Christmas Wishes Read Online Free PDF Page B

tell her what you want, and ask her what you’re to buy.’
    Alex had felt uneasy about asking such a big favour from someone he did not know well, but when he had seen a small box of chocolates in a shop window and found he had exactly the right number of coupons with which to purchase it, he decided fate was taking a hand. Armed with the chocolates he felt he could approach Mrs Clarke, so on his way back from the corner shop he had knocked on her front door.
    It had only occurred to him that she might think the chocolates were a bribe when he heard footsteps approaching, and so embarrassed had he been by the realisation that she might be insulted by his offering that he had turned and walked away. He had been heading for his own home, hot-faced and feeling as guilty as though he really had been about to offer a bribe, when he had heard the patter of feet on the pavement behind him and felt a hand on his arm. He had swung round, meaning to explain that he had knocked on her door by mistake, but it had proved unnecessary. The little woman had broken into hasty speech. ‘Oh, Mr Lawrence, I’ve been trying to catch you, but you’re such a busy person! I remember how it was when my dear Cyril was alive, so I do understand that you’ve not much spare time, but a little bird told me …’ she had looked coyly up at him, her rosy face growing even rosier, ‘a little bird told me that your girls are coming home at the end of the week and I was wondering if you could do wi’ a bit of a hand, like?’
    Alex had drawn a deep, ecstatic breath; he had dreaded having to ask a favour and here she was, offering him help as a matter of course. He had let out his breath in a long whistle of relief. ‘Phew! I meant to come and ask you if you might do some baking for me – I’d pay for it, of course – but it seemed a lot to ask, so I bought a box of chocolates, only after I’d knocked your door it occurred to me …’
    ‘It occurred to you that I might think you were trying to pay me in advance,’ Mrs Clarke had said, beaming up at him and taking the chocolates Alex was proffering. ‘Thanks very much, Mr Lawrence. I shall enjoy these, if Dilly don’t get at them first! I’ve a sweet tooth, so you needn’t have been afraid I’d turn hoity-toity on you and refuse to accept them. However, anyone round here will tell you I’d be happy to help and ask no payment. I enjoy cooking almost as much as I enjoy eating, so you’ll be doing me a favour, not vice versa. If you tell me what you want, I’ll get the ingredients and bring you a bill so’s you can see I’ve spent what I said I would. Now, will you come back to my house whilst we talk baking, or would you feel more at ease in your own place?’ She had twinkled up at him. ‘If you come to mine, I’ll make you a cup of tea and you can sample my work, ’cos just before I come out I’d taken a batch of almond tarts out of the oven and stood ’em on the windowsill to cool. Course, I didn’t use real ground almonds ’cos they’re difficult to find, but almond essence does nearly as well. Folk tell me my almond tarts are good, but you must judge for yourself.’
    Alex had gone back to the end house and for the first time in ages someone else made him a cup of tea, buttered a scone for him and then presented him with a pretty floral plate upon which reposed two delicious-looking almond tarts. ‘This is prime,’ he had said to his hostess as, cup in hand, she had sat down opposite him. He had looked around the kitchen, which was a replica of his own so far as size went but bore all the signs of loving care which his own, he knew ruefully, lacked. ‘When Biddy was alive … but no use to look back. Only I suppose I’ve let things slide, what with the girls being away and myself more often at the fire station than not …’
    Mrs Clarke had nodded sympathetically. ‘I remember how it was when the war started. I worked in a factory making munitions, only after Cyril died