Short Story Preview: The Christmas Fare
Cynthia Gormley-Smythe’s meringues were her pride and joy. Neither too chewy nor too crunchy, they fitted the bill to perfection: white clouds of mixed sugar and eggs. Cooked to a tee and arranged on large decorative plates, they were manna from heaven.
No-one could compete with Cynthia. No-one dared.
Dorothy Honey, the vicar’s wife, was in charge of the cakes for the Christmas fare. Handed in to the vicarage the day before, they were placed on the dining room table waiting to be priced.
Mrs Smith, the organist’s wife, pronounced her sandwich sponge to be every bit as good as Mrs Jones’s chocolate sponge, and would Mrs Jones mind telling her how many eggs went into the mixture. Three small? Oh dear me! Hers had four large. That merited a higher price than Mrs Jones’s cake, surely.
Dorothy Honey and members of The Mother’s Union spent the evening removing sticky labels, replacing sticky labels and tearing up sticky labels. All in the name of keeping the peace.
The cakes varied in size and variety. Cup cakes went down well with the younger shoppers who would eat them on the hoof. The richer fruit cakes went down well with the older parishioners who were no longer up to making their own Christmas cakes. But Cynthia Gormley-Smythe’s meringues were the highlight. They were placed at the front of the trestle table for all to see, admire and buy.
Read more about Jane and buy Tea at the Opalaco and other Stories to continue the storyShare