Page 11 of The Cake Fairies
Amber Magnolia held up two polaroid pictures. Polly spurted out her tea. Annabelle squinted to get a closer look.
“Exhibit A is Phil, exhibit B, Trev. Both are now happily married to two other ladies, two children apiece, and living in Australia in the sunshine. They now have a few extra wrinkles, a couple of grey hairs, and one of them sports a spare tyre to boot – but they’re no less delectable for it. I’d have left you to iron out the finer details of who picked whom. God only knows how many tears of sorrow I shed for you both that year.”
Polly tried to talk but her words stuck to the roof of her mouth. Annabelle dabbed at the tea dribble on her chin with a handkerchief and whistled one of those car salesman-style whistles, weighing up the photos.
“Too late for regrets.” Amber Magnolia shook her head vigorously, ripped the beautiful pictures in two and tossed them over her shoulder, leaving both women speechless. “Then there was the evening you turned down a double date with the only remaining male singletons in the village.”
“Jim and… B… Bob?” Polly ventured shakily. It was she who’d declined the invite, despite Annabelle trying to convince her it might be fun, that if nothing else they could be friends, and secure bargain prices for the flour their parents’ mill provided for the area.‘But who names their children Jim and Bob?’Polly had sneered, way back when.‘Just how redneck can you get?’
“Well, I’m sorry,” she added now, as if defending her case in a courtroom. “But those brothers couldn’t have looked more like a couple of fat rascals if they’d tried. It’s not that I judge a book – or a cake – by its cover, and I certainly don’t profess to be Princess Margaret in the looks department, but sometimes you do have to draw the line. We’d never have lived it down if somebody had seen us.”
Amber Magnolia shook her head, a wistful expression glazing her features. “The trick you missed there, though, dear Polly, is that sometimes when we say yes a little more often than a straight out no, the universe conspires to deliver us the goodies in a roundabout, tangential way, through a completely unexpected channel. Jim and Bob, I agree, were a little more Dali and a lot less Gainsborough; that said, beautyisin the eye of the beholder. But those cherry and currant-studded rock cakes, as you so aptly refer to them, wouldonlyhave taken you to the pictures; en route their car wouldonlyhave broken down, and you’donlyhave metThe Beatles– who just happened to be driving along the back roads of Somerset incognito on their way to a gig. I won’t disclose the details that would have ensued. That would be rubbing it in a little too much. Suffice to say, neither of you would have had to lift a finger for the rest of your lives.”
A strange sensation washed over Annabelle. This was like one of those out-of-body experiences. Surely they were marooned in some kind of dream or parallel universe, and it was only a matter of time before she found herself sitting bolt upright in bed laughing at this absurd, psychedelic dream – the kind you have when you’ve eaten too much Cheddar cheese, or smoked something dodgy at Glastonbury festival. She pinched herself hard on the arm in a bid to wake up, but nothing happened.
“Ludicrous,” Polly spat, after a somewhat delayed reaction. “I might buy the polaroid story, though quite why you had to tear those dreamboats to pieces, I really don’t know. The memento of ‘what if’ would’ve been nice. ButThe Beatles?Really?You’re nothing but a con artist. The sooner my cousin and I get ourselves out of here and back to the sanity of Middle Ham, the better. Come on, Annabelle, we’re going. I’d rather sit on the big wheelall nightthan listen to this codswallop.” Polly grabbed her bag and hoisted Annabelle to her feet. How her quivering knees didn’t give way beneath her then, she’d never know.
“Wait.” Annabelle struggled to free her hand and her words. “Let’s give her the benefit of the doubt. Who knows what we might learn?”Whether we are stuck in another dimension or not.
Amber Magnolia, unmoved by the scene playing out before her, continued to drink her tea, minding her own business. But, despite Annabelle’s protests, Polly’s strength knew no limits. She dragged her cousin from the edge of her seat to the tent’s entrance. Only to find it had completely disappeared.
“What the… where the…?”
Polly spun three-hundred-and-sixty degrees, then patted frantically around with her hands, digits splayed and desperately seeking their escape. In any other situation, Annabelle might have giggled at her cousin’s comedic attempts to play mime artist. All that was missing was the black beret. But, much as she wanted to take the evening’s revelations home with her, witnessing Polly in so much distress was absolute torture.
“This can’t be right!” Polly cried, and then, “Oh, I get it. We’re in one of those magician-style props, aren’t we? Very funny! Well, you’ll just have to let me in on your magic circle secret,Amber Magnolia… before I call the police. Yes, that’s what I’ll do, so don’t test me. There’s a phone box not far from this field. I’ll easily find a heavy-duty fairground worker to keep you under tent arrest until the blues and twos show up.”
“Save yourselves the bother,” Amber Magnolia chirruped lightly in the background. “All of this is for your own benefit, as Annabelle’s already twigged. There are millions who’d trade places for the magical mystery tour I’m about to pack you off on.”
Annabelle’s heart regained its canter. What in the heck was that supposed to mean? She turned her head little by little, beads of sweat dotting her brow, until she was facing the woman behind the table again. But Amber Magnolia’s expression was too kind, too caring to screw anybody over. Instinctively Annabelle knew that she simply didn’t have it in her.
“Look, I really think you need to let us go,” she pleaded. “Under another set of circumstances, for instance if I were here without my cousin,” Annabelle said, gesturing to Polly, who was now on her hands and knees, clawing at the floor as though it might reveal a secret passage to Australia. “Well, I’d be interested in what you have to say.”
“What I have to say is for both of you.”
“Couldn’t you just let Polly outside for some fresh air and tell me? I promise I’ll pass the message on.”
“It doesn’t work like that, I’m afraid. I have a job to do. You’re in the wrong place, and I need to send you to the right one, quickly. Time’s running out.” Amber Magnolia shrugged, matter of fact. Now thathadto be a sign that she was in favour of Annabelle’s idea to open up a bakery in the town, if ever she’d seen one.
“Polly?” But Polly was still in a world of her own; a child on a make-believe mission, trying to find an exit.
“Polly, I command you to stop that!” said Annabelle.
Polly halted her animal-like activity, huddled on the floor, lowered her pale, crestfallen face and hugged her legs to her chest, before releasing an ugly queue of snivels. “I like the predictability of my life,” she finally whimpered. “Please don’t shake things up anymore. Losing my parents the way I did was more than enough drama for one lifetime, Amber,” she sniffed. “Magnolia.”
“Oh, Polly! I’d come over and hug you if I was the sort of woman who gave hugs. But what I can give you is my word: things will have a much happier ending this time, you’ll see,” the mystical woman said with a smile. “Why don’t we start over? And I’ll get straight to the point.”
