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

scarlet cranberry filling and a beautiful Christmas cake, covered in a blanket of white icing. It was stacked with white champagne truffles and dotted with tiny white Christmas roses. How different everything had been less than eight hours before when I’d carefully placed those sugar roses on top.
    ‘Our bakery is like an angel, Mummy,’ Jacob said, his eyes shining.
    ‘Yeah... I reckon she’s our angel,’ I sighed, and we both stood for a few seconds in the snow just staring.
    ‘Is Daddy an angel now?’
    I looked down at him. We didn’t talk about Steve enough; I found it too painful.
    ‘Yeah... Daddy’s our angel, he’s up there watching over us,’ I said, looking up into the snow-heavy night sky, my throat burning with the threat of tears.
    I stroked Jacob’s head and he smiled. He seemed pleased and grabbed my hand with his sturdy little gloved one.
    ‘Come on,’ I said, trying to be ‘happy’, trying desperately not to think for a few minutes about Tamsin or Steve. I had to concentrate on my son, he needed me too.
    ‘Come on Jacob, I’ll race you,’ I suddenly yelled and we both shot through the snow up the side path to the little flat above the bakery, laughing and panting as we landed at the door.
    Once inside I couldn’t help it, I phoned to check on Tamsin. She sounded a little spaced out and I wasn’t sure if it was shock or sherry, but she said she’d be okay.
    ‘Come over first thing,’ she said. ‘If Simon doesn’t come back, I’m not staying here on my own. I don’t care if I’ve got two weeks grace, I’m not sitting here waiting for them to come and throw me out. Those bastards have left a big medieval sign on the window saying something about my chattels and announcing to the whole of Chantray Lane what has happened... I am mortified.’
    ‘Oh Tam that’s awful, I can collect you now if you like?’ I offered, hating to think of them all there. I knew what the residents of Chantray Lane were like and I doubted anyone would turn up to offer any kind of comfort, but they would all read that bailiff sign with relish.
    She continued to insist she was fine. ‘I won’t hear of you coming out at night in this. It’s snowing again – look after my nephew, he needs you too, I’ll see you tomorrow.’
    I put down the phone and half-smiled. Despite her bluster and ‘posh lady of the manor’ act, Tamsin was all heart and in her hour of need still considered me and Jacob. I sometimes felt unworthy of her – she’d always supported me, throughout my childhood she’d been there. And after Steve’s death she’d held me in her arms and let me cry until I had no more tears left.
    We were such different people, my sister and I; she was obsessive, materialistic, she cared how things looked, what people thought and she had this need to belong. I found that quite heartbreaking, because underneath the brittle, designer-clad exterior she was as vulnerable as a child. Tamsin’s caring nature could be a little claustrophobic for me and I’d seen the bakery as my stab at independence. It was my chance to build a future for me and Jacob. After tonight’s drama at The Rectory it was clear we had some heartache ahead but whatever happened I had to keep focussed on my own life too. If I was going to be of any use to Tamsin I needed to keep things together, especially the bakery. If business continued the way it had been we were in for a very successful first year, but only if I could keep things on track.
    I’d always been the barefoot younger sister to Tamsin’s soaring stiletto success – but I was proud of what I was achieving and that I could be there for my sister. Jacob and I sat by the fire toasting bread on our forks, and as the toast turned crispy golden, I wondered if perhaps this was finally my chance to be there for Tamsin?
    Sitting with mugs of cocoa and our toast now browned, I dragged my thoughts away from her plight temporarily to give Jacob some attention. Tamsin was