Christmas Wishes at Pudding Hall by Kate Forster
25
The next day Simon charged Peggy with buying the ingredients for the soufflé bake-off, which would take place that evening.
‘Of course, he’s too lazy to go into town,’ said Christa as she finely chopped chives for the mushroom soup she was making for Avian.
‘This air in this house is so tense I could carve it up and serve it for lunch,’ said Peggy as she folded napkins and wiped down the table from breakfast.
Christa had not spoken to Marc as he seemed to be hiding in his office. Simon was also missing in action but not Avian who had announced she needed selenium and mushrooms would be the only remedy.
‘If Mr Ferrier chooses the other soufflé, then I will have to make my shepherd’s pie for their Christmas lunch,’ said Peggy.
Christa slammed her knife onto the bench and turned the cutting board around.
‘He will not win. Trust me on this. He never gets the egg white consistency right. He rushes it like he rushes everything. He’s half-arsed, lazy, selfish.’
She chopped furiously, thinking about all the times Simon put himself first.
‘You know, the thing with Simon is…’ Peggy stopped speaking, as though catching herself.
‘Tell me. What where you going to say?’ Christa asked.
Peggy’s opinion mattered to her because it was hard-earned. The respect Christa had for the no-nonsense woman was strong and the more she saw her work ethic the more she liked her, especially since she knew she and Petey were becoming friends.
‘I don’t know you well enough to say anything that you don’t know yourself.’
‘Tell me,’ Christa said. ‘I want to know what you think.’
Peggy straightened the pile of napkins on the table.
‘I think we can pretend things are okay because we want them to be okay. We can overlook and overlook until finally we can’t ignore it anymore.’
Christa listened.
‘If your ex-husband hadn’t asked for a divorce, would you have stayed in the marriage?’
Christa couldn’t speak because she knew the truth.
‘Stability means a lot to a girl like you, I see that. Whatever happened to you in your childhood has meant you stay places now because you are afraid of not knowing what will happen next. But the familiarity can eat away at you until there is nothing left, my love.’
Christa felt tears fall. She had never been so fully understood by anyone.
Peggy reached across the table and held her hand.
‘You have one life, Christa. Chase after what you want. No matter what it is.’
She nodded, unsure what exactly Peggy was referring to but she knew Peggy saw something in her was smouldering.
‘Do you mean Marc?’ she asked.
Peggy shrugged. ‘Marc, York, the van, the restaurant. Peter told me. Whatever it is or if it’s all of them, you have to trust your talent and ideas and capacity to love.’
Christa nodded, feeling herself about to weep.
‘I might go for a quick walk,’ she said. ‘Just to clear my head.’
Peggy nodded. ‘And I am off to change the sheets in Avian’s bedroom because she says they are too hard. Princess and the Chick Pea, I tell you.’
Christa took her coat and hat from the hook and slipped her feet into the boots by the back door.
‘I won’t be long,’ she said and she smiled at Peggy through her tears. ‘You’re the best part of Pudding Hall,’ she said to her friend.
Peggy tilted her head to one side and made a thinking face. ‘So far,’ she said, and then she walked out of the kitchen, clearly proud of having the last word.
*
A peacock passed Christa on the path, ignoring her and pecking at the wet grass. Bill wasn’t anywhere to be seen and the garden was quiet apart from the occasional sounds of the birds.
Of course, Peggy was right. She was so busy trying to be safe in her life after her dad died that she forgot to take risks. The last risk she had ever taken was going to Le Cordon Bleu and asking them to take a chance on her. Then Simon took over their life and her talent and she let him.
She walked further than she had before, down through the manicured paths, until she came to what looked like a dell. Nothing was blooming and the naked trees were sleeping but it was still beautiful. She sat on the woven willow seat, thankful for the length of her coat against the wet wood.
A crack of sticks made her turn and she saw the stag on the edge of the wood.
She stayed still. The stag watched her for a while and then decided she wasn’t any risk to him.
He walked about the dell, occasionally munching on bark and then moving on to the next tree or the grass on the ground.
He was magnificent. Proud, so big. The antlers were works of art and the red coat glowed in the winter light.
She thought about the little deer she found in the Christmas cracker when she was a child, and the night she saw the deer when she arrived and then the deer family Christmas decoration that Marc gave her.
She wasn’t a superstitious person but surely this had to mean something?
‘What do I need to learn from you? From this?’ she whispered.
The deer ignored her and she felt silly for asking a creature who could easily kill her what it was there to teach her.
Fear, she thought, it was here to teach her fear. But she knew fear. She had been afraid all her life. Of what people thought of her. Of taking risks. Of claiming her ideas and pulling back from Simon and asking for support and recognition. But when she looked at the animal, she wasn’t afraid.
As though understanding her, the deer ambled away as slowly as it had come into her view.
She had to stop being afraid of her possibilities. Anything was possible if she wanted it and worked hard enough for it.
Standing up she brushed off her coat and straightened her shoulders.
She would win the soufflé competition and Simon would go away and she would tell Marc exactly how she felt and everyone would live happily ever after.
She just had to have a little faith and the best cultured butter and bittersweet chocolate she could find.