The Recipe for Happiness
The entire building looked on with curiosity as new tenants moved into the flat on the second floor. They were the family of Mr. William Chapman, a foreman at the local foundrya crucial establishment in our small, provincial English town.
And why have they chosen to settle in this old place? wondered Mrs. Edna Taylor, a retiree, as she chatted with her friends. With his connections, surely they could have gotten a flat in one of those shiny new estates.
Dont judge by your own standards, Mum, chimed in her daughter, thirty-year-old Charlotte, always brightly made up and still unmarried. Why would they want a new estate when ours is an old Victorian, with high ceilings, separate roomy chambers, a spacious hallway, and a balcony as big as a sitting room? Besides, they had the telephone installed right away; only three out of nine flats in our entire building have one
All you care about is gossiping on the phone, Edna reproved her, Youve tried the neighbours patience enough already. Dont you dare wander into that new familys homethose people are busy and respectable.
Theyre not so stuffy, really, Mum. Theyre youngtheir daughters only nine, called Emily, Charlotte retorted, with a glance at her mother. Were close in age, just five years difference perhaps.
The newcomers turned out to be polite and friendly sorts. Laura worked at the school library, while William had racked up a decade at the foundry.
Charlotte relayed all this as she joined the other ladies and her mother outside evenings, perched on their garden bench.
And how do you know all this already? the women teased her, Goodness, Charlotte, youd make a fine detective.
I pop over to use their phone. They dont mind, not like some others around here who dont open the door, knowing I might natter half an hour away with a friend.
Thus, Charlotte became acquainted with the new family, finding herself visiting often, whether to call friends or workmates, never shy about lingering on the line. Sometimes she arrived in smart new dresses, sometimes in homely dressing gownsclearly seeking friendship with Laura and William.
One day, she noticed William purposefully closing the sitting room door to watch television as soon as she arrived to make a call. Soon, this became routine. Charlotte would smile at Laura after each call and thank her with a peek into the kitchen, but Laura only nodded and would ask her to pull the door shut on her way out.
I cant close it behind memy hands are covered in flour, Laura would say, displaying her fingers, And our locks a bit trickyFrench, you see, it catches on its own.
Oh, what are you making? More tarts, perhaps? You always have something fresh baking. I dont know the first thing about it, Charlotte said admiringly.
These are cheese buns for breakfast, Laura would respond with a smile, turning back to her pastry. No time for baking in the morning, so I do it now.
Charlotte would wrinkle her nose and leave, piqued that the new family clearly wasnt eager to socialize with her further.
Listen, Laura, I know its not easy to tell her no, William said one evening, but our phone is always engaged in the evenings with Charlottes endless calls, and my mates cant get through. Its just not on.
I have noticed how familiar shes become, as if this were her own flat, agreed Laura.
The very same evening, Charlottedressed up and full of cheeragain settled on the hallway stool and started her chatter with a friend.
How much longer, Charlotte? Were expecting a call, Laura interrupted after ten minutes.
Charlotte nodded with understanding and hung up. Then, with a flourish, she pulled a chocolate bar from her coat and beamed:
Today, Ive brought treats! Let’s have some tea to celebrate our acquaintance.
She made straight for the kitchen and laid the chocolate down on the table.
Oh, no, please put it away. Emily mustnt see it, or shell be tempted, and she cant have sweetsterribly allergic. So Im afraid tea with chocolate is a no-go for us. Im sorryreally, dont take it amiss. But chocolate is off-limits in our house.
What? Off-limits? Charlotte flushed. Well, right then. I only meant to say thank you; it came from the heart.
No thanks are necessary, and if possible, could you avoid using the phone so often? Of course, if its the doctor, an emergency, or the fire brigadethats always fine, no matter the hour. We understand entirely. But please, dont be offended, Laura managed, William gets work calls, and Emily is distracted from her lessons by voices in the hall. We try to keep things peaceful.
Charlotte took back the chocolate, said nothing, and swept out. She couldnt understand the coldness and decided Laura must simply be jealous.
