Page 45 of Barging In
Victoria braced herself as she stacked slices of bread, ready to butter. “Confess away.”
“It was my mum who washed your jumper.”
That she wasn’t expecting. Although thinking about it, Clem didn’t strike her as the type of woman who knew the intricacies of caring for cashmere.
“Ah, I see. Won’t break a promise but will steal credit for someone else’s handiwork. I’m on to you,” Victoria said, prodding Clem with a cucumber.
“Hey,” Clem laughed, squirming away as she tried to open a packet of pastry. “Give mesomecredit. I fished it out of the canal, and I endured the stench whilst it soaked in my bathroom sink.”
“Then thank you. I will have to remember to thank your mum one day, too,” Victoria said, handing her a rolling pin.
“Mmm. Maybe shout it at her from a distance.”
Victoria chuckled as she peeled a layer of butter away from its container with her knife. “I gather your parents aren’t my biggest fans. Can I assume that’s due to me asking them to stop blocking the road?”
“That and they know why your jumper was in the canal. They might still be under the impression that youwere the one who tried to get me moved on. I should set them right.”
“Yes, please let them know I had nothing to do with it. If we’re going to be neighbours, I’d rather they didn’t believe I’m the she-devil who tried to sabotage their daughter’s business.”
“Even if I tell them, I can’t guarantee they’ll believe me,” Clem said, chuckling as she began rolling the pastry.
“I only wanted to get to work, but their van was in the way. Then I tried to make polite conversation.” Victoria snorted. “Big mistake.”
Clem’s amusement eased some of her discomfort with the situation. If she was laughing at her parents’ reaction to Victoria, then it couldn’t be all bad. Victoria was unlikely to see her neighbours often, so it hardly mattered.
They fell into a brief silence, busying themselves with their duties and instinctively working around each other. When Victoria found the silence too awkward, she broke it.
“So, are you going to tell me why your cakes are so good?”
“You expect me to divulge my secret recipes?” Clem asked, tilting her head playfully. “Planning to poach them, are you?”
Victoria recoiled in faux horror as she opened a packet of ham. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Baking is not my forte, so fear not, your secrets are safe with me.”
“Okay,” Clem relented, laying the sausage meat in long lines along the pastry. “Between you and me, the key is to keep it simple. Blend key flavours. People like their cake traditional, so don’t mess with it. Once you add the flour, don’t over-beat the mixture, and always weigh it into the pans before they go in the oven. Basic things, really, but they make all the difference. Oh, and I use Jersey butterwhere I can because it makes the cakes taste amazing and has a nice yellow colour. I think you noticed that.” Clem’s eyes sparkled with mischief.
“I might have,” Victoria admitted, biting her lip as she tried and failed to keep a straight face. “Where did your passion for baking come from?”
“Gram. My grandparents both died when my mum was young, so her aunt and uncle adopted her. I spent a lot of time with them when I was growing up. Gram loved to bake, and I loved cake, so we were a perfect match. She taught me everything I know.”
Clem fell into silence, her gaze drifting off into the distance. Victoria scrambled for the right words to respond with. As Clem began rolling the pastry around the sausage meat, something came to mind.
“It’s strange to think of you spending so much time next door another lifetime ago.” Feeling immediately foolish for saying aloud what should have been a private thought, she added, “Sorry. That sounded weird.”
Clem flashed her a warm smile as she cut the pastry into individual sausage rolls. “It wasn’t exactly a lifetime ago, but since I left university, work kept me away more than I would have liked. In recent years, after my great-uncle died, Mum and Dad would pick up Gram on their boat. We’d spend time pottering around the canals. They have a much bigger one than Florence and run it as a hotel. I think it was the only time she left the house in the last few years.”
“I never saw much of her. Renovating the house and the wharf kept me fairly occupied.”
Clem pulled a wry face. “Shame. She was the best.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t get to know her,” Victoria mused. She tucked that regret away alongside so many others.
With the sausage rolls in the oven, Victoria set Clem to work layering egg mayonnaise onto the bread.
“This party seems pretty important to you,” Clem said softly.
“It is. It’s the wharf’s first birthday. Everything has to go well. At this rate, it could be a farewell party rather than a celebration.”
“Are things really that bad?”
