‘Last week, but I forgot about it.’ Henry had the good grace to look sheepish, but it hadn’t done a lot to appease his mother.
‘Oh, come on, Hen, we’ve been through this before. I can’tmagic up golden caster sugar, ground almonds and stoned cherries out of nowhere at 9p.m. on a Thursday night. Even if we set off early, I can’t see the Co-op in the village having all of this, and we definitely won’t have time to drive to the big supermarket before you catch the bus. It’s your responsibility to remember these things and you’ll just have to deal with the consequences of not doing it, then maybe you’ll remember it more easily next time.’
‘Mrs Bainbridge will give me a detention if I don’t take the ingredients in, and that means I’ll miss the school bus because the last one back to Port Agnes goes before detention finishes, then you or Dad will have to pick me up. On a Friday night.’
‘How come you’re the one forgetting the stuff and I’m the one who ends up getting punished for it? I’ve already got to run your brothers over to their swimming tomorrow in Port Tremellien.’
‘You could always try the old switcheroo.’ Briony hadn’t been able to stop herself from grinning as the memory popped into her head. ‘Do you remember the world’s flattest bread?’
‘Oh God.’ Bex had clapped a hand over her mouth, already laughing, before suddenly affecting an outraged tone. ‘Right then, young lady, explain to me why this bread looks like a frisbee.’
Briony was laughing too, as she attempted to put on the same haughty tone. ‘And why on earth does it smell like chicken?’
They were both laughing so much they were barely able to respond when Henry asked them what was so funny.
‘I was about as good at remembering food tech ingredients as you.’ Briony was still smiling when she looked at her nephew. ‘And your nan was working such long hours that every time I forgot something we didn’t already have in the house, me and your mum would try to think up a substitute. Sometimes it was easy, we’d swap out caster sugar for granulated, put some in a bagand try to crush it with a rolling pin so that it was a bit finer, or swap cornflour for plain flour and hope for the best. But one week I was supposed to be making bread and we needed some dried yeast. We didn’t have anything like it, so we decided to crumble up some chicken stock cubes.’
‘But bread doesn’t rise without yeast.’ Henry had looked confused and Briony had laughed again.
‘Exactly. I spent four hours baking a loaf that ended up flat enough to be posted through a letter box and smelled like roast chicken crisps. My food tech teacher, Miss O’Malley, was not amused, and she held up the offending bread like I’d presented her with a cowpat, and if I’m honest it was probably about as appetising.’
‘Everyone at the school was talking about the frisbee bread and doing impersonations of Miss O’Malley. It was our version of something going viral, back in the days before all of that sort of stuff. Whenever someone at school did something daft, everyone else would say “and why on earth does it smell of chicken”, in a silly voice. It made your Auntie Briony a legend.’ Bex had grinned again then and Briony had wanted to smile too, but the use of the termAuntie Brionyhad taken her breath away. It had sounded so natural, and it had meant more than she’d ever imagined possible.
‘Bread the flavour of roast chicken crisps sounds alright to me, although maybe not if you could use it as a frisbee.’ Henry’s grin had come far more easily than Briony’s had. He had his grandmother’s smile, and she’d felt another huge surge of love for him. ‘Do you think we could come up with replacements for the stuff I need?’
‘I’m sure we could give it a go.’ Briony had locked eyes with her sister then, and Bex had laughed again.
‘Come on then, let’s see what we can do. Although, unless MrsBainbridge is incredibly short-sighted, I don’t rate our chances of passing off cherry tomatoes as stoned cherries!’
By the third week of her stay, reliving their memories with Bex’s three boys had become an almost daily occurrence. Merlin had settled into the family home well too, getting along like a house on fire with the collies, Marge and Betty, whose space and beds he’d happily invaded. Tristan seemed to be at the house a lot too and, when Bex had commented on it, Matt had responded with a wry smile.
‘I think we all know why that is.’ He’d looked in Briony’s direction and dropped a perfect wink. The idea that Tristan might be there more often because of her had given Briony a warm glow, but she couldn’t let herself get too used to all of this.It’s not forever, those had been her sister’s words, and she had to remember them.
It was now the Sunday of her third week and the whole family were gathered around the table for dinner, Tristan included, as well as Donna and Ken. Merlin had his head on Briony’s leg beneath the table, and she wanted to freeze the moment, but life didn’t work like that. Instead, she was trying to just enjoy this time, even the bickering between her two youngest nephews.
‘He’s got a bigger bit of brownie than me.’ Tom cast an envious glance at the piece of brownie Ollie had just lifted on to his plate from the dish in the centre of the table.
‘You’ll just have to be a bit quicker next time, Tom,’ Matt said. ‘But you never know your luck, there might even be enough for seconds.’
‘I tried to grab that bit, but Ollie pushed my hand out of the way.’ Tom was clearly in no mood to be appeased.
‘I think your Auntie Briony might have a tip for you in future.’ Bex looked in her direction, and she wasn’t sure what her sister was talking about for a moment, but then she continued. ‘Do youremember the glazed doughnuts that Ken brought back from that trip he went on to America, just after he met Mum?’
‘Oh my God, I’d forgotten about that.’ Briony grimaced, but Ken was already laughing.
‘None of the rest of us have.’
‘What did you do?’ Tom was looking directly at Briony and there was no getting out of it.
‘Your grandad had brought me and your mum some Krispy Kreme doughnuts back from the airport in New York. You couldn’t get them in this country back then and we were desperate to try them. There were all kinds of flavours, but there was only one chocolate glazed one in the box. We both wanted it, so grandad suggested we toss a coin, but when your mum won, I just couldn’t help myself.’ She paused for a moment, colouring slightly as she caught Tristan’s eye. ‘So I gave the doughnut the sort of lick that Merlin would have been proud of, because I knew that your mum wouldn’t want it any more after that.’
‘Eww, gross.’ Ollie announced, wrinkling his nose, his younger brother nodding along.
‘Yeah, but I bet it worked.’
‘It certainly did,’ Bex agreed. ‘But your Auntie Briony felt so guilty that she insisted I have all the other doughnuts, instead of sharing the box between us.’
‘It’s proof that crime doesn’t pay.’ Briony shrugged as she looked at her nephews, before turning towards Tristan as he spoke.
