Page 17 of Christmas for the Village Midwife (The Village Midwife #2)

‘Come on,’ Corrine chirped, ushering them back to the area she’d set up as their work space. ‘Let’s get started and see what we can do!’

No matter how often she was met with a blank stare or a silent response, Corrine kept Billie in her sights.

Zoe, on the other hand, she left largely to her own devices, and it was clear that she had a good reason for this.

Corrine, ever perceptive, ever empathetic, knew what Billie needed.

She could see that there was a happier person beneath that quiet, serious exterior, someone who’d been damaged, who’d had the heart ripped from her and feared the world because of it.

She was cautious and cynical, but Zoe knew from Alex that she hadn’t always been that way.

And it seemed that what Zoe knew as fact, Corrine sensed instinctively.

‘Some are born knowing how to bake,’ she said as Billie measured her sugar, then her ginger and then tossed them together before dabbing a pinky into the whole thing to taste. She paused then added more ginger.

Zoe glanced down at the recipe book they were sharing. ‘It doesn’t say to mix them together like that.’

Corrine gave a nod of approval as Billie looked up, the concentration on her face morphing into a look of sudden doubt. ‘Oh, have I done it wrong?’

‘If you think it’s right, then that’s fine.’

‘But what if I’ve ruined it?’

‘I don’t think you have.’

‘I don’t know…’

Billie started towards the bin, bowl in hand.

Zoe leaped to take it from her. ‘Don’t throw it away! We don’t have enough ginger for you to start again!’

‘We can always send Victor out for some more,’ Corrine said serenely. ‘But I think you ought to trust your instincts a bit more, Billie. I think they’re serving you well so far.’

‘Will you taste it then?’ Billie asked, and Zoe was thrown by an expression that said Corrine’s opinion really mattered. ‘To check it’s all right.’

‘If you like, my love.’ Corrine went over and dabbed a finger into the bowl as Billie had done, and then nodded. ‘Oh yes, that’ll do. I’d say crack on with that and let’s see what happens when it’s been in the oven. We’ve got all the time in the world. If it comes out wrong, we’ll just try again.’

Before Billie could reply, Zoe dropped her wooden spoon onto the floor and let out a sweary hiss. Corrine tutted, as if to chastise her, but she was smiling with it.

‘Sorry, Miss.’ Zoe laughed as she bent to retrieve it and then went to get a cloth to wipe the floor.

‘Let me,’ Corrine said, going to the sink and taking it from her. ‘Here’ – she opened a drawer and took out another spoon, which she handed to Zoe – ‘you carry on while I clean up.’

When Zoe turned around, she noticed Billie looking thoughtful as she allowed her gaze to wander to Corrine’s spice rack.

‘Do you think any of these will make it taste better?’ she asked nobody in particular.

‘Depends how pregnant you are,’ Zoe said, laughing again. ‘I’m not sure I’d go with the oregano or the parsley.’

‘Sorry…’ Billie turned away from the rack. ‘I was just wondering how to make it…’

‘Interesting?’ Corrine threw her cleaning cloth into the washing machine before coming to join her, and then they both paid full attention to the tiny jars lining the shelf.

‘You could certainly get bonus points for doing something creative with your flavours, especially if you’re not the most skilled in presentation.

How about zesting an orange or something? ’

Billie turned to her. ‘What about a lemon? Like that tea you buy. Dad got some for me – it helped me to stop feeling so sick when I first got pregnant.’

‘Lemon and ginger. Yes, you could do that. You could even try black tea or coffee in there. Have a play around and see what you think works.’

‘What are you putting in yours?’

‘Me?’ Corrine smiled. ‘I’m not imaginative in that way. I’m a traditional old bird – it’ll be the same old spices I always use.’

‘What are those?’

‘Ginger, obviously. Sometimes I’ll play around with a little nutmeg or some cloves or cinnamon, or a touch of honey, that sort of thing.

I often find it all comes together with the icing, and that’s where I’ll get a lot of my flavours in.

There’s no reason why you shouldn’t dream up some new flavours, though. ’

‘Lemon sounds good,’ Zoe called over, red-faced as she mixed.

‘Maybe I’ll try the orange after all,’ Billie replied as she went to the fruit bowl.

Corrine exchanged a sly smile with Zoe and went back to her own bowl.

‘Did you bake much as a nipper?’ she asked out loud.

