Lemon drizzle cake

Susan had not left her bungalow since BBC radio 4 informed her of a blizzard coming in from the Atlantic. She rang her daughter, warning her, as she so often does and used the opportunity to request that she collects her shopping.

Susan had always been independent until her fall. Kathy- Susan’s daughter and a full-time midwife- did her best to check in on her. When she did, they were often flying visits, probably to see that she was still alive. They were never calls to see how she was, just calls to see if she was taking her medication and got out of bed okay.

The shopping list was a little more extensive than usual given the weather.

‘Mum you don’t need seedless grapes, I got you raisins the other day and when I checked your cupboards you had plenty.’

‘Oh- okay dear, could you still get me the rest?’ asked Susan. She heard a big sigh from Kathy’s end.

‘You don’t need any more biscuits either, the doctor said you need to watch your weight with not moving much these days.’

‘Well, it’s just I enjoy a biscuit with my tea and I thought I’d get some more with this weather.’

‘This snow isn’t going to last forever mum, global warming will see to that.’

‘Oh well, I suppose I could ration them out.’

When their phone call finished Susan felt flat. The skies were heavy-looking and grey, the air was tense. Her relationship with Kathy had changed a lot since her fall. She relied on Kathy more for her essentials. She understood Kathy was going through a tough time with her job and fiancé who was often complaining about how much time she spends away from the home.

Despite this factitious relationship with her part-time daughter and full time carer, she still had Rebecca.

Rebecca, not her real name, was Susan’s friend. She had never met Rebecca, but they messaged regularly. They met through a loneliness awareness scheme in which people were ‘buddied-up’ in a bid to stay connected. Everyone on the programme was anonymous and spoke twice a week on the phone. Speaking to Rebecca was the highlight of Susan’s week. She was a lovely, bubbly girl with lots to say about the world but also a keen listener. She enjoyed listening to Susan’s stories of the 60s and 70s, her earliest memories of Edward. Rebecca had actually asked Susan if she could write a book on her behalf. Susan was elated by the idea.

***

‘-and more snow is expected tonight, with the met office issuing a red warnings for most of the UK. With temperatures plummeting well below freezing, this winter is definitely looking like a record-breaker.’

Susan bit her knuckles.

She peered through the blinds and looked into the sky. The clouds were dense and heavy-looking. They looked like they were ready to explode wintery bombs of destruction. Kathy turned on the news to seek comfort.

Susan eventually sat to drink some tea. She liked tea. Tea was a familiar comfort. Tea was the same regardless of the weather. She drank from her favourite mug that said ‘S + E’ with a heart shape around it. She sipped the tea tentatively in her chair across the room from the only other chair in the room. She held the mug with both of her frail hands and held it close to her lips. The warmth of the mug reminded her that she was safe inside. She stared distantly into the electric fire, observing the motion of the flames.  

Her phone rang. The landline showed that it was Rebecca.

‘Oh hello dear! So lovely to hear from you. I thought we’ve had both calls this week, not that I mind- can’t say I’m up to much with this weather- isn’t it awful, frightening in fact- I’ve sent my daughter out to get supplies for me I do hope she-‘

‘-Sorry Miss Owens, it’s Thomas from the United Callers campaign’

‘Oh- good grief- hello Thomas, wh- can I help you?’ she said gingerly.

‘No Miss Owens, nothing is the matter I’m just ringing about Rebecca. She won’t be able to be your buddy any longer. She’s got a lot on her plate at the moment with her new job and she just wanted to pass a message to you- would you like to hear it?’

‘Oh, well- she never mentioned a new job to me, that’s- erm, yes- great news. What was her message?’

‘She just wanted to say that she loved having her chats with you and wishes you well.’

‘Ah, nice of her. Well, will that be all Thomas?’

‘Miss Owens, before I le-

‘-it’s Mrs. I may be widowed Thomas but I am still Mrs Owens.’

‘Sorry- rude of me- I was wondering if you would like another buddy to be paired up with?’

‘I am not a child Thomas. I do not need a buddy.’

Susan put the phone down.

