Christmas Wishes at Pudding Hall by Kate Forster

10

‘Happy birthday dear Adam, happy birthday to you.’

The song finished and Adam blew out the candles on the cake Christa had made. It was a twelve-layer chocolate cake with honeycomb and toffee shards on top and Chantilly cream on the side.

‘This is incredible,’ said Paul as Christa cut the cake and carefully placed it onto a plate.

‘You should be a baker,’ said Seth as he eyed the slice of cake she had handed to Adam.

‘You think? I will look into that – thanks for the idea,’ she said, laughing, but Seth looked at her with such confusion she felt bad for teasing him.

‘I am a pastry chef actually,’ she said to him. ‘Pastry chefs make all the desserts in restaurants and people love desserts.’

‘I love them the most,’ said Ethan shoving a bite of cake into his mouth.

‘That’s not true, I love them more,’ said Seth, putting a bigger bite of cake into his mouth.

‘Okay, stop the competitive dessert discussion please,’ said Marc. ‘Who wants coffee or tea?’

Christa moved towards the kitchen to take over but Marc put his hand on her arm.

‘Sit. You just made an amazing dinner and this cake; let me make you some decaf tea.’

Christa was unsure what to do but Marc gently pushed her in the direction of the table.

‘Okay, boss,’ she said and went to sit at the table.

Once everyone had cake, and Marc had made coffee and tea for the table and glasses of milk for the boys they sat in the kitchen.

Peggy had given up trying to make them sit in the dining room but she hadn’t stopped being rude to Christa, including telling her that the food she cooked was not good for people’s health and that the boys needed to stay out the kitchen and stop skating in the house.

Christa had ignored her and asked the boys to come and help with the cake.

They did and they enjoyed it, especially making the toffee and using the sugar thermometer.

‘It’s like science class but fun,’ said Ethan.

‘When do you go back to school?’ asked Christa. ‘Aren’t you missing out on lots?’

Seth shrugged. ‘School schmool. School is for suckers.’

‘Who told you that?’ asked Christa surprised.

‘Joe Pesci,’ said Ethan.

‘You know Joe Pesci?’

‘No, he was in a movie we watched last night – My Cousin Vinny,’ said Seth.

Christa was totally confused but let it go. It wasn’t her business why the boys weren’t at school and Marc didn’t seem to be worrying about it at all.

Now Christa sat next to Marc at the table, and she felt acutely aware of his leg next to hers. She imagined pressing her knee against his, wondering if he would push back and the thought of it gave her butterflies.

The boys took a second slice of cake into the sitting room to eat it and watch television, leaving the adults at the table.

‘Paul, I was going to ask a favour of you,’ said Marc.

Christa noticed Paul looked slightly terrified.

‘Yes?’

‘Can you organise some decorations for the house? The tree looks so alone in its glory without any of the extra trimmings around the house. I think you could do a great job. I mean, you know about that stuff. I know you won’t do anything garish. I’m thinking traditional style you know?’

Paul gasped. ‘Shut the front door, you didn’t just ask me that?!’

Marc glanced at Christa who raised her eyebrows at him as she swallowed a piece of cake.

‘He did just ask that,’ she confirmed.

‘Yes!’ Paul clapped.

‘Not tacky,’ Marc reminded him.

‘I am the very pinnacle of taste and class. I once convinced Lady Gaga to not decorate her house in the style of the catacombs with real skulls and to instead install a rainforest spa complete with a wall of rare moss flown in from South America. “Always choose life over death”, I said to her. It really lifted her spirits.’

Christa burst out laughing. ‘I don’t know if you’re serious or not, but I do love Lady Gaga.’

‘She’s divine – you’d love her,’ said Paul eating more cake. ‘You will need to stop making desserts like this though, otherwise I will be eligible to fit into the Santa suit for Christmas Day.’

‘Shush,’ said Christa. ‘None of that, I don’t like diet talk in my kitchen. Do you feel hungry right now?’

Paul paused. ‘I do. It’s the cold weather.’

‘So, eat the cake, and when you feel full, which your body will tell you, don’t eat any more.’

Marc looked at her. ‘Not a fan of diets?’

Christa wasn’t sure if he was being rude or serious. She knew she was curvy but she was fine with her body.

‘I don’t like diet culture. I like intuitive eating. If you know what your body needs then eat it. Eat when you’re hungry and give it nutritious food. A slice of cake isn’t something we have every day but when we do we should make sure we enjoy it.’

‘My ex-wife would disagree with you. She’s the food police for the boys, and for herself. So many rules about food and always new diets.’

Adam laughed. ‘Remember when we went to Colorado and she asked for a glass of condensation at that health spa?’

Paul started to laugh with him. ‘And when she said she could only have organic essence of anything.’

Christa inwardly rolled her eyes and sighed. This ex sounded like a nightmare and the exact opposite of herself.

‘When is she coming?’ asked Christa. ‘I just need to know so I can catch the morning dew and forage wintry smoke flavours in the evening.’

The table burst out laughing and Christa felt Marc’s hand on her forearm.

