I can’t quite remember why I decided to make scones for the English conversation class this morning; we weren’t doing a topic on baking or English high tea, or anything remotely to do with scones… but I got up early, made some scones, found some home-made raspberry jam from last year’s harvest and took them and some butter to the class.
Maybe I was reminded of scones because in my story The Double Act, Genet and her husband Lance are going through a tricky time. They have just opened a small hotel which Genet runs while Lance continues to teach drama at the local tech. He makes her cross by buying an expensive new computer which they really can’t afford and then telling their tenant Dr Herrick all about it, while Genet is trying to get ready for some guests who will be arriving later. She has her own difficulty with Dr Herrick but it would give the game away if I told you about that!
“This is the man to ask about computers, Gen, he’s writing a book,” exclaimed Lance, clearly impressed.
“About computers, fascinating. You’re going to have to move, Lance, I’m making biscuits.”
“No not about computers. Make us some scones, Gen, it only takes you five minutes, go on, I’m starving and I bet Joe is too, aren’t you?”
Genet glanced in surprise at Dr Herrick, surely Joe was a nick-name? He looked up at her and unexpectedly winked.
“You haven’t tasted Gen’s scones, Joe, you wait,” Lance was not going to be deterred, Genet knew. “Oh and Gen, I was talking to Gawain this morning about Dad and Judith’s anniversary party. I said we’d have it here next week… I said we’d do the food as our present to them.” Genet stared at her husband astounded. When would she have time to organize a party for the McCauley clan? Lance was unaware of the effect of this bombshell on her and continued his conversation. “So go on, what were you saying about your computer.”
Furious but unable to argue in front of their guest, it took Genet twenty minutes to rub the butter into the flour, add the milk and dried fruit, cut the scones and cook them. She put butter and raspberry jam on the table and Lance raided the fridge for clotted cream despite her protests.
“Good, aren’t they?” Lance was proud of her, smiling fondly for virtually the first time since the stupid phone-call. “And Gen made the jam, she didn’t churn the butter but, I bet she could if she wanted, though!” he kissed her with sticky lips and Genet forgave him everything.
Lois Elsden 