I piped a long message in front of all my Nativity figures.
I never ever thought I’d be wishing Good Will to any man! I decided to add a bit.
CHARLIE’S CHRISTMAS CAKE
There are lots of ingredients and lots of steps involved when making a real Christmas cake, so you might want to ask for some help – and you’ll need plenty of time! Try to make your cake a few weeks before Christmas, and keep it wrapped up tightly in foil or a cake tin until you’re ready to eat it.
For your cake:
• 225g plain flour
• ½ tsp mixed spice
• ½ tsp ground cinnamon
• 200g butter
• 200g dark brown sugar
• 2 tbsp black treacle
• ½ tsp vanilla essence
• 4 large eggs
• 700g mixed dried fruit (choose whatever you like best – sultanas, raisins, apricots and cranberries are all delicious!)
• 100g chopped mixed peel
• 150g chopped nuts
• 100ml strong tea
For your topping:
• 200g marzipan
• 2 tbsp apricot jam
What to do:
1. Heat the oven to 150°C. Grease a 20cm round cake tin and line the bottom and sides with baking parchment.
2. Put the flour, mixed spice and cinnamon into a bowl.
3. Put the butter and the sugar in a separate mixing bowl and then add the sugar, treacle and vanilla essence, and beat until light and fluffy.
4. Mix the eggs one at a time into the mixture.
5. Fold in the flour mixture, then mix in the dried fruit, mixed peel and nuts.
6. Tip the mixture into the prepared tin and bake in the oven for 3 hours, until a metal skewer pushed into the centre of the cake comes out clean.
7. Remove from the oven and leave to cool in the tin for 15 minutes. Then turn out on to a wire rack and leave to cool fully.
8. Once cool, make a few little holes in the cake with a skewer and pour the tea over the top very carefully, so the liquid soaks into the cake.
9. When you’re ready to decorate the cake, place the cake on a foil board or cake plate. Dust your hands and the work surface with a little icing sugar and knead the marzipan until soft. Roll out half the marzipan to fit the top of the cake and roll out the rest in strips to fit around the sides of the cake. Brush the cake all over with the warmed apricot jam and then place the marzipan on top and around the cake.
10. A week or so before Christmas, you could add white icing too!
Wednesday 1st January
Happy New Year! No, more like Unhappy New Year.
I don’t know what to write in this silly diary. Nan gave it to me as part of my Christmas present.
‘You want to be a writer, don’t you, Milly?’ she said.
Well, yes, I do want to be a writer, but I don’t want to write about my own boring dreary horrible life. I want to write about a wonderful fantasy Millyland where I’m the princess and I get to do everything I want and I can have all the animals I fancy, especially gerbils, and I live in my own palace and make as much noise as I care to and nobody ever tells me off.
I don’t live in a palace now. I don’t live in my own house any more. I have to live with my nan and grandad. I don’t even have my own bedroom, I have to share with my mum.
We live here because Dad left us last summer and we couldn’t stay in our house because we hadn’t paid the rent. Nan says, ‘Never mind, we’ll get along fine, our own special family of four.’ She had to nudge Grandad hard to make him back her up. I don’t think he’s very keen on this arrangement. Actually I don’t think he’s very keen on me.
He’s a policeman and he’s used to telling people what to do – so at home he bosses Nan around and he bosses Mum and he particularly bosses me. He does shift work so he is sometimes asleep during the day. I don’t always remember this and I dash up the stairs or I slam a door or I turn on the television and then he yells crossly, ‘Tell that kid to pipe down, I’m trying to have a kip!’
He’s asleep now because he was on duty all last night. Mum’s asleep too. She went to some neighbour’s New Year’s party up the road. I didn’t get to go anywhere. I’m not that friendly with any of the children in my class at this new school just yet. I didn’t want to go out anyway because I hoped my dad would ring me to wish me a Happy New Year.
