Chapter Eighteen
Regan let out a giant yawn as Penny unlocked the café and let her in. ‘Out partying, were you?’
Regan pouted. ‘I wish. I was making jam until silly o’clock this morning.’
‘I’m proud of you. That’s the sort of work ethic that will …’ Regan was shaking her head. Penny took the hint and stopped talking.
‘Only part of that time was making jam – the rest I spent chipping it off the kitchen surfaces.’ Regan pulled two partly filled jam jars from her bag and placed them on the counter. Penny narrowed her eyes at them. ‘Is that it?’
‘Yep. Jam making is like some form of mystical alchemy. I did everything – well pretty much everything – the recipes said, and it was a total disaster. Dad’s kitchen stinks – we’ll probably have to redecorateagain. And his cooker top is about an inch higher than it once was, thanks to a coating of hardened molten lava. Or my jam, which equates to the same thing. The only possible use for this stuff is to sell it to the council for road resurfacing.’ Penny was looking doubtful. ‘There was no way I could chip it off the cooker, so it’s hardwearing stuff.’
Regan let out anoomphsound as she flopped onto a chair. ‘Coffee?’ asked Penny, starting to make the drinks. ‘It’ll all look better after a coffee.’
‘That won’t,’ said Regan, pointing at the brown lumps in the two jars on the counter.
‘At least you have some samples for Bernice. That’s an achievement,’ said Penny encouragingly. ‘And you made it yourself.’
‘Worryingly, that does look like a sample I made myself and should be handing in at the doctor’s surgery.’ Regan put her tired head on her hands. ‘I give up.’
Penny plonked a large cappuccino down in front of Regan so hard the cup jumped in the saucer, making Regan jolt upright. ‘Oh no you don’t.’
‘What is this – panto time?’ said Regan. ‘Oh yes I do.’
Penny sat down opposite. ‘I didn’t have you down as a quitter.’
Regan was too tired to fight. ‘Sometimes you need to know when to quit.’ She stared at the foam on the coffee. She didn’t want to give up, but there wasn’t even a glimmer of hope from last night’s jam making that made her think it was worth trying again. This wasn’t something she was going to learn overnight, let alone become an immediate expert in.
‘What’s it taste like?’ asked Penny, tipping her head at the jam jars.
Regan shrugged. ‘Dunno.’
‘You don’t know?’ Penny was already up on her feet and heading for the kitchen. She soon returned with a plate, two knives and some crackers.
‘I don’t want to end up having my stomach pumped, thanks very much,’ said Regan, clutching her cup for comfort. The coffee was slowly reviving her.
‘Drama queen,’ said Penny, opening a jar and sniffing it. Regan recoiled as if she’d opened a joke tin with a springy snake in it. Penny closed her eyes.
‘If you’re overcome with fumes you only have yourself to blame.’
‘Stop it.’ Penny scooped some out, spread a little on two crackers and handed one to Regan.
‘What’s this, a suicide pact?’
‘Eat it!’ Penny looked like she’d reached the end of her tether.
Regan took the cracker from her and sniffed it. ‘Onion and chilli,’ she confirmed, in a small voice. At least she could identify it. She looked at Penny, her cracker held in front of her. ‘On three?’
Penny shook her head and took a bite of the cracker.Great, now I’ve definitely got to eat it, thought Regan. She took a bite and chewed quickly. The sooner she got to the swallowing stage, the sooner it would be over and she could wash it down with coffee. This was not a moment for mindfulness. But as she chewed, the flavour that sprang across her tongue was a huge surprise. Regan slowed her chewing and watched Penny – she was grinning.
‘That’s bloody lovely. You really had me going there,’ said Penny, giving Regan a playful slap on the arm. ‘The sweetness of the caramelised onions works really well with the bite of the chilli.’ Regan was speechless. ‘And what’s this one?’ said Penny, opening the other jar and putting a big dollop onto a fresh cracker.
‘Plum and cardamom,’ whispered Regan. One was a fluke. This was bound to be vile.
‘It’s set well,’ said Penny, before taking a bite. Regan stared and waited. ‘Mmm, that’s really good too.’
Regan snatched up a cracker and spread some on to try for herself. Penny was right. It tasted good. The cardamom gave it a savoury flavour. ‘I could eat that with a curry,’ said Regan, sounding as stunned as she felt.
‘Well done, Regan. I think you’re in business.’
