” She bites off a huge chunk and gobbles it down.

We all chuckle and my heart swells with pride. Mam is proud of me.

“This brings back so many memories,” says Mam, a faraway look in her eyes.

“Like what?” I ask, almost too quickly.

“Old dreams. Silly old dreams that once seemed so real. Summery picnics, chips on the beach – do you remember that trip to Whitby?”

“The one where we jumped waves?”

“And our noses got all red from the wind?” adds Harriet.

“That's the one! Those were the days. This takes me back – thanks, Liv.”

I puff myself up, tall and confident, feeling like I've grown an inch or two.

“It's nothing,” I say

“Nothing?” says Mam, shoving another chunk into her mouth. “It's amazing. It's just like…”

As Mam pauses, I exchange a nervous glance with my sister.

“Go on,” urges Harriet.

Mam's eyes mist over.

“I was going to say, it reminds me of one I used to make. I wanted to open a café once, you know? With my friend, Rosa – remember her, Hatty? We were going to bake all our own cakes and serve tea in mismatched china cups.”

“You still could,” I say.

“I had all my own recipes – there was one for peanut-butter fudge, just like this.”

I gesture with my eyes that we should tell Mam about the cookbook, but Harriet shakes her head.

“Are you two OK?” asks Mam, eyeing us suspiciously.

“We're fine,” says Harriet.

“What happened? To the café idea?” I ask.

Mum's eyes cloud over and shadows pass over her face. I ignore the “you've-done-it-now” look from Harriet, and wait.

“It was just make-believe. Let's have a game. Shall we play Round Robin? You two go first and I'll play the winner.”

I open my mouth to ask Mam more questions, but Harriet nudges me to be quiet. I get it – admitting about the recipe book means admitting I went through Mam's private belongings. And asking too many questions only dredges up the past – including Dad's affair. Harriet wants to preserve Mam's good mood, just as much as I do.

“Deal,” we shout in unison, picking up our bats.

Mum watches as we battle it out over the net.

“Yay! I win!” I shout, as I score the match point.

“Looks like you're on, Mam,” says Harriet, offering the bat.

I watch Mam position herself in the sun, bat poised and her thumb raised, signalling she's ready. There's a huge grin on her face and I notice the sparkle has returned to Harriet's eyes too. It's a glimpse of how things used to be – how they could be again. I feel my own mouth stretch wide, turning into a smile big enough to swallow up the entire beautiful scene.

Rocky Road

Because life isn't always straightforward, you need a few treats to remind you that there's still goodness in the world. Make when you're worried, give with love and enjoy with a happy heart.

INGREDIENTS

400 g/14¼ oz milk chocolate chunks

8 bars of chocolate-covered Turkish Delight I large packet of big, fluffy marshmallows (pink and white)

100 g/3½ oz blanched almonds

HOW TO MAKE THE MAGIC HAPPEN

1. Grab a loaf tin and line with cling film, letting a bit hang over the top all the way around.

2. Chop the Turkish Delight into eight pieces per bar. Smash up the almonds and use scissors to cut the marshmallows into chunky pieces.

3. Melt the chocolate in a bowl over a saucepan of simmering water, stirring all the time to prevent burning (this will keep it heavenly). When melted and velvety smooth, add all the yummy bits.

4. Stir well to make the chunky delights spread evenly. Transfer it all to a loaf tin and smooth with a spatula.

5. Cover with cling film and put in the fridge for at least 4 hours, or until it has set. Cut into slices (be careful – a heavy knife is best) and serve. Don't forget to eat some yourself to make that heart happy, and watch your troubles melt away with every bite.