Christmas Wishes at Pudding Hall by Kate Forster
21
Avian and Simon’s self-absorption knew no boundaries. After offending Peggy, Avian then told Paul the decorations were upsetting her allergies and that she thought the styling of the house for Christmas was too busy. Simon was always in the kitchen telling Christa how to cook whatever she was cooking and speaking loudly when Marc was around about the reviews for the restaurant and how Avian had seen his potential during a small appearance he made on a travel show talking about English food.
Christa spent three days hiding in the pantry whenever Avian came into the kitchen, demanding Christa make her fresh almond milk or kefir or sweet potato crisps. Not that Christa was against any of the food Avian asked for; it was the way she asked.
‘I don’t think she knows the words please or thank you,’ Peggy agreed as they chatted over a pot of tea during the afternoon.
‘She won’t stop calling me babe,’ moaned Christa.
Pudding Hall was temporarily peaceful.
The boys were out with Avian, choosing their own Christmas presents, which Marc had argued against over dinner the night before, saying it ruined the surprise.
They boys hadn’t argued but were also unenthusiastic when they headed out in the car to York, with Simon driving Marc’s Bentley.
Now Marc and Adam were upstairs working and Paul was antiquing in some of the surrounding villages.
‘He’s an odd fellow your ex-husband,’ said Peggy, as she poured the tea into the fine china cups. Christa had also made them a simple teacake with cinnamon and sugar topping, the butter dripping down the side into little caramel rivulets that pooled on their plates.
Christa scoffed. ‘That’s a kind description.’
Peggy pushed a cup to her. ‘I mean he’s an odd choice for you.’
‘I suppose. He’s very charming. I think I was initially seduced by his charm and confidence.’
‘Charming is as charming does,’ said Peggy with a scowl. ‘I was married to a man like Simon.’
‘I didn’t know you were married,’ Christa said.
‘Because I come across as an old spinster?’ Peggy answered, with a small laugh but it wasn’t a bitter laugh, Christa thought.
‘No, maybe, I don’t know,’ Christa said. ‘You’re very guarded. It’s hard to know you.’
Peggy stirred her tea, the spoon making a sweet chiming sound as she tapped it lightly against the side of the cup.
‘Before I worked here, a long time ago, I owned a hotel in Manchester with my husband.’ She paused, as though dragging up the memories to the surface from the deepest parts of her mind. ‘Oh, he was handsome and charming, just like Simon, but how he lied. That man couldn’t lie straight in bed. Always another woman, gambling, debt, and even a child I didn’t know about until we were married.’
‘I’m sorry, Peggy,’ said Christa, hoping to hell Simon didn’t have a child she didn’t know about.
Peggy shrugged. ‘It’s been ten years since we divorced, and I ended up with nothing but that was enough. I had my freedom and my truth. I was sick of being told I was the weak one in the relationship, that I would have nothing without him.’
Christa nodded, understanding where Peggy was heading with the story.
‘That man you married is a chameleon, becoming what people want so he can get what he needs. He sucks you up and then turns you into ashes, taking all your fire and spark.’
Christa felt her eyes burn with tears ready to spill, and Peggy put her hand on her arm.
‘Don’t let him take anything away from you now, not when I see the light around you when Mr Ferrier is nearby.’
The tears fell then and she looked up at Peggy, her unlikely friend. ‘Can you see it?’
‘That you like each other? Yes.’ She smiled.
‘But I’m just a cook and I’m working for him.’
Peggy shook her head and ate a piece of cake and then wiped her mouth with a linen napkin.
‘No, you’re a chef and a very good one. You’re probably twice the chef your ex is.’
Christa didn’t answer, though she knew it was true. Everything Peggy said was accurate and more.
‘Also, I wanted to thank you for introducing me to Peter. We’re seeing a film on Thursday night.’
Christa was shocked. ‘You aren’t! That’s amazing.’
‘It’s a film, not a trip to Paris – no need to overreact,’ said Peggy.
‘I’m not overreacting, I’m happy he and you are friends. You’re both lovely people.’
‘He’s lovely; I’m less so but somehow we get along.’
Christa giggled. ‘Perhaps that’s the key. Balancing each other out. Like good food, the flavour is all in the balance.’
They finished their tea and cake in comfortable silence.
Finally, Christa stood up. ‘Speaking of which, I need to start cooking. I have to do a meal for Avian and Simon and a different one for the rest of the family.’
‘Surely she can just have some chicken feed in a bowl. It’s organic, vegan and good for birds,’ said Peggy with uncharacteristic humour.
Christa laughed, thinking of serving Avian the food as a healthy snack. Part of her wanted to do it but she never would. Avian was a nightmare but she was also the mother of the boys, whom Christa adored.
While peeling potatoes for dinner, stuffing chickens and preparing the salads and vegetables, Christa thought about what to make for Avian and Simon. She knew roast chicken was Simon’s favourite meal, especially this recipe where she had brined the chickens the night before so they were so tender and ready for roasting.
This was one of their signature dishes at Playfoot’s, and one Simon had taken the credit for over and over again.
Kale and tofu would suffice for Simon and Avian, with some cauliflower rice on the side.
Of course, she would try and infuse flavours to make it more enticing but she laughed to herself at the thought of Simon watching everyone else eat the delicious chickens while he ate the tofu, which she knew he loathed.
Once dinner was prepared, Christa thought about dessert. Now this was becoming fun, she decided. Making things she knew Simon adored eating, knowing Avian wouldn’t let him have them was almost like a sport now.
Oh she knew what it would be that would absolutely ruin him. She checked the pantry for the ingredients and then closed the door, feeling pleased with herself.
Tonight’s dinner would be fun, and she could show Marc some of her best cooking while also showing Simon what he was missing.
Brined Roast Chicken
Ingredients
1 x 1.6kg/3½lb chicken
2 lemons, sliced
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
Sea salt and cracked black pepper
Brine
1 small bunch fresh bay leaves
2 tablespoons black peppercorns
½ cup/150g/5.3oz rock salt
1 cup/175g/6oz brown sugar
1 cup/250ml/8fl oz malt vinegar
3 litres/100fl oz water
Method
- To make the brine, place the bay leaves, peppercorns, salt, sugar, vinegar and water in a large saucepan over high heat.
- Bring to the boil and cook, stirring, for 4 minutes or until the salt and sugar have dissolved. Remove from the heat and set aside to cool completely.
- Tie the legs of the chicken with kitchen string and place, breast-side down, in the brine. Cover and refrigerate for 4–8 hours.
- Preheat oven to 200°C/390°F. Place the lemon slices onto a large oven dish lined with non-stick baking paper. Remove the chicken and bay leaves from the brine, discarding the brine liquid. Place the chicken, breast-side up, on top of the lemon with the bay leaves. Drizzle with the oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Cook for 45–50 minutes or until the chicken is golden brown and cooked through.