The Sweethearts Collection. Pam Jenoff
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a normal grocery store before.’ Colenso’s spirits soared. For all her hoity-toity ways, it seemed Miss Chenoweth was just an assistant, the same as her.
‘Well, that’s a turn-up for the books,’ she grinned.
‘Might I say how attractive you look in that new outfit. Knew that colour would bring a bloom to your cheeks. It were a good day Garren took you on,’ he winked. ‘Oh, and he told me to let you know breakfast is ready.’ Colenso smiled as he shuffled down the street towards the seafront. Not having to help out in the workshop had already done wonders for his well-being.
The day sped by in a flurry of serving customers, replenishing the little jars, and tidying up. Before she knew it, she was preparing for her first proper lesson in sweet-making.
‘The fundamental thing to remember is that time is money,’ Garren told her, his hazel eyes serious. ‘A sweetshop proprietor needs to keep up with demand or he’ll never turn a profit and, believe you me, the margins are small to start with. Ingredients are too expensive to waste. Might seem obvious, but if you really want to learn how things are done, you need to start with the basics.’
‘I’m interested in every single detail,’ she told him. ‘Mammwynn used to say magical results come from mundane beginnings.’
‘Sounds a wise woman,’ he nodded. ‘Right, as you know, as the mixture cools it firms and so you need to work quickly before it sets. Therefore, it pays to set out all your ingredients and have your equipment ready before you begin. Tonight, we are making lemon drops, one of the easiest confections, as the acid helps prevent crystals forming in the hot liquid. It’s still important to start over a low heat to give the sugar a chance to fully dissolve.’ Colenso watched as he stirred, helping him wash down the sides of the pan when it reached the boil. Once he’d transferred the pan to the heatproof mat he turned to her and smiled.
‘Right, now you can add the colouring and flavouring.’ Excitement bubbled as she reached for the two little bottles he’d selected. ‘A couple of drops of each at most,’ he told her, brows furrowed in concentration as he watched her pour. ‘That’s enough, too much and the taste will be overpowering.’ Picking up the copper, he poured the lemon mixture onto the cooling table and turned it with a knife a couple of times. ‘Right, it’s beginning to hold its shape so you can knead and fold it over. Good,’ he said as soon as Colenso felt it stiffen.
‘Oh, it’s turning opaque,’ she exclaimed.
‘It’s ready then,’ he said, forming it up into a sausage shape and throwing it over the hook on the wall. ‘Now we stretch it to incorporate the air.’ She watched in fascination as he pulled it, threw it back over the hook and repeated the process. ‘And now for the shaping,’ he said, taking the elongated sausage and feeding it into the press. He turned the handle and her eyes widened as it came out the other end looking like a flat worm. ‘See those indentations?’ he asked. ‘Well, start snapping them apart. That’s it,’ he nodded as the yellow mixture broke into sweet-shaped lozenges. ‘All we do now is leave them to harden completely before packing them away into jars.’
‘I suppose you can leave them overnight to do that,’ she said.
‘You would think so, wouldn’t you?’ he replied, eyes twinkling with mischief. ‘However, one must never presume, Miss Carne. Because sugar, even in this form, absorbs moisture from the atmosphere, it is imperative the sweets are stored in airtight containers as soon as they are completely cold.’
‘Oh,’ she said, feeling stupid.
‘I would rather you asked questions and voiced opinions, Colenso, for that is the only way to learn. It also means you have been paying attention.’ His grin was so infectious she found herself smiling back. ‘Now let’s have a cuppa while we’re waiting. I always put water on to boil once the mixture has come off the heat. Efficient use of energy, see?’
‘Oh, excuse me,’ she said, trying to stifle a yawn.
‘Would you would prefer to retire? It has been a long day,’ he said, glancing at the clock.
‘A cup of tea would be most welcome,’ she replied. ‘I didn’t realize making sweets was such thirsty work.’
‘That’ll be the fumes from the colouring. I did say they were potent,’ he grinned, pouring water into the teapot on the little round table. ‘I must say you looked as though you enjoyed your sweet-making session.’
‘I did,’ she agreed, then took a welcome sip of her drink. ‘In fact, I can’t wait to do it again.’
‘Good, for tomorrow we shall be making barley-sugar twists and sugar-glass plate. It can get a bit steamy with two coppers on the boil so I hope you won’t mind.’
‘Mind? Why should I mind?’ she frowned.
‘Some women worry about their hair getting frizzed,’ he said, his eyes clouding.
‘Well, I’m just pleased mine is growing back,’ she said without thinking. ‘Oh, and of course, my scarf protects it,’ she added quickly. He was quiet as he poured them more tea.
‘Tell me a bit about yourself, Colenso,’ he invited. ‘Do you have any followers?’
‘I don’t think so,’ she replied. ‘I mean, I did but he didn’t pursue things so …’ she shrugged.
‘More fool him, if I might be so bold,’ he smiled, reaching out and patting her hand. ‘Sorry,’ he apologized. ‘Truth to tell, I feel comfortable in your company, even … well, something I haven’t felt for many a long year.’ She stared at him curiously but he changed the subject. ‘Well, those sweets are ready for packing. No, I’ll do it,’ he said as she jumped to her feet. ‘You’ve done enough for one day.’
✳
The next weeks followed a similar pattern and Colenso revelled in her new work. She was getting to know the customers, even predicting what some wanted as soon as they entered the shop. Garren was generous in his teaching and she was enjoying learning how all the sweets were made. She felt comfortable in his presence and an easy relationship formed between them, often ending with them sharing a cuppa at the end of the long day. Mr Goss senior, relieved to be free from the burden of working, took himself off to play cards or dominos with his friends and no longer appeared in the workshop.
One morning as Colenso was preparing the shop for opening, Garren appeared looking serious.
‘Do you realize it’s December next week?’ he asked.
‘Really? Goodness,’ she gasped, for in truth the days were passing so quickly she’d lost track of them. Is something wrong with those?’ Colenso asked, seeing him frowning at jars in the window.
‘Not as such. I was just thinking we’ll need to make some special sweetmeats in preparation for Christmas. Miss Chenoweth told me earlier she was surprised we hadn’t changed our window display. Apparently, the other confectioners in the town are already advertising their seasonal treats.’
‘Well, I suppose it does make sense to start planting ideas in the children’s minds. Reel them in with irresistible creations, remind them Father Christmas will soon be coming,’ she grinned, getting quite carried away with the idea.
‘Mother used to say the same,’ he admitted. ‘And she was a dab hand at making red and green streamers to hang everywhere.’
‘I’d be happy to decorate the shop,’ Colenso volunteered, remembering how Mammwynn used to love festooning her little cottage with holly, ivy and fir cones.
‘Would you?’ he replied, his expression lightening. ‘I’m afraid I don’t have much spare cash but I’m sure there are some scraps of green and red material upstairs. I’ll have a look later. First though, I need to post some letters. After which I might just take a detour and see what the competition’s up to,’ he chuckled. Once again, she couldn’t help thinking how much younger he looked when he smiled.
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