‘Me?’ Zoe asked, wiping her brow with a sleeve. ‘Not really. We lived near a cake shop so I was like, “Why would I?” Their cakes were really good, better than I could have made.’

‘I’m surprised to hear you say you haven’t done much,’ Corrine said to Billie as she returned with two oranges. ‘Looking at you today, you’re like a duck to water.’

‘But you’re not surprised to hear me say it,’ Zoe cut in. ‘Rude. I get the message; I look hopeless, and it’s obvious I don’t bake a lot.’

Corrine smiled. ‘You’re doing just fine. And I know you bake now – you’ve told me as much.’

‘Not all that often,’ Zoe said. ‘I probably would do more if I had time. I’m not the world’s best, but I do find it quite relaxing.’

‘Is that why you do it all the time?’ Billie asked Corrine.

Corrine’s smile grew. ‘Relaxing? I couldn’t say. I think Victor would leave me if I stopped making cakes for him.’

‘It doesn’t bother you?’ Billie asked. ‘That he makes you do all the cooking and he wants cakes all the time?’

‘Oh, I don’t really think that,’ Corrine said.

‘Ignore me – it’s just daft things I say.

I like doing the cooking. It’s a bit old-fashioned, the way we do things, but it’s the way we’ve always done them, and the way it works best for us.

I like to see him enjoy his food. I suppose it’s the way I show him my love. ’

‘They do say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, right?’ Zoe added.

‘That’s what they say,’ Corrine agreed. ‘It’s certainly true in Victor’s case.’ She wiped her hands on her apron and turned to Billie. ‘How are you doing there?’

Billie was rubbing an orange vigorously over a grater. She shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Is this right?’

‘Looks all right to me. You doubt yourself a lot, but you really shouldn’t. I think you have a knack for it, you know. You’re a natural, I can tell. Some people just are.’

‘I always think it’s like chemistry,’ Zoe said. ‘If you’re good at that, then you’ll probably be good with food.’

‘I was rubbish at chemistry at school,’ Billie said.

‘Were you good at art?’ Corrine asked.

Billie shrugged. ‘I was all right. I got an A.’

‘There you go then. Baking isn’t only chemistry; it’s art too. It’s as clear as day to me you have art in you. The way you put your flavours together, it’s like an artist mixing his colours for the right shade.’

‘What’s all this?’ Victor ambled in, used mug in his hand. ‘Art and paints. It’s just cake, i’n’t it?’

‘You wouldn’t understand,’ Corrine huffed. ‘Great heathen lump that you are. You’ve never mixed a cake batter in your life.’

‘Ah, but I’ve eaten enough of them.’

‘Your belt’s telling me that,’ Corrine said with a wink at Billie. ‘Had to put another hole in, didn’t you?’

Victor began to protest that it wasn’t his fault and that Corrine had told him at the time not to worry and he was still slim and handsome and then stopped as she began to laugh. ‘Rotten, that’s what you are.’

Corrine was laughing as he took his mug to the kettle for a refill, and when Zoe chanced a quick look at Billie, she caught the merest ghost of a smile.

A couple of hours later, Corrine stood with her arms folded, studying Billie’s gingerbread house.

It was far from perfect – messy joints, off-centre decorations and blackened edges where the gingerbread had caught, but even Zoe could see it oozed a certain creativity.

‘Not bad,’ Corrine said. ‘Not bad at all for your first go.’ Then she moved over to Zoe’s house, looking as though she was stifling a grin.

Although, Zoe had decided it was less of a house and more one of those bomb shelters you used to see in old public information films about what to do in the event of a nuclear attack.

One of the walls had already fallen off, and the roof looked ready to collapse at any moment.

‘I’m sure it will taste all right,’ Zoe said.

‘I’m sure it will,’ Corrine agreed, still trying to keep that grin under control. ‘Shall we try some?’

Zoe snapped a corner from her fallen wall and then put it into her mouth. ‘I was wrong – it doesn’t taste all right either.’

‘I’m sure it’s not that bad,’ Corrine said, taking some from her.

Zoe watched Corrine’s face as she chewed laboriously.

It was dry, too stringent, the heat of the ginger overwhelming and there wasn’t enough sweetness from the sugar.

Zoe couldn’t tell where she’d gone so wrong, but had to assume that at some point she’d messed up on the measurements and not noticed her mistake until it was too late.

‘It’s a…ummm bold flavour,’ Corrine said, and Zoe had to laugh.

‘It’s that all right! I did try to warn you!’

