Snow Angels, Secrets and Christmas Cake by Sue Watson Read Free Book Online

evening was unpleasant. Simon’s mood had darkened and there was no way back. Tamsin had asked me to make Bûche de Noël for dessert (chocolate log to everyone else, but Tamsin thought a French name made it more posh) and I think she hoped it would save the night. But even my festive chocolate log couldn’t disperse the cloud of uneasiness hanging over the table. And when Simon threw his fork down in horror because it was ‘dry and bitter’, I could have pushed the log down his throat.
    Sometimes Tamsin let it slip that he’d upset her, but mostly she kept it from me – probably worried I might confront him. I noticed the dynamic quite early on in their relationship and later when Steve and I visited together he’d picked up on it too. I did broach it with her once or twice, but she was furious with me for pointing it out. Tamsin seemed to be constantly treading on eggshells, trying to keep Simon, the pressure cooker, from boiling over. There were times I dearly wanted to step in but knew it would affect mine and Tamsin’s relationship if I got involved because she loved him and typically wanted to deny anything negative about her husband or her marriage. I was torn between feeling protective of her and being angry with her for constantly trying to pretend everything was wonderful and constantly placating him, making him even worse.
    That night when the bailiffs had left, Tamsin was in pieces. She’d texted and called various friends and colleagues who apparently knew nothing about Simon’s whereabouts.
    ‘Where is he?’ she cried, through hiccoughing sobs. Pale and shaking, my sister’s whole life had just been pulled from under her and, like the rest of us, she could barely take it in.
    ‘What am I going to do?’ again, that question. My heart flinched, she was looking to me, but I felt useless and helpless. I shook my head and I saw the fear in her eyes, the desperation and disappointment of a shattered life, and felt so helpless.
    The first person I would call in a mess like this would be Tamsin and so, without her guidance, I hadn’t a clue. ‘It’s obviously some horrific mistake and Simon will turn up in the next few hours and sort it,’ I said, unconvinced. I put my arm around her and she nodded. ‘Why don’t you all come back to mine until he gets in touch?’
    ‘I can’t leave here,’ she said, panic rising in her voice. ‘He’ll come home. What if he’s trying to contact me...?’
    ‘He’ll call your mobile.’
    ‘No... he may turn up, I’m not going anywhere until I make sure he’s okay, Sam.’
    I hated leaving her like this, but after a couple of hours of shock and tears she seemed exhausted and still convinced Simon would come home later that night. I wasn’t so sure.
    Driving home, I tried to put everything to the back of my mind and chat to Jacob. My heart wasn’t really in it, but I wanted to pretend to both my son and myself that everything was okay.
    ‘We’re going to be so busy this Christmas at the bakery,’ I said, as much for my own comfort as his. The White Angel Bakery had been open for almost twelve months and this would be my first proper Christmas in business. Ironically, for the first time in five years, I’d actually been looking forward to Christmas rather than dreading it, but now that had all changed, in an instant. Funny how your life can be going in one direction, future mapped out, happy, content – then suddenly everything you know and love is ripped away in seconds.
    I pulled the car up to the kerb as we arrived home, it was now evening and The White Angel Bakery was waiting like a twinkly fairy sitting in the snow. It seemed to be covered in icing sugar, glittering under the streetlamps, and I caught my breath at the sight. My heart filled with warmth and comfort at the lights glowing inside, welcoming me back to safety and sparkle. In the window were the cakes I’d baked earlier that day; snowy white frosted cupcakes, pure white macarons with a