She was bloody brilliant at beingfriends.
So brilliant he wasn’t going to know what hit him. She’d give him sodding, bloody, flamingfriends.
She slammed a fourth egg. Bugger. She’d completely smashed it, the yolk bleeding orange into the white, rendering it useless for the meringue she was making.
She stared down at the mess. She was an idiot. Hadn’t she learned anything? She should have followed her gut instinct and kept her distance from him. That stupid sizzle of sexual attraction had led her astray. Sex was responsible for a lot of things.
‘Is that egg upsetting you?’
Izzy turned to find Hattie lurking in the doorway and gave a half-laugh, realising she was glaring at the contents of the bowl like a deranged lunatic.
‘No, I got a bit heavy-handed. I was cross with myself. How are you? Did you sleep well?’
‘Yes. I did. Best sleep I’ve had since…’ Her voice trailed off before she said in a quiet voice, ‘In ages.’ She glanced away looking out of the window. ‘Difficult to believe a blizzard was raging yesterday. It looks gorgeous out there today.’
Izzy followed her gaze to the blue sky and brilliant sunshine that bounced off the pure white and coated the lines of the landscape. A new day. Very different to yesterday. She smiled with irony to herself. A day to make a fresh start.
‘Want a scrambled egg for breakfast?’ she asked Hattie.
Hattie laughed. ‘I don’t mind if I do. You look like you’re busy, why don’t I make it?’
‘Are you sure? I won’t say no, I want to get this done.’ She pointed out where everything was, grateful that she could carry on.
‘What are you making?’
‘I’m making a Christmas meringue wreath for Christmas Day which I’ll decorate with loganberries, blueberries, raspberries and pomegranate seeds. That’s for anyone who doesn’t like Christmas pudding and brandy butter.’
Hattie groaned with heartfelt enthusiasm. ‘That sounds delicious.’ Then, with an impish grin, she asked, ‘Are we allowed to have a little bit of both?’
Izzy laughed. ‘It’s Christmas Day, you can have whatever you like.’ She gave Hattie’s too slim form a speculative glance. ‘You can afford the calories.’
‘Yeah, well, let’s just say misery is the best diet on the planet,’ Hattie said with a rueful twist to her lips. ‘And don’t feel sorry for me. I’m fine. Don’t want to talk about it.’
‘Fair enough,’ said Izzy. ‘I understand that.’ She completely did. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about Ross to anyone. In fact, she didn’t even want to talktohim.
As Hattie pottered about making her breakfast, Izzy grabbed a bottle of whisky and poured a generous slug over some frozen raspberries in one pan while she warmed some honey in another.
Hattie peered over from her side of the cooker. ‘Looks interesting, what are you making with that?’
‘I’m using the leftover egg yolks to make a cranachan ice cream. I’m cooking the raspberries in a dram of whisky.’
‘A dram?’ Hattie grinned. ‘Or a few drams? And what’s cranachan? Don’t forget I’m a sassenach.’
‘So ye are,’ said Izzy, broadening her accent with a laugh. ‘Cranachan is a traditional Scottish dessert made of oats, raspberries, honey and cream, so this is a variation. I’ve whipped up egg yolks and I’m going to stir in the honey and I’ll mix that with whipped cream and a little whisky. I’ve got some oats toasting in the oven and I’ll layer the cream and egg mix with the raspberries, starting with a layer of the toasted oats. And then pop the whole lot in the freezer in a bread loaf tin. It’s a nice light dessert and I thought we could have it on Boxing Day after a nice, spicy turkey curry.’
‘You’ve got it all planned.’
‘Planned to the nth degree.’ And as she’d got all the food in readiness, there was no point deviating. Izzy grinned. ‘With a little help from my friends. Fliss and Jason have been sending me recipe ideas for weeks. I’m so grateful they’ve come to help, even though your relatives aren’t coming now, but it will be good practice for when we do open.’
Hattie’s face fell. ‘God, I’m so sorry about them. Honestly, they’re lovely people. I know Auntie Jessie was really excited about coming here but I guess the snow spooked her. She can be a bit of an anxious Annie. But it’s unlike her to let—’
‘Look what we found in the attic.’ Xanthe and Alicia burst into the kitchen each wearing pith helmets. Even though Izzy wasn’t feeling particularly charitable to either of them, she couldn’t help laughing at the sight of them.
‘Aren’t these great?’ screeched Xanthe, wobbling her head from side to side. ‘I seem to recall Bill mentioning that one of his ancestors had been a friend of Dr Livingstone. Just imagine, he might have worn one of these.’
‘What, Bill?’ asked Izzy.
‘No, Dr Livingstone.’ Xanthe shook her head impatiently, nearly dislodging the hat.
