indentations?’ he asked. ‘Well, start snapping them apart. That’s it,’ he nodded as the yellow mixture broke into sweet-shaped lozenges. ‘All we do now is leave them to harden completely before packing them away into jars.’
‘I suppose you can leave them overnight to do that,’ she said.
‘You would think so, wouldn’t you?’ he replied, eyes twinkling with mischief. ‘However, one must never presume, Miss Carne. Because sugar, even in this form, absorbs moisture from the atmosphere, it is imperative the sweets are stored in airtight containers as soon as they are completely cold.’
‘Oh,’ she said, feeling stupid.
‘I would rather you asked questions and voiced opinions, Colenso, for that is the only way to learn. It also means you have been paying attention.’ His grin was so infectious she found herself smiling back. ‘Now let’s have a cuppa while we’re waiting. I always put water on to boil once the mixture has come off the heat. Efficient use of energy, see?’
‘Oh, excuse me,’ she said, trying to stifle a yawn.
‘Would you would prefer to retire? It has been a long day,’ he said, glancing at the clock.
‘A cup of tea would be most welcome,’ she replied. ‘I didn’t realize making sweets was such thirsty work.’
‘That’ll be the fumes from the colouring. I did say they were potent,’ he grinned, pouring water into the teapot on the little round table. ‘I must say you looked as though you enjoyed your sweet-making session.’
‘I did,’ she agreed, then took a welcome sip of her drink. ‘In fact, I can’t wait to do it again.’
‘Good, for tomorrow we shall be making barley-sugar twists and sugar-glass plate. It can get a bit steamy with two coppers on the boil so I hope you won’t mind.’
‘Mind? Why should I mind?’ she frowned.
‘Some women worry about their hair getting frizzed,’ he said, his eyes clouding.
‘Well, I’m just pleased mine is growing back,’ she said without thinking. ‘Oh, and of course, my scarf protects it,’ she added quickly. He was quiet as he poured them more tea.
‘Tell me a bit about yourself, Colenso,’ he invited. ‘Do you have any followers?’
‘I don’t think so,’ she replied. ‘I mean, I did but he didn’t pursue things so …’ she shrugged.
‘More fool him, if I might be so bold,’ he smiled, reaching out and patting her hand. ‘Sorry,’ he apologized. ‘Truth to tell, I feel comfortable in your company, even … well, something I haven’t felt for many a long year.’ She stared at him curiously but he changed the subject. ‘Well, those sweets are ready for packing. No, I’ll do it,’ he said as she jumped to her feet. ‘You’ve done enough for one day.’
✳
The next weeks followed a similar pattern and Colenso revelled in her new work. She was getting to know the customers, even predicting what some wanted as soon as they entered the shop. Garren was generous in his teaching and she was enjoying learning how all the sweets were made. She felt comfortable in his presence and an easy relationship formed between them, often ending with them sharing a cuppa at the end of the long day. Mr Goss senior, relieved to be free from the burden of working, took himself off to play cards or dominos with his friends and no longer appeared in the workshop.
One morning as Colenso was preparing the shop for opening, Garren appeared looking serious.
‘Do you realize it’s December next week?’ he asked.
‘Really? Goodness,’ she gasped, for in truth the days were passing so quickly she’d lost track of them. Is something wrong with those?’ Colenso asked, seeing him frowning at jars in the window.
‘Not as such. I was just thinking we’ll need to make some special sweetmeats in preparation for Christmas. Miss Chenoweth told me earlier she was surprised we hadn’t changed our window display. Apparently, the other confectioners in the town are already advertising their seasonal treats.’
‘Well, I suppose it does make sense to start planting ideas in the children’s minds. Reel them in with irresistible creations, remind them Father Christmas will soon be coming,’ she grinned, getting quite carried away with the idea.
‘Mother used to say the same,’ he admitted. ‘And she was a dab hand at making red and green streamers to hang everywhere.’
‘I’d be happy to decorate the shop,’ Colenso volunteered, remembering how Mammwynn used to love festooning her little cottage with holly, ivy and fir cones.
‘Would you?’ he replied, his expression lightening. ‘I’m afraid I don’t have much spare cash but I’m sure there are some scraps of green and red material upstairs. I’ll have a look later. First though, I need to post some letters. After which I might just take a detour and see what the competition’s up to,’ he chuckled. Once again, she couldn’t help thinking how much younger he looked when he smiled.
It was while he was out that she remembered Jago’s books. She was certain she’d seen receipts for Christmas confections when she’d been reading them in Mara’s van. As ever, thoughts of Mara made her feel bittersweet. On the one hand she hoped the woman had found happiness in the Summerlands with her lover, on the other it made her realize how much she missed her friend’s company and wise ways. Still, if there was one thing Colenso had learned from her, it was to make the most of the life you were currently living and not to dwell in the past. Unlike Jago, Garren paid her without fail every Thursday. Although it wasn’t much, not having to pay for her room or food meant she could save.
The jangling of the little bell brought her back to the present and she smiled down at the two children who dashed in ahead of their mother.
‘Uncle Sam’s given us money for sweets,’ they chorused, holding out their precious farthing.
‘What a nice uncle. Now, what would you like?’ she asked, smiling as they stood gazing longingly at all the jars.
‘Come on, you two,’ their mother urged. ‘We’ve still more shopping to do.’ She turned to Colenso and shook her head. ‘I knew I should have gone to the market first but they were so excited. It’s a rare thing for them to be able to come in here. Oh, do come on,’ she urged as they dithered between barley-sugar sticks and the rose rock.
‘Why don’t you have half of one of each?’ Colenso suggested. They nodded eagerly and watched wide-eyed as she selected the two sticks and cut them, making sure the pieces were equal, before wrapping them.
‘Thank you so much,’ the mother said, smiling wearily and ushering them out of the shop.
She’d just finished serving two elderly gentlemen with their twist of Nelson’s buttons and humbugs when Garren returned.
‘I have something for you,’ she greeted him. She was about to ask him if he would mind the shop whilst she went and got Jago’s receipt books when he held out a letter.
‘And I have something for you too,’ he replied. ‘Apparently, it’s been forwarded from Marazion. It was the name scrawled on the top that made the man in the post office ask if I knew who it