The clouds above were thicker and it was darker outside. The snow began to fall like ashes. The street lights lit themselves one by one. Susan knew which one would come on first and which ones would follow. This was a set routine in the winter months.

It was half past three. There was so much of the day to go, so much time to ponder on what would be her final phone call of the day. Susan was a slave to time, only ever freed when others called for her- to ask how she was or to see if she needed anything. Time was a tyrant, reminding Susan just how lonely she was. Every day, hour, minute and second, she was alone and she missed Edward that bit more, longing for the time she would be with him again.

***

Sat in her chair, she heard squeals of excitement. She stood up and peered through the blind. She noticed two children out playing, a boy and a girl. They were about ten years old. They seemed like nice children. She didn’t know their names but they always said hello and always delivered a Christmas card. She waved and smiled they waved back and smiled too. They both had their winterwear on, scarves, gloves and woolly hats. Susan admired them, flying freely in the snow. The children had noticed she was still looking. They realised she was watching their efforts to build a snowman. They rolled up a ball which got bigger, gradually as they rolled it through the road. They rolled a ball to the size of a car tyre. She applauded them, they bowed. She sat back down, smiling.

She thought some more.

She liked chatting to Rebecca. Rebecca was nice, she was like having another younger daughter to talk to. A younger daughter who actually wanted to see how she was. Talking to Rebecca didn’t feel like the conversation was an obligation or civic duty on Rebecca’s part. It felt real. It felt organic and wholesome. Rebecca talked about her fiancé, Miguel, and Susan would often explain the beauties of marriage and how much Rebecca had to look forward to. They gossiped about the soaps and celebrity trends and even Netflix. Rebecca had taught Susan how to set up a Netflix account, they always talked about the shows they were watching. A new show every week.

 She understood that Rebecca was busy but was upset that her message came through a 3^rd party. Susan observed this as a decision Rebecca had made not because she didn’t want to upset Susan but because she knew Rebecca couldn’t face the thought of cancelling the highlight of an old lady’s week. What felt worse was the fact that Susan forgot about the United Callers campaign. To her Rebecca was a friend but, to Rebecca, Susan was an old lady who she could no longer afford to talk to.

***

She decided to bake a cake for Kathy. A lemon drizzle cake, one Kathy had always enjoyed since being a child. She beat the caster sugar and butter together until it resembled a creamy texture. She added the eggs, remembering how Edward would come in and compliment the smell of the room. ‘It’s not even in the oven yet, you can’t smell a thing!’ she would protest.

‘Ah, but I can imagine how good it is going to smell.’

She smiled and pushed on, sifting in the flour and the lemon zest. She had perfected the recipe so well she knew by the weight of the bowl when the mixture was thick enough. She poured into in a tray and set it to bake.

She looked out the window to see the blizzard the news had reported, she heard the children squealing with excitement. She shivered at the sight of it, Susan felt trapped.

The timer buzzed and the cake was ready, warm and fresh. Her phone rang.

‘Mum I’m not going to be able to come tonight, this snow is too bad- I’m sorry, I just can’t risk it with the car behaving the way it is. I’m really sorry.’

Susan sighed but not so Kathy could hear.

‘No bother my lovely, you stay safe.’

‘Mum, I’m so sorry, can one of the neighbours help?’

‘Don’t worry Katherine, I’ll be fine.’

She put the phone down and stared at the lemon drizzle cake on the table. I know, she said to herself.

Susan pulled her winterwear from her cupboard. She looked at her picture of Edward and pulled on her hat and gloves.

She stepped outside, carefully, onto the stone path.

‘Would you kids like some of my homemade lemon drizzle cake?’

‘Oooh yes please! That smells delicious!’ replied the girl. She ran up and picked herself a slice.

‘Nice?’ asked Susan.

‘Really nice! It tastes like real lemons!’

‘Ha! Funny that isn’t it?’

‘What’s your name?’ the boy inquired.

‘Susan, my lovely. And yours?’

‘My name is Edward and this is my sister Rebecca.’

The snow continued to fall with all its might. Susan’s smile radiated through the wintery wash of snowflakes and she, herself, felt a little warmer.