3
Tom Jarvis carriedthe stack of dirty dishes to the sink, amazed at how much mess a nine-year-old could make thanks to a spot of baking. His kitchen looked like a bomb had hit it.
He’d thought that whipping up a batch of fairy cakes would be easy enough. Baking was Evie’s latest obsession, and he was happy to indulge it. He just hadn’t counted on how many bowls and utensils would be used, not only to measure and mix the cake batter but also for the decorative icing.
They’d only just cleared away the first batch of dirty dishes when it was time for the cakes to come out of the oven and Evie had told him they had to prepare three different batches of coloured icing, in pink, yellow, and blue.
Once they’d poured icing onto the cooled fairy cakes—and all over the kitchen table too, as it turned out—Evie had swung into action adding decorative sprinkles in an array of lurid colours. While some of the sprinkles had landed on target on the icing, a vast quantity was also scattered on the table and the floor.
Tom reckoned he’d be hoovering up shards of sparkly sugar shapes for the next month, at least.
“The fairy cakes look amazing!” Evie said, admiring her work while Tom stood at the sink scraping icing sugar off the multiple spoons deployed during the messy process.
Seeing the huge smile on Evie’s face made the piles of washing up worth it.
“You did a great job with your icing work, kiddo,” Tom said.
“Except for all the sprinkles I spilled everywhere,” Evie said, frowning at the mess still waiting to be wiped from the tabletop.
“There’s a knack to it. Keep practising and you’ll figure out the best way to tackle that part of the process.”
Evie gave a solemn nod, then brightened again as she looked back at the array of fairy cakes. “Can I take some home for Mum and Martin?”
“Of course. You don’t think I could eat all these cakes on my own, do you?”
“Maybe. They are very delicious, Tom. I think I’m turning into a great baker, don’t you?”
Tom laughed, amused by Evie’s sweet pride in her work. And why shouldn’t she be proud? The cakes did taste good, and she had an artistic flair for the decorative work, even if some refinement and tightening of technique were required to cut down on the mess.
“Youareturning into a great baker, kiddo,” Tom agreed. Drying his hands, he walked to the cupboard and found a plastic storage box. “Use this to take some cakes home for your mum and Martin. Make sure you choose the nicest ones to share with them.”
Evie turned her attention to selecting the best cakes from the cooling rack. “Mum might not want to eat any cakes, though. She says she’s on a diet until the wedding, in case she can’t fit into her wedding dress.”
Tom stifled a laugh. He doubted very much that there was any chance Lucy would fail to fit into her wedding dress, thanksto her willowy frame, but he also knew that the closer it got to the big day, the more nervous the bride-to-be was getting. Whenever he talked to Lucy on the phone to arrange to pick up Evie for her regular visits, she updated him on the wedding arrangements and her mounting nerves about everything.
“I’m sure one tiny fairy cake won’t stop her getting into her wedding dress,” Tom told Evie. “What’s her dress like, anyway?”
A thoughtful look crossed the child’s face. “It’s pretty.Verypretty. But maybe I shouldn’t tell you about the details in case it ruins the big surprise for all the guests.”
“That seems fair.”
“And Grandma said its bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding. So maybe it’s bad luck for the bridesmaid totalkabout thedressbefore the wedding, too.”
Tom took a moment to process this logic. The bizarre twists and turns that occurred inside Evie’s head as she thought about things never failed to amuse him.
“I don’t think it’s bad luck for you to talk about your mother’s wedding dress, kiddo.”
“But maybe it’s bad luck to talk about it withyou.”
Tom noticed now the tender look in Evie’s eyes and realised the little girl was trying to spare his feelings. The realisation sent a punch of emotion straight through his heart.
If Evie was his own flesh and blood, he couldn’t love this sweet, smart and wise-beyond-her-years child any more than he already did.
“Why would it be bad luck to talk about your mother’s wedding dress with me?” he asked gently.
Evie gave a soft shrug. “Because you and Mum used to be together. Maybe if I talk about her wedding dress with her ex-boyfriend, it will jinx things with Martin. And I like Martin.”
Tom sat down beside Evie at the kitchen table. “I like him too, kiddo. And nothing you can say would ever jinx things between your Mum and Martin, okay?”