She knows Im younger and prettier, she confided to her mother. Just jealousy, thats all. I tried to be friendlyand she wouldnt even pour me a cuppa when I turned up with sweets!
Silly, stubborn girl, Edna chided. Perhaps I spoiled you. Never force your way into another familyits not welcome. Take the hint. They dont want your calls, its not communal here. Now youre sulking and making it a competition. Go, find your own husband and get a phone yourselfand then your neighbours can call you.
Charlotte made one last attempt to bridge things, arriving with a notepad to ask for Lauras pastry recipe.
Ive come with a requestwould you let me jot down your cheese bun recipe? Time I learned a thing or two myself, no?
You should ask your own mother. Our mums know plentyfar more than I ever do, Laura replied. Besides, I never measure anything, just judge by feelmy hands know what to do by now. She smiled, And Im in a bit of a hurry today, so pop along to your mum, do.
Charlotte blushed and went home. Of course, she well remembered the battered old exercise book in her mothers kitchen cupboard, each page covered in delicate looping script: salads, cutlets, soupseven jellied fish. And pastriesher mother once baked often, her best recipes filling the largest section.
But Charlotte had never wanted to bake herself; and these days, her mother avoided the oven, minding her blood pressure and waistline.
Still, Charlotte fetched the old book and flicked through indifferentlyuntil she found just the recipe she needed. Her mother was taken aback.
You really mean to bake something? Edna exclaimed.
Why does that surprise you? said Charlotte, marking her place before slamming the book shut.
Dont tell me things are back on with Adam? her mother prodded, I thought you two had finishedfor good, like all your other short-lived beaus.
Why should you think that? Charlotte flared. If I want, hell come running again!
Then want it. Its well past time for you to settle down. What recipe were you after, then? Maybe I could help?
Im just preparing myself, Mum.
But two days later, as Edna returned from her evening stroll, a heady scent of baking wafted through the hallway.
Heavenswhats this? Smells like a bakery in here! she gasped. You must be in love, Charlotte; nothing else would bring this on!
Dont shout across the whole house, Charlotte replied, smiling. Come taste. Theyre not pies, but cheese bunswith curd. The traditional sort.
A kettle boiled away; Charlotte had already set out mugs, a steeping pot, and a plate of golden buns, glowing like little suns.
Youve got a good touch, her mother admitted. I thought youd forgotten how, but youve done beautifully.
Are you being truthful, Mum? Or just saying so to please me? Charlotte pressed.
Try them yourself! Its perfectly edible, replied Edna. And Charlotte remembered her late fathers wordshis highest praise: edible.
Well. Then soon, Ill invite Adam round for tea and these same cheese buns. What do you reckon, will he like them?
Without question. These buns won your father over completely; he adored themand me for making them! Edna laughed. Keep at itinvite him; Ill nip next door and watch a film. At last youre using your headits more than dresses and hairstyles that win mens hearts!
Soon Adam was visiting Charlotte often. They quarrelled less, her mother grew used to Charlottes time in the kitchen, and Adam even pitched in, their laughter a regular sound.
When Charlotte announced that she and Adam had registered for a marriage license, Edna wept tears of relief: finally.
Charlotte changed. Slimmed down, keen to shed a few pounds before the wedding.
Whatever happened to your cheese buns? Will you bake a pie for the wedding, at least? Adam teased her.
Preparations for the at-home wedding fell to the three womenCharlotte, her mother, and Ednas sister, Aunt Rose. For two days, the kitchen was abuzz, though only twenty guestsall familywere expected.
The newlyweds moved into the large family bedroom of the three-room flat. Within the year, telephones were installed for all who wished in the building. Charlotte was pleased: at first, she rang everyone, but now kept her calls brief.
Sorry, Rita, must dashmy doughs ready, and Adam will be home any minute. Bye for now!
She hurried to the kitchen, where her dough was rising like a pillowy cloud. Charlotte was expecting their first, and due for her maternity leave within the monthbut she pressed on, baking and preparing, eager to please her husband. She herself adored her homemade cheese buns. Such deliciousness! And Adam cherished herher cooking and her kindness, too.