He didn’t. He did send me the most amazing Christmas presents though – an iPhone 5, would you believe, and a pair of leather boots with heels (OK, only little ones) and a real silver charm bracelet. Mum got upset because she could only afford to get me a little present this year and Nan got upset because she said I was much too young to have a smartphone and heeled boots and real jewellery. Grandad got upset too, and said Dad should pay Mum proper maintenance and not waste his money.
I didn’t get the slightest bit upset. I love my Dad. I miss him sooooo much. I miss Gilbert too. He was my very special beautiful little boy gerbil and I loved him desperately. I especially loved letting him scurry down my school blouse and nestle on top of my tummy. It used to drive Nan nuts when she came on a visit. She’s seriously weird. She’s scared of gerbils. So I had to give Gilbert away when we came to live at her house. It was one of the saddest days of my life.
I’m still sad now. It’s not going to be a Happy New Year.
Thursday 2nd January
Dad still hasn’t rung. Mum’s in a surprisingly good mood though. She’s been a bit fed up and weepy for ages, but now she’s all bouncy and she put on all her makeup and her best blue dress even though she was just going to work at her new waitressing job. Nan had to go to work at her dress shop so it was just Grandad and me at home.
Grandad was asleep all morning because he’s still on nights. The morning was very l-o-n-g. And boring. I tried phoning Dad a few times with my new iPhone but he just had his answerphone message taking the calls. I phoned the message deliberately just to hear Dad’s voice. ‘Hi, you’re through to Dave. Leave me a message and I’ll get back to you.’ So I left Dad some messages. Lots of messages.
Grandad came downstairs about one o’clock and caught me leaving yet another message.
‘That’s not a toy, Milly. You mustn’t phone on a whim. You’ve got to have something to say,’ he said.
‘But I’ve got lots and lots to say to my Dad,’ I said mournfully.
Grandad snorted. He can’t stand my Dad, especially now. But he must have felt sorry for me because he offered to take me out to lunch. Normally we just have baked beans or pizzas at home as neither of us are great cooks.
‘We’ll go and check out your mum’s restaurant, shall we?’ he said.
‘Oooh, yes!’ I love eating there because Mum and all the other waitresses make a big fuss of me, and I get a specially big portion of chips and extra cream on my fruit pie.
So we went off together, Grandad and me, and we had a lovely lunch, and I had a banana toffee milkshake which was wonderful. Mum larked about a bit, and called me Miss Milly and treated me like a grown-up but she didn’t act like she was actually listening all the time. She kept running to chat to this man sitting right at the other end by the serving hatch. I couldn’t see him properly because his back was to me, but he must have been ordering a lot of food because he kept Mum talking for ages. She was obviously very hot from all the rushing about because she was bright pink.
Friday 3rd January
I know who that man is now. Mum told me last night. He’s called Michael Everill and he lives near my nan’s and he was at that New Year’s party on Tuesday night. And Mum’s going out with him tonight! On a date! I can’t believe it. My mum! She’s not a teenager. What about my dad?
I said all this, very fiercely indeed.
‘You know your dad and I are divorced now, Milly. Michael’s very nice and if – if we start going out together properly then you’ll get to know him and I’m sure you’ll like him,’ said Mum.
‘I won’t like him.
I’ll loathe him,’ I said.
‘Now then, young lady, that’s no way to talk to your mother,’ said Grandad sternly.
‘But it’s disgusting, Mum going out with a strange man!’ I said.
‘He’s not strange, dear. I’ve known the Everills for years. In fact he went to the very same primary school as your mum, though they were in different years,’ said Nan.
‘So he’s much older than Mum?’ I said.
‘He’s actually a year or two younger,’ said Mum.
‘So he’s a toy boy!’ I shrieked.
‘I’ve told you once, watch your tongue!’ said Grandad.
‘That’s not a very nice term, dear,’ said Nan.
Mum said nothing at all. She was pink in the face again.
‘Maybe – maybe seeing Michael isn’t such a good idea,’ she mumbled. ‘It’s early days and I don’t want to get Milly all upset. I’ll tell Michael I can’t make it.’
