‘How about I do the cauliflowers? They don’t need peeling.’ Emily picked up one of the five from the table. ‘Are some of these for tomorrow?’
Lottie blinked. ‘I have absolutely no idea. Nana used to do it all. I wish I’d asked questions; paid more attention. Or insisted on helping when Nana shooed me away. Can you cook?’ Desperation stared out from Lottie.
‘I’m more of a salad or stir-fry kind of person. My family’s not big on veg, so one cauli would do four of us. Shall I do three?’
Lottie started picking up and putting down random vegetables and muttering incoherently under her breath. Emily wished Zach would join them; she was fearing for Lottie’s sanity. ‘Lottie. Shall I cut up three?’ She waved a cauliflower in front of Lottie’s face.
‘What do we do with this?’ Lottie waved a pineapple at her. Emily dodged out of the way for fear of losing an eye. ‘Pineapple. Where does that feature in Christmas?’ Lottie was frowning hard. ‘I’ve got to conjure something up for vegetarians. No, they’re vegans. Vegetarian would have beentooeasy.’ She rubbed her forehead with the heel of her hand.
‘They should be okay,’ said Emily, indicating the vegetables heaped on the table.
‘What’s this?’ asked Lottie, holding up what on first glance looked like a large nut.
Emily leaned closer. ‘Nutmeg,’ she said, feeling quite proud of her identification.
‘You’re right. Nana put some in the Christmas pudding. But dessert is sorted. So what the hell is it for?’ Lottie appeared to be expecting an answer, but Emily justshrugged. Lottie rushed over to the fridge, had a rummage and produced a carton of buttermilk. ‘And this. What’s this for?’
Emily didn’t know. ‘Hot chocolate?’ It was a guess.
‘Oh my gosh. I don’t know what I’m doing,’ said Lottie, pulling out a chair and sitting down with a thud. ‘I thought it would just turn out all right on the day. That it would be obvious what I was meant to do; but it’s not. I literally don’t have a clue what I’m doing.’ She waved her hands about as if trying to cool herself down, even though the kitchen was quite chilly.
‘Ask your mum?’ suggested Emily, and she could have sworn she actually saw the colour drain from Lottie’s face.
Lottie shook her head. ‘Oh, no, no, no. That’s a very bad idea. There are things you need to know about our mother. Firstly, you should neverevershow any sign of weakness.’ She was counting them off on her fingers. ‘Secondly, she’s never cooked anything more complex than a ready meal in her life and thirdly …’ Lottie paused and stared at the mound of potatoes. ‘This is my mother we’re talking about, so whatever level of disaster I’m facing right now she will be able to take it to DEFCON one.’
Emily found herself nodding, although she was quite unsettled by the tirade. ‘I guess we can’t all be worthy ofMasterchef.’ Emily gave a little giggle to show she was trying to lighten the mood, but Lottie was still looking panicked.
‘We should have gone to the pub. Is it too late to go to the pub?’ Lottie’s eyes pleaded.
‘I think so. All you can do is your best.’
Lottie was shaking her head. ‘There’s a million people in there expecting me to cook them a perfect Christmasdinner.’ She was getting paler. ‘They want more than my best. They want a Nana Rose Christmas. But I’m not Nana.’
Emily smiled through clenched teeth. ‘It’s okay. Nobody’s expecting it to be perfect.’ Lottie’s head shot up and she looked hurt. ‘Let me rephrase that,’ said Emily, wondering where the hell Zach was. ‘What’s important is everybody getting together. Nobody really notices the food. It’s just a roast dinner.’
Lottie took a sharp intake of breath and Emily knew she’d said the wrong thing again. ‘Just. A. Roast. Dinner?’ Lottie’s voice was quiet.
‘That’s what my mum says. People get all het up about it, but she does one every week and says it’s super easy and—’
‘Can you get her on the phone?’ asked Lottie, blinking rapidly.
‘Sure, if you think it’d help?’
Lottie nodded and already looked a little brighter.
Emily had already had a brief word with her mum to wish her a merry Christmas before she’d lost signal. She’d felt strange not being at home with them all. In an odd way she was even missing her sister’s sniping. Sometimes they’d had Christmas at her aunt and uncle’s, and she’d worked a couple of years, but she’d never spent it with people she hadn’t met before. It felt a bit like cheating on her parents, although they had seemed fine about it – but that had only made her feel more homesick. They were always supportive of whatever she did, even if it was something they didn’t really agree with. The whole late period thing wasn’t helping either. She wished she was at home. Sometimes all you needed was a hug from your mum. Although she was starting to understand that a hug from Angie wouldn’t do the trick for poor Lottie.
Lottie cleared her throat, pulling Emily from her thoughts. She fumbled with her phone and dialled home. As she’d expected, her mum was more than happy to help. Lottie hung on to her every word, asked a multitude of questions and wrote down copious notes including a running order for what went on the hob or in the oven and in what order. Her mum was even able to tell them that the nutmeg and buttermilk were probably for making bread sauce, which they had unanimously decided nobody really liked and would take too much effort, so it had been scrubbed from the menu.
They ended the call with lots of thanks and an open invitation from Emily’s mum to call any time if they got stuck. ‘Your mum’s a lifesaver,’ said Lottie and Emily felt quite proud. Her mum was brilliant; but then didn’t everyone think that about their parents? ‘Thank you,’ said Lottie, giving Emily a quick squeeze. Emily smiled; it was a lovely gesture and went a little way to making her feel accepted. ‘Right. We have our orders. Let’s get to work,’ said Lottie, picking up the vegetable peeler and attacking a very large parsnip.
Chapter Fourteen
Lottie quite enjoyed preparing the veg with Emily, sharing giggles over oddly shaped carrots. It helped to get things in perspective, and Emily was good company. It was also an opportunity to learn a little bit about her. They both managed to steer clear of the possible pregnancy – she didn’t even know if Emily had done the test or not. Lottie supposed she would have to say something before the day was out, especially with a proposal looming; assuming that Dave coughed up – or ‘deposited’ – the ring at some stage.
‘So you and your sister have a bit of a competitive relationship then?’ Lottie had been picking up vibes.
‘Understatement. She’s made one-upmanship an Olympic sport. I put decking in my garden – she gets decking and a pergola. I buy Mum and Dad a voucher for afternoon tea – she buys them a holiday in France.’ Lottie couldn’t hide her astonishment. ‘She drives me crackers.’ Emily pulled a Christmas cracker from the nearby box.
