Doorstep dilemma

It was a quiet summer’s evening. Mum was baking muffins, Dad was watching the game on TV and Robbie was trying to locate a particularly itchy piece of ear wax with a pencil.

The letter box gently rattled and Annabelle came into the lounge a couple of minutes later clutching an unaddressed envelope.

“I don’t know what this is or who it is for” She announced.

“Open it sweetie” Said Mum s she handed around honeycomb muffins that were still warm and so delicious that they rendered everyone speechless for a few moments.

“ It’s a poem” Said Annabelle. “It says”
I promise that I’m not a bore
Meet at the clock at say, ten past four.

None of the family knew what this meant and as Dad’s team were losing, he suggested that the family go to the clock in the town for 4 o’clock to see if any light could be thrown on this mystery.

They arrived in town on time, only to find the place almost deserted. Just Billy Sadler, a boy from Annabelle’s school sat on a bench near the clock. He looked horrified to see Annabelle and made a vague attempt to cover his face with his collar.

“Maybe, he fancies you” Joked Robbie.

“No chance” Replied Annabelle “He’s never liked me since I snapped his protractor.”

The family returned home and forgot about the mysterious rhyme. But then the next day, at the same time, another poem arrived through the post box, again unaddressed.

This time Robbie read it
You’ll have the best time since you’ve been alive
Meet at the clock around quarter to five.

Once again the family went to the town clock at the time specified on the rhyme and again nothing happened and nobody appeared, although Billy Sadler was again sitting on the same bench.

The family went home and almost found themselves hoping that another rhyme would arrive the next day. And indeed it did. Mum decided it was her turn to read
A fun filled evening at the flicks
Meet at the clock at twenty past six.

But it was the same story. The family went to the clock. Nobody came to meet them and Billy Sadler was again sitting on the bench.

“Does that boy not have a home to go to” Exclaimed Dad.
“He’s a loser” replied Annabelle.

Mum treated the family to a night at the cinema anyway and Robbie was very proud to have managed to stuff 25 pieces of popcorn into his mouth at one time.

The next day, another poem arrived and Dad read it out loud.
I’m not allowed out as late as eleven
Best I can do, is five past seven.

The family went to the clock for five past seven and once again saw Billy Sadler although this time he was hopping from foot to foot in a slightly agitated way.

Mum decided to go and make sure he was all right.

“I’m fine” Said Billy. “I was hoping that Ashleigh Campbell would agree to meet me, I’ve left four notes through her door at number 65, but she hasn’t turned up”

“Billy “ Said mum in a gentle voice. “We live at number 65, I think you may have left the notes at the wrong house”

Billy dived for his pocket and pulled out a grubby piece of paper that looked like it had been through the washing machine at least twice. Billy suddenly went a bright shade of crimson and he was sure that mum could feel the heat from his cheeks.

“Oh no” he wailed “I should have put it through number 95”

Annabelle had slouched over at this point and couldn’t help letting out a little shriek of amusement.

Billy hurried home and Annabelle made sure that she facebooked Ashleigh to relate the story.

Ashleigh pretended to not be interested, but was actually a little flattered.

She left a little note in Billy’s locker the following day whilst nobody was looking.
It said.
You may not have found my front door
But I’ll be at the clock at just after four.

Ashleigh and Billy only went on the one date and that was to a café in the next town so that nobody would recognise them. But Billy had a wide smile on his face for at least a week.

Windsor mess

Mum was all of a flap!

Her book club was meeting at her house for the first time and it was the host's job to provide light refreshments.

On a summer's evening, Mum had decided to lay on a selection of dainty sandwiches with some crisps to nibble on. Nothing more substantial was required as there would be a lot of talking going on as this months book was discussed.

Mum had used tis as an excuse to visit the fancy new deli. that had  opened in the High Street. The place was amazing. Delicate looking rolls and loaves circled in front of your eyes on these clever carousel's that rotated at just the right speed. Gentle music and the smell of fresh baking seemed to rend you incapable of leaving the store.

Mum eventually decided on an exotic sounding pumpkin bread that was the most glorious, golden brown colour. 

Dad had been dispatched to the lounge where he could watch the game on the TV. Robbie was in the garden and Annabelle was in her room painting each of her toenails a different colour to see which she liked the most.  Bubbles the cat had curled up on Annabelle's bed but decided to leave her room when a particularly harsh rap song started up on the CD player. Unfortuately, Bubbles knocked over Annabelle's favourite nail varnish that went on as gold and then cracked in a trendy way.

Bubbles narrowly avoided a damp sock that Annabelle had angrily thrown in her direction.

Mum was determined to impress, particularly with the ultra-critical Mrs Pennington-Smythe rumoured to be in attendance.

Mum arranged all the sandwiches in delightful patterns on a three-tiered old fashioned tea plate that mum had inherited from her grandmother.

Meanwhile, Robbie was in the garden, absent-mindedly firing his pump action water pistol at birds that happened to land in their tall apple tree. Little did Robbie know that Bubbles had decamped up the tree as she decided it was safer than in the house. One shot of water from Robbie, badly aimed at a wood pigeon, caught Bubbles squarely in the left eye.

Bubbles shot down the tree, flew into the kitchen through the cat flap at exactly the moment that Mum was beginning to transport her beautifully presented sandwiches.

Mum saw Bubbles coming and in an attempt to swerve and avoid her, Mum slipped slightly on a small circle of cucumber. The tiered tea plate lurched at a funny angle and every single one of the sandwiches dropped in a synchronised way to the floor.

Mum was close to tears, but Dad had come into the kitchen for a fresh beer at exactly the right moment.

He dived into the cupboard for a large bowl, scooped up the fallen sandwiches and plopped them all in the bowl.

"Get the Doritto's" He ordered Mum.

"Robbieeee" He yelled.

Robbie trotted in and was slightly taken aback as Dad ordered him to clobber a bag of Doritto's with a rolling pin.

But this sounded like fun and Robbie spent a fun 45 seconds hitting them for all he was worth.

Dad ripped open the bag and poured the smashed crisps over the bowl of sandwiches. Dad then showed a previously unseen ability to chop carrot, pepper, tomato and cucumber at an electrifying rate and he tossed these also into the bowl.

He stirred the mix with two wooden spoons, gave mum 6 forks, one for each of her visitors and told her to pretend that this concoction was deliberate.

 "You've heard of Eton mess. Well, tell them that this is Windsor mess" He explained. "Tell them it's trendy, they won't dare to argue" He carried on.

So that's what mum did.

Unbelievably, it was a huge success. All the book group ladies loved the mixture of crisp, vegetables, pumpkin bread and assorted, mixed fillings.

The dish was so successful, that mum was asked to repeat it every time that book club returned to their house.