‘You’ll do no such thing,’ said Grandad. ‘You’ll go and enjoy yourself, dear. You can’t tiptoe around worrying about upsetting Milly. You’re going to turn her into a right little madam. And it’s about time you went out with a decent bloke, after wasting so much time with that scoundrel.’
‘My dad’s not a scoundrel! You’re a mean stupid fat pig to say such a thing!’ I yelled.
I got sent to bed in disgrace. I’m writing my diary sitting up in bed now. I hate Grandad. I hate Nan too. And I hate Mum because she is still out on this awful date with this horrible Michael guy.
I love my Dad.
Later
I hate my Dad too. He rang me on my iPhone and I was so thrilled to hear his voice, but he just went on and on telling me off for leaving all the messages. He said he wasn’t made of money and the phone was to be used very sparingly and anyway I must never ever phone him when he was at work.
‘So when can I phone you, Dad?’ I said, trying not to cry.
‘In the evenings – I’m free then,’ sad Dad.
But he wasn’t free. I could hear music in the background, and then this woman’s voice said, ‘Supper’s ready, darling.’
Dad has this girlfriend, Eva.
I hate her too.
I hate everyone.
Saturday 4th January
Mum didn’t come home till very late last night. She hummed softly to herself as she took her clothes off and got into bed.
‘Are you awake, Milly?’ she whispered.
I kept my lips buttoned. I didn’t want to say a single word to her. In fact I resolved not to speak to her ever again.
I kept it up at breakfast time the next morning. I didn’t even say thank you when Mum made waffles for a special treat. Mum sighed, and made herself another cup of coffee.
‘OK, Milly, we’ve got a whole Saturday together – it’s my weekend off. Grandad’s sleeping, and Nan’s out at work all day. What would you like to do?’
I bent my head and stared fiercely at my plate. I said nothing.
‘We can go out and have fun – or you can sit here sulking all day long. It’s up to you,’ said Mum.
I pondered. ‘What are you doing this evening?’ I mumbled. ‘I bet you’re going out with your boyfriend.’
Mum swallowed. ‘He’s not my boyfriend – not yet, anyway. And yes, I am seeing Michael. We’re going to the pictures.’
‘Oh, that’s not fair – you promised to take me!’ I wailed. ‘I want to see that new funny film about animals!’
‘I know. Michael and I are going to see a romance about a new couple and their problem children,’ said Mum. ‘Maybe I should have made the film myself! But if you like I’ll take you to the animal film this afternoon as a special treat – even though you don’t deserve one.’
I hesitated. It wasn’t really much fun being angry with Mum. I rushed to her all of a sudden and gave her a big hug and she sat me on her lap as if I was still little.
‘That’s my girl,’ she said, rocking me.
‘I don’t like this Michael, Mum,’ I said.
‘I know. But I do.’
‘As much as Dad?’
‘Oh goodness, it’s early days yet! Michael’s just a friend. But a very sweet one. He’s had a bit of a tough time, you know. His wife went off with someone else a year ago. He’s got joint custody of their children. There’s a girl about your age and a younger brother.’
‘Do you know them?’
‘No, I’ve never met them – but maybe . . . maybe tomorrow we could all meet up for Sunday lunch?’ Mum suggested.
‘But we always have Sunday lunch here, with Nan and Grandad!’ I protested.
‘Well, we don’t have to. It’s just a suggestion,’ said Mum. ‘Now, I’m still in a cooking mood. Want to do some baking?’
‘Oh yes, please!’ I said, because it’s one of my favourite things to do, especially if I get to lick out the bowls afterwards. Mum and I made cupcakes with lots of pink buttercream and then a chocolate sponge with a chocolate frosting topping. I licked the bowls so clean they hardly needed to go in the dishwasher.
Grandad joined us for lunch and we had a healthy tuna salad for our first course – and then wonderfully naughty cupcakes for pudding!
