The Recipe for Happiness
The whole block watches with curiosity as the new family moves into the second-floor flat. Its the household of the works manager from the local factory, an important employer in this small English market town.
Why on earth have they chosen one of these old flats? pensioner Nora Smith wonders aloud to her friends. With their contacts, Im sure they could have snapped up something modern in the new development.
Dont judge by yourself, Mum, replies her daughter, thirty-year-old single Emily, her face carefully made up. Why would they want something new? This is a classic Georgian buildinghigh ceilings, big, separate rooms, spacious hallway, and the balconys almost like another room. And they had a telephone line installed straightaway. Not everyone here has a phone, only three of us out of nine.
Youd spend your life on the phone if you could, Nora scolds her. The neighbours are tired of it already. Dont get any ideas about befriending the newcomers. Theyre serious, busy people.
They cant be that serioustheyre quite young, really. Their daughters only nine, and her names Sophie, Emily shoots back, affronted. Theyre pretty much my age, maybe five years older at most.
As it turns out, the neighbours are polite and friendly. Linda works at the school library, and Johns got a decades experience at the factory.
Emily shares all this gossip with the women who gather by the communal garden in the evenings, where her mother often sits.
How do you know all this already? the women tease. Honestly, you could be a prosecutor!
I just pop in to use their phone. They let me, unlike some, Emily hints, referring to the neighbours whove stopped answering the door, knowing shell have a marathon chat with her mate.
So Emily gets to know the new family, calling her friends and colleagues from their flat, never shy about her lengthy conversations. She pops round sometimes dressed up, sometimes in cosy dressing gowns, clearly seeking a friendship with the new couple.
One day, she notices John making a point of shutting the door to the lounge where hes watching TV as soon as she comes in. It happens again. Emily flashes Linda a smile and thanks her, popping her head round the kitchen after the call, but Linda simply nods, asking her to close the door behind her.
Cant help you there, Im covered in flour, Linda says, holding up her hands. And our locks a funny oneits French, it clicks shut automatically.
Oh, what are you making this time? More pastries? You always seem to be baking Ive never managed it myself, Emily remarks.
Yes, Im making cheese buns for breakfast. No time to bake in the morning, so Im prepping now, Linda smiles and turns back to her dough.
Emily scowls, leaving, disgruntled that Linda doesnt want to chat further.
Linda, I know its awkward to say no, John mentions later, but our phones always in use in the evenings. My mates cant ring. Its getting a bit much.
Ive noticed, Linda agrees. She just walks in and settles down as if its her house
That evening, Emily arrives again, glamorous and freshly made up, and settles herself in their hallway for another natter with her friend.
Emily, are you nearly done? Were expecting a call, Linda reminds her after ten minutes.
Emily nods, finishes quickly, and then brightens, pulling a chocolate bar from her pocket: I brought a treat! Shall we have tea, to celebrate our new friendship?
She heads to the kitchen, placing the chocolate on the table.
Oh, please put that away. If Sophie spots it, shell be desperate, but shes not allowedshe has allergies. Chocolates a no-go in our house. Im afraid no tea today. Sorry, but its a rule.
What? A rule? Emily blushes, Well, if thats how it is. I just wanted to thank you, thats all.
No need for thanks, and maybe dont drop in so often for calls. Unless you need the GP, an ambulance, or the fire brigadethats different, thats what neighbours are for, day or night. We understand. But please, no offence, Linda manages, Johns work rings, Sophie gets distractedshes doing her homework, and we try to keep things quiet.
Emily pockets the chocolate, leaving without a word. She cant fathom why Lindas so frosty, deciding her neighbour is simply jealous.
She realises Im younger and prettier than her, she explains to her mum. Thats all it isjealousy. I just wanted to be friendly, but she didnt even offer me tea!
Youre daft and stubborn, Nora sighs. Maybe I raised you wrong. Never force your way into someones homeyour calls are not wanted. Its not a free-for-all. Theyve shown you the door, and now youre wounded and going on about jealousy. Go find yourself a husband. Get your own telephone, let neighbours call round, and then you can be as friendly as you like.
Emily tries again with Linda, turning up one day with a notebook.
I came to ask for your cheese bun recipe. Its time I learned to bake. Ill jot it down and go try it tonight.
Best ask your mum; our parents knew all sorts, Linda says, surprised. But I cant help. I never measureI just know when its right. My hands remember what to do. She smiles, And Im in a rush, got to be somewhere. So, honestly try your mum.
Emily turns red and heads home. Of course, she knows her mum has an old, well-thumbed notebook stuffed in a kitchen cupboard, pages crammed with recipes for salads, pies, soupseven potted fish. Most of the baking pages date from when her mother used to bake every week.
But Emilys never really wanted to bake, and Noras given it up because of her blood pressure and weight.
Still, Emily fetches the notebook and, flipping indifferently, finds just the recipe she needs, which surprises her mum.
Youre actually planning on baking? Nora gasps.
Whys that so odd? Emily snaps the book closed, dog-earing the page.
Are things picking up with Sam again? her mum asks. I thought youd finished with him, just like the rest of your short-lived suitors.
Why should it be over? Emily huffs. Hell come running if I say the word.
Say the word, thentime you got married. What were you looking up, anyway? Might as well ask me.
No, says Emily, Im still just working up to it mentally.
But one evening, when her mum arrives home, the flat is filled with the warm smell of baking.
Well, I never! Wheres that lovely smell coming frompies? Nora exclaims. You must be in lovenothing else could explain this!
Keep your voice down, Emily grins. Come and try one. Not piescheese buns. Homemade, too. Proper English ones.
The kettles on, cups are out, teapot ready, a plate of golden cheese buns beaming like little suns.
Youve not lost your touch, her mum says. We used to bake together, but I thought youd forgotten. These are brilliant, Em.
Be honestare they actually good, or are you just being nice? Emily asks.
Youve got a tongue in your head, just taste! Its perfectly edible, Nora laughs.
Emily remembers her late father, and realises its the same rare compliment he used to give: Edible. Thats as good as it gets.
Right, then. Ill invite Sam round for tea and cheese buns soon. Reckon hell like them?
Oh, for sure. Thats how I won your father over! He adored theseand me for making them. Bake away, invite him round. Ill go to the neighbours for a film. About time you showed some sense. Men dont fall for just dresses and curls!
Soon, Sam starts dropping by Emilys flat. The laughter returns, they quarrel less, and Nora gets used to her daughter spending more time in the kitchen, often joined by Sam.
When Emily tells her mum that she and Sam have given notice at the registry office, Nora gets teary-eyedfinally, at last.
Emily changes, slimming down ahead of the big day. Sam teases, Youve stopped making cheese buns altogether! But will you bake for the wedding?
Before the weddingheld in their homeEmily, her mum, and Noras sister get busy cooking, preparing for the twenty or so expected relatives and friends.
The newlyweds settle into a large room in the shared family flat. The next year, all the neighbours finally get telephones. Emily is delighted, ringing everyone at first, but her calls become brief and to the point.
Sorry, Rita, must dashdoughs rising, and Sam will be home soon. Bye.
She hurries to the kitchen, where the dough is rising magnificently in the bowl. Emilys expecting their first child, due soon, but she cant sit stillshes still baking, eager to please her husband. She loves cheese buns with homemade cottage cheese as much as Sam does, and he cant get enoughproof that with a bit of warmth, a good recipe, and a welcoming home, happiness is just around the corner.
