The Sweethearts Collection. Pam Jenoff
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‘Right, that’s it, we’re away to the dairy now,’ she said, picking up the heavy pan and carrying it outside.
Back in the dairy, the woman tilted the pan and poured the mixture quickly into the prepared tins. Taking up a knife, she spread it evenly then tapped each one on the surface.
‘This releases any bubbles,’ she explained, seeing Colenso’s puzzled look. ‘Right, all done. Just got time for a wee cup before we need to score the surface.’
Once she knew Colenso wasn’t a threat, Caitlin proved to be entertaining company, and by the time Jago returned, the tablet was set, cut into pieces and wrapped in muslin.
‘So how did you find the redoubtable Mrs Manning?’ Jago asked as they rejoined the road to Bodmin.
‘She was fine once she knew I didn’t have any desires on your affections,’ Colenso replied truthfully.
‘You don’t?’ he asked, raising his brows enquiringly.
‘Of course not. You’re much too old,’ she grinned.
‘Oh, how you wound a man,’ he cried, theatrically slapping his hand to his chest.
‘Mrs Manning certainly desires you, though.’ When he didn’t answer, she changed the subject. ‘At least I got my first lesson in sweet-making.’
‘Ah, now you’re talking my language, woman,’ he quipped. ‘So what’s her secret receipt?’ he asked, looking serious.
‘Receipt?’ she frowned. ‘I don’t know, Caitlin had already mixed everything by the time I’d got back from greasing the pans.’
‘The first rule of sweet-making is to gather as many receipts as possible. That’s how my grandmother started,’ Jago told her, trying to keep his voice calm. ‘Can you remember what ingredients she used?’
‘There was milk and cream in the kitchen, oh and a big cone of sugar,’ she said excitedly.
‘All confections contain sugar,’ Jago groaned. ‘Oh well, it’s my fault for not having mentioned it earlier. In future, remember the golden rule.’
‘Yes, Jago,’ she replied.
‘We’ll soon be in Bodmin so you might as well sit back and enjoy the rest of the ride.’
They had left the moorland behind, and Colenso stared in fascination at the fields that were rectilinearly partitioned and looked like a gigantic patchwork quilt.
‘I need to stop in the town and buy a card,’ Colenso said as they approached the outskirts and the horse laboured up the long slope.
‘The fair is on the west side before we enter the town itself and I daren’t make a detour in this heat or my stocks will melt.’
‘But I need to send one,’ she told him, frowning as they veered off the road and bumped their way down a track towards the field.
‘Don’t worry, we’ll be here for quite a few days so you’ll have plenty of opportunity. My, it’s busy already,’ he said, nodding to where stalls had already been erected. ‘And look, there’s Mara’s little tent over by the graveyard. Don’t know how she manages to find one, but she always does. No, not yet,’ he said, putting out his hand as Colenso made to climb down. ‘We’ll find out where your kumpania are camped and I’ll deliver you to Mara’s door.’ She was about to protest, but when she saw the crowds of people, vans and wagons converging onto the field, changed her mind.
‘Wondered where you’d got to,’ Mara grunted as they drew up beside her van. She was sitting on the step and Colenso just knew she’d been waiting for them to arrive.
‘I’m going to check my stocks and set up the Panam, so I’ll see you later,’ Jago said as Colenso climbed down.
‘Do you need any help?’ she offered.
‘No ta,’ he replied. ‘All right, Mara?’ She nodded and went inside, leaving Colenso to follow.
‘Been having a tidy-up,’ the woman said, pointing to the hidey-hole Colenso had been sleeping in. It was now topped by a brightly coloured crocheted blanket and matching cushion.
‘Oh yes, so I see,’ Colenso frowned. Obviously, the others had been right and Mara wanted her own space back.
‘Don’t look like that,’ Mara said. ‘Stands to reason that now you’re wearing your own clothes, you won’t need to stay in there anymore.’
‘No, of course. I’ll go right away. Before I do though, I’d like to thank you for looking after me.’
‘Go? Where are you going?’ Mara cried, looking alarmed.
‘Well, obviously you want your van to yourself and …’
‘Fiddle. I might like my own company but you’ve still so much to learn about the countryside. Whilst I appreciate your love of the sea, it’s my duty to teach you about Mother Nature’s bounty, so you’ll make a good wife to that Kitto of yours. Now, kettle’s boiling, so stop talking rot and make us some tea.’ Relief rushing through her, Colenso nodded and hurried over to the stove.
‘I want to send Kitto a card as soon as I can,’ Colenso told her as she poured water over the leaves.
‘Good idea,’ Mara nodded.
‘I was wondering if I should send Mamm one too,’ she frowned.
‘Not a good idea,’ Mara said emphatically. ‘Could get into the wrong hands. I’m sure Kitto will let your mamm know you’re safe.’
‘Yes, of course,’ she replied, knowing what the woman said made sense.
‘I’ve finished setting up my tent, so we can walk into the town first thing tomorrow. The show here is a big one and when it gets going things become hectic.’ Once she’d poured the tea and settled on the bright cushion opposite Mara, Colenso asked the question that had been niggling her since the previous day.
‘Why are you looking after me like this?’
‘I took on the responsibility for you, and I’ve never been one to shirk my duties,’ Mara replied, sipping her drink. Not sure she liked being thought of as a duty, but knowing she had much to thank the woman for, Colenso held her tongue.
✳
Although they were up before dawn, the fair people were already getting things ready for the opening.
‘Morning, ladies,’ Titan called, appearing as if by magic as they stepped out of the van. ‘I hear we’re shopping this morning.’
‘Are you coming with us, then?’ Colenso asked, her eyes widening as he took the basket from her.
‘I am,’ he nodded. ‘And, if you don’t mind me saying, you look far better dressed as a woman.’
‘That’s because she is one,’ Mara snorted, making them smile. ‘Now, you can make yourself useful and tell Colenso something about this place. I’m trying to educate her, see.’
‘Right. Well, Bodmin boasts the county asylum, institutions, the gaol, the barracks …’
‘For goodness sake. Can’t you do better than that on this fine morning?’ Mara cried. But Colenso hardly heard her for her attention had been caught by the display in the shoemaker’s window. Right in the centre was a pair of red shoes adorned with silver buckles.
‘Bodmin is renowned for its shoe-making,’ Mara said, noticing her interest. ‘However, some are more practical than others.’
‘But they’re beautiful,’ Colenso cried.
‘And utterly frivolous. Now, I thought it was a card you wished to buy.’
‘Yes, of course,’ she replied as Titan darted her a sympathetic look. They walked past the shambles with all its butcher’s shops, and the fish