Mum asked Grandad if he wanted to come with us to the cinema but he said he’d sooner watch the sport on television. He gave Mum ten pounds though to go towards the cinema tickets.
I knew Mum didn’t really want to go and see the animal film, especially as she was going back to the cinema in the evening with him. She was just going to be kind to me.
I hadn’t really been very kind to Mum.
I loved the animal film and roared with laughter. It felt good. I hadn’t laughed very much for ages. I felt in such a good mood afterwards that I linked arms with Mum on the way home.
‘Thanks for taking me, Mum,’ I said. I paused. ‘Sorry I was a bit mean to you this morning.’
‘That’s OK, Milly. It must feel a bit weird, having your mum go out on a date. I know just how much you still love your dad and you miss him terribly. He’ll still always be your father, you know. No one can ever replace him. You know that, don’t you.’
I do know that. Dad phoned me when we got home, and we talked for ages and quite soon I’m going to stay with him for the weekend. Maybe next week. It will be great. I love love love my dad.
And I love my mum too.
Sunday 5th January 2014
Mum came back late last night too. I decided to talk to her this time.
‘Did you have a good time?’
‘Yes I did,’ said Mum, a little cautiously.
‘This Michael’s still lovely, is he?’ I said.
‘Well.’ Mum giggled. ‘I think so.’
‘Is he as good looking as Dad?’
‘Mmm – no. He’s more friendly-looking than handsome.’
‘Does he earn lots of money like Dad does now?’
‘Nope. He works in a bookshop and doesn’t get paid much at all – but he loves his job even so.’
‘So he doesn’t have a flash car like Dad?’
‘He doesn’t have any car at all.’
‘So what’s so special about him?’ I asked.
‘He’s sweet and kind and funny and he makes me feel good,’ said Mum.
‘Oh.’ That shut me up for a bit.
‘And you can meet him yourself tomorrow. For Sunday lunch?’ said Mum.
‘I’ll think about it,’ I said.
I thought about it on and off all night. And this morning at breakfast (waffles again, yum!) I said casually, ‘OK then – let’s go to lunch at this Michael’s.’
‘You’re sure?’ said Mum. ‘You – you will be polite to him, won’t you?’
‘I should blooming well hope she’s polite!’ said Grandad. ‘You mollycoddle that kid far too much.’
‘Now now,’ said Nan, who always tries to keep the peace.
‘I millycoddle her,’ said Mum, laughing.
That made me giggle too. I felt OK for most of the morning –
but when it was time to leave I suddenly felt totally weird. I didn’t want to meet this Michael after all. I especially didn’t want to see him and Mum together. What if they acted all lovey-dovey? It made me feel sick just thinking about it. And what were these children of his going to be like? I imagined a really horrid girl who might tease me and call me names. Some of the girls in my class at my new school were like that. It was awful being a new girl. I had heaps of friends at my old school. The little brother would be just as bad – maybe even worse.
‘I’ve changed my mind, Mum. I don’t want to come,’ I said, as Mum put our lovely chocolate cake in a fancy tin.
‘Too late, lovie. I phoned to say we’re coming,’ said Mum.
‘Yes, but I don’t want to now,’ I whined.
‘I know. But I think you’ll have fun when you get there. So we’re going.’
‘Are you giving them our chocolate cake?’ I asked indignantly.
‘We’ll all have a slice for pudding,’ said Mum.
I saw this Michael and his children having HUGE slices, so there was hardly any cake left for me. It made me hate them even more.
But then we got to Michael’s. He lived in a flat, not a house, and it was a bit scruffy and untidy, with lots of books everywhere. He was a bit scruffy and untidy too, and nowhere near as handsome as my Dad – but I suppose he did look friendly. But thank goodness he wasn’t all over me, not trying to hug me or anything – and he just said ‘Hi’ to Mum and didn’t try to kiss her.
‘It’s lovely to meet you, Milly,’ he said. ‘You look just like your Mum – in other words, pretty stunning.’