‘Sorry, that was bitchy,’ she said. ‘I’m sure she’s lovely.’

‘God that’s hilarious,’ he said then, putting his other hand over his face, still chuckling.

His firm grasp on her arm wasn’t too tight or too heavy. She swore she could feel every muscle in his hand, down to the tendons in his fingers. It sent a shiver up her arm and her skin prickled in response.

The sound of her phone ringing interrupted the moment and she grabbed it from the bench and saw Zane’s name pop up.

‘Excuse me,’ she said to the table and walked out of the room.

‘Hey,’ she said.

‘Hi, Christa, I hate to call at the last minute but is there any chance you can come and help tonight? We have two people out with colds.’

Christa checked the time. It was after nine. ‘Can I meet you at the van after you’ve left?’

‘That’d be great. We’re going to be down on Coppergate if you want to meet us there.’

‘Fantastic. Do you need me to bring anything?’

‘Just yourself – that’s more than enough.’

Christa put her phone in the pocket of her jeans and paused, trying to think of an excuse to leave. What would Marc say if she said she had to leave now and go and feed some homeless people? Maybe she should just tell him. Surely he would understand.

She walked back into the kitchen and saw that Marc had opened a bottle of dessert wine and the three men were drinking from elegant glasses.

‘Everything okay?’ asked Marc. ‘Come and have a drink. This is a wonderful wine from a vineyard in France that I own.’

Christa didn’t even know how to respond to that. Marc was drinking wine from a vineyard he owned and she was being asked to help people who needed it most. It annoyed her deeply. He wouldn’t understand. His childhood might have been troubled but he was so far removed from the everyday trials of people struggling she wanted to tip the wine down the sink and drag him to the food van and show him the reality for so many.

She started packing the dishwasher with the plates and cutlery and then put the pans and baking dishes into the industrial dishwasher in the butler’s pantry.

‘Don’t do that,’ she heard Marc say as she closed the door of the machine and turned I it on. ‘Come and sit with us.’

‘I can’t.’ She could hardly contain the anger in her voice as she replied. ‘I have to head out. Do you need anything else done before I go?’

She pulled off her apron and threw it onto the bench.

‘Are you okay? What happened? Who was on the phone?’ he asked, his face concerned.

‘I’m fine.’

She walked into the kitchen and pulled her coat and bag down from the hook.

‘Happy birthday, Adam. I hope you had a lovely day and enjoyed the cake.’

Adam and Paul looked at her and her coat. ‘Where are you going?’ Paul asked.

‘I’m meeting a friend,’ she said.

‘I sense a lover in York, a midnight fling. How perfect. Didn’t take you long.’ Paul laughed and Adam joined in his giggles.

Christa avoided Marc’s gaze and grabbed her hat from where it sat near the back door and headed outside to her car.

The air was crisp and she could hear frost crunching beneath her feet as she walked over the grass.

A vineyard in France? Who had a vineyard?

She started her car and let it warm up for a moment and then drove down the driveway towards town, wondering how she could be living between such different worlds.

*

The van was set up and people were milling around when she arrived. Soon she was serving soup and handing out sandwiches and some custard tarts a bakery had donated.

‘Petey isn’t here tonight?’ she asked Zane as he came to help her.

‘No, he’s sick. He needs to take care; he’s getting on himself.’ Zane said. ‘His wife died a few years ago. He runs the fudge company himself and runs the market stall alone most days.’

Christa made a mental note to call on Petey at the market the next day.

‘Soup? Chicken noodle or pumpkin?’ she asked, looking down from the counter of the van, to see a young girl of about eight or nine, in a thin jacket with a toddler in a stroller next to her. ‘Hi.’ She smiled at the little girl.

‘Chicken noodle,’ said the child.

‘Where’s your mum?’ she asked.

‘Talking to the nurse,’ she said.

Christa looked at Zane who didn’t seem surprised at the age of the children in front of them.

‘Does your little brother want something to eat? Maybe some bread and butter or custard tart?’

Christa wished she had something more nutritious for the child.

‘A custard tart would be nice,’ said the girl shyly and Christa handed her four and a cup of soup with a lid on it and some bread and butter.

The child manoeuvred the stroller away with one hand while she held the soup after putting the other items in the basket below the child.

‘Jesus,’ she said to Zane, feeling shaken. ‘It’s so late, that child is clearly cold, and the toddler should be asleep. Why are they out here tonight? Is there a place their mother can get this support during the day?’

Zane looked at her.

‘There is but what if she’s working? What then? The mother is getting them food, good food, which is better than no food or eating rice for days. She’s getting shopping from us. She’s getting her wounds from her bastard ex-husband checked by the nurse and the children are together and safe with us here now. Is it ideal? No. But is she trying to do her best? Yes. Her best might not be what you and I might throw out to be the best but it’s all she can do right now and all we can do is support her.’

Christa watched as the mother came back to her children and wrapped her arms around them, making a fuss over the custard tarts.

She wasn’t a religious person but in the moment, she sent a little prayer up to whoever was turning this crazy world and asked if they would share a little magic with this small family doing the best they could on a cold winter’s night.