Page 74 of A Brambleberry Manor Christmas
Who needs Noah, anyway, when my gorgeous Tavie is servingme Christmas lunch!
I walk into the kitchen, surprised to see that it’s actuallyquite tidy. But there’s no sign of fish fingers or chips. Or baked beans, forthat matter. But the table is set for two. There’s even a couple of wineglasses.Very hopeful, Tavie!
She hurries over to the oven and picks up the oven gloves.
‘Sit down,’ she orders, and intrigued, I do as I’m told.
‘Flo said to keep it warming in the oven until I was readyto serve.’
‘Flo? When did you talk to her?’
She grins, nodding at her mobile on the bench. ‘I’ve got ahot line to Flo. She’s been talking me through it. She phoned the house whenyou were on your way to see her yesterday and I told her about my plans fortoday. She said she’d help.’
Bending to the oven, she brings out a large, decorativeplate that I’m certain won’t be oven-proof.
‘I didn’t know what to put the vegetables on, but I thoughtthis plate looked pretty enough for Christmas Day,’ she says, laying it down onthe table.
Picturing it burning a hole in my lovely birchwood table, Iquickly grab a large tablemat to push under the plate. ‘There. Perfect. Gosh,these look gorgeous.’
They really do. She’s roasted potatoes and carrots in theoven, and she’s even added sprigs of rosemary. The sprouts look lovely, too,garnished with bits of bacon.
My stomach rumbles loudly.
‘And now for the star of the show,’ announces Tavie,returning to the oven. And I watch in amazement as she brings out a beautifulroast turkey, all crisp and golden brown and smelling divine.
I spring out of my seat. ‘Oh, wow, Tavie, that looksamazing!’
She’s prodding it anxiously with a fork. ‘Do you think it’scooked properly?’
‘Well, we’ll just have to find out. Do you want to carvethis magnificent bird, or shall I?’
She produces the electric carving knife that’s been in itsbox at the back of the cupboard for years. ‘You can.’
So I do. And it’s perfectly cooked.
We sit down to a Christmas lunch that I totally wasn’texpecting, and I manage to reassure a worried Tavie that forgetting to makegravy is definitely not the end of the world.
‘This is amazing,’ I tell her, smiling from ear to ear.
‘Good.’ She blushes slightly. ‘I wanted it to be nice, tomake up for…well, everything.’
I raise my glass. Well, you’ve done that and more. HappyChristmas, my love.’
She smiles and raises her own glass of spritzer.
‘Happy Christmas, Jenny!’
*****
A condition of Tavie making our Christmas feast was that Ishould drive her over to see Amy later. So, after a lazy few hours watchingfestive TV together, Tavie goes off to her room to get ready.
I haul myself off the sofa to go and brush my teeth. And asI pass Tavie’s door, I hear her on the phone, giggling excitedly. ‘It’s goingto be so brilliant…yeah, I’ve managed to keep it a secret from Jenny. I can’twait.’
I pause outside her door, my heart beating faster.
What are they planning?
It can’t be something I’d approve of, if Tavie doesn’t wantme to know about it.