‘Don’t be so hard on yourself,’ Corrine said. ‘It’s really not that bad.’

‘I’m a big girl,’ Zoe replied. ‘I can take the truth. I don’t know how I got it wrong – must have missed something off the instructions, maybe.’

‘Maybe when Dad phoned as you were measuring, it put you off,’ Billie said.

Corrine nodded. ‘That’ll be it.’

‘Should I try it?’ Billie asked.

Zoe shook her head with a rapidly widening grin. ‘As your midwife and friend, absolutely not! There’s no telling what it will do to you. And as everything you eat gets passed to your unborn baby, it might count as child cruelty. Come on – let’s try yours instead. I bet it’s as nice as it smells.’

Billie chewed on a piece she had left over from her construction. ‘It’s OK,’ she said. ‘Fine, I think.’

‘Wow, that’s good!’ Zoe exclaimed through a mouthful. ‘The orange really works!’

‘Do you think?’

Corrine snapped off a corner and bit into it. ‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘It works very well. Did you put a little honey in too?’

Billie nodded. ‘I mean, you said about honey, and I thought…’

‘I did, and I’m glad to see you trying different combinations. It’s very nice,’ Corrine said. ‘Delicious, in fact.’

At that moment, Victor returned to the kitchen, armed with the same dirty mug to be refilled a third time with tea. ‘All done in here?’ he asked.

‘For today,’ Corrine said. ‘And yes, there’s spare for you, you great greedy gannet.’

‘That’s not why I came down,’ Victor said, and when Corrine lifted her eyebrows so high in disbelief they might have left her head entirely, Zoe burst out laughing again.

The day had been good for her soul, if not for her baking confidence, because she realised then that she’d laughed an awful lot.

She’d even seen flashes of contentment in Billie’s expression at points during the evening. She couldn’t wait to tell Alex.

‘I’d avoid that one,’ Zoe warned him, pointing to her tray.

‘Righto,’ Victor said, eyeing it briefly before, apparently, deciding he ought to take Zoe at her word.

He moved along the counter and snapped a corner from another tray.

‘Ooh, that’s nice,’ he said as he munched.

‘Very tasty. And let’s see…’ He then went to a second tray and did the same.

‘Lord above! Corrine – you’ve outdone yourself!

I think this is the best you’ve ever made!

Sorry, ladies’ – he grinned at Zoe and Billie as he stuffed another chunk into his mouth – ‘but the crown’s not going anywhere this year. ’

‘As it happens,’ Corrine said mildly, ‘that’s Billie’s.’

Victor stared at the young woman. ‘Yours? Ruddy hell, lass! I didn’t know you could bake!’

‘I don’t.’ Billie looked confused. ‘It’s nice then?’

‘Nice? I’ll tell you how nice it is – I’m going to take the rest, and I’m not going to apologise for it!’

Billie’s gaze went back to the construction. ‘It doesn’t look very good, though.’

‘Practice makes perfect,’ Corrine said. ‘That’s all you need. You’ve got the basics, so that’s halfway there.’

‘I think she might be in with a chance this year,’ Victor said to Corrine, who nodded, shooting Billie a look of pride that was heartening.

Ever generous, Zoe suspected Billie winning would mean more to Corrine than winning herself, simply for the confidence it would inspire in the younger woman.

‘A bit of beginner’s luck is nowt to be sniffed at, eh? ’

‘That’s not beginner’s luck,’ Corrine said. ‘It’s a God-given talent.’

Billie shook her head, but Zoe saw something that perhaps even Billie herself didn’t know she was showing.

A brightness, a tiny moment of epiphany so imperceptible that it might not have been there at all, but Zoe had spent enough time with Billie now to recognise a change in her demeanour when she saw it.

Had Corrine inadvertently stumbled on the catalyst for Billie’s recovery?

She’d lived for so long in the shadow of her grief for the man she’d lost, the man who hadn’t ever known about his baby, and in fear of what her life might be raising that baby alone, that Zoe had never known her without it.

‘It’s all a bit of fun anyway.’ Corrine moved her creation to one side to make a space on the worktop.

‘It’s only to raise money for charity; in the end, it doesn’t really matter who wins as long as lots of people join in.

Now then…’ She took off her apron, tossed it into the washing machine and then took a clean one from a drawer, fastening it over her dress.

‘Who’s for a bite to eat? I thought I’d make some ham sandwiches and a nice cup of tea. ’