“Did you bring the milk with you?” Daphne asked Simon and Laura as they brought the plastic carrier bag full of “goodies” into the large clearing in the middle of the trees.
“Yeah, are you sure this is a good idea? What if we accidentally kill someone?” Simon asked warily. He popped the carrier down in the leaf litter.
“Then it’s going to be a more exciting bake sale than last year.” Laura shrugged. Simon shot her a look.
“She’s kidding, right?”
“Calm down, Sai. No-one’s going to kill anyone… if we do it right.” Daphne knelt down in between the autumn leaves and rustled through the bag. She pulled out a large, deep saucepan, a wooden spoon, and a lighter from her pocket. To her right, a small firepit ringed by stones set into the ground lay waiting.
“Laura,” she said, “can you set out the ingredients. You got everything right, Sai?”
“Yeah, I think so. I lost the recipe sheet, but as far as I remember, the only thing I couldn’t find in my Mum’s house was the cinnamon, but you said-”
“I got that.” Laura grinned, and pulled a small spice jar from her left pocket.
“And I got everything else.” Daphne said, pointing to her purple canvas rucksack which sat on a tree stump a few paces north. Several cute and brightly coloured keychains hung from the zips and two massive badges were pinned to it. One said: “Bite Me”, and the other said “Sloths R cute” but the “r” was reversed.
Laura knelt too. Her brown coloured leggings were the same colour as the dirt but her oversized orange pullover hid them from view when she sat down. Daphne thought she looked like a furry pumpkin, complete with short, bobbed hair for a stalk. While Laura pulled out many different plant-like ingredients from the bag.
“What’s this one?”
“Its from the family Amaryllidaceae,” Daphne said delicately. “It’s in the daffodil family apparently.”
“How do you remember this shit?” Simon asked. “Honestly, I’m the one supposed to be good at this.”
“Sai, you failed the last math test.” Laura didn’t look up from her task.
“No. Sixty percent was a pass.”
“A scrape.” Daphne flicked her lighter, trying to start a fire with some kindling and dead wood she’d gathered up earlier. “You guys weren’t followed right?”
“No, why would we be followed? We come here, like, all the time.” Laura said. “There, organised. I think some of this plant got crushed though.”
“Yeah, but we’re not usually carting kitchenware through it.” Sai said. “Look, like I said, we don’t even know if it’ll work. My Granny was always weird about these things and sometimes she told people the wrong ingredients of stuff so they wouldn’t steal the recipes.”
“Well, we gotta pray that your Granny loved you enough to pass on the family secrets.”
“Yeah,” Daphne said, sitting back. The start of a healthy fire flickered on the bed of pinecones and dead branches. She through a few pieces of scrunched up jotter paper in there for extra measure. A nice heat fanned up through the air. It was quite pleasant.
“We should do this more often. Cooking ancient recipes in the woods.”
“No, we should not.” Simon hissed.
“Whatever. Do you remember what to put in first?”
“Erm, yeah. That’s easy enough. Put in the flour, eggs, milk and sugar first. Put only like, a little sugar. Most of it gets replaced by the weird plant stuff.”
“Simple enough. Basic cake recipe. Hand me that mixing bowl.” Daphne said and got to work. “Maybe I should have been the one with a witchy granny.”
“I don’t think she was a witch,” Simon said, but he sounded unsure. “I thought maybe she was a chemist. Like an old time one. Uhm, a-. “ He moved his hand in circles, like he was stirring something.
“Apothecary? Or like an alchemist?”
“Maybe.”
“Yes. Most apothecaries have a recipe for revenge fruit-loaf.” Laura grinned.
Simon sighed.
“Hey, relax. It’s not like we’re going to get found out. Not if we keep calm and do it right. Okay, I think it’s stirred enough. What next?”
Simon folded his arms and pulled a face.
“Erm, the powdered arrowroot and the cherries go in at the same time.”
“What if Miss Plumae is allergic to cherries?” Daphne asked.
“Then it’s a fast-acting revenge loaf.” Laura said handing over the aforementioned ingredients. The powdered arrowroot was in a small Tupperware tub that Laura clicked the lid from.
“What’s next?”
“The Amyrilla-whatsit.”
Laura handed them over.
“Okay, then you have to stir it for a bit before adding more flour or something.”
“Or something? Simon, you need to remember. How long do we stir it for?” Daphne pressed.
“Um… Oh, the cinnamon.”
“Check.” Laura opened the cinnamon and added it in.”
“Now stir.” Simon said. “Anti-clockwise.”
“Does that make a difference?”
“Here, give it.” Simon took the wooden spoon from Daphne and started to stir it. “Like this, more fluidly. She always gave it this flourish.”
“Well, well. Looks like your witchiness is really coming out now, Si!” Laura laughed.
“I’m a guy, Laura.” Simon snapped.
“Boys can be witches too.” Daphne said. “No really.”
“You’re thinking of bitches.” Laura snorted.
“No, witches too.”
“Whatever.” Laura scoffed. “Just don’t burn it.”
“I won’t.” Simon said. “Have you seen me in Home Ec.”
“No. Because we’re in different classes, dumbass.” Laura said and ruffled his hair affectionately. Simon shrugged her away.
“Daff, can you pass the mandrake? It needs to go in too.”
“That’s the weird one, right? The one that looks like a human.”
“Yeah. Granny used to say it’s what happens if you get buried alive.”
“Your granny sounds like a hoot. Wish we’d got a chance to meet her.”
Simon shrugged. “Wish she’d left me more than a few yellowed recipes. Okay, mandrake root. It’s supposed to suck the excess moisture out of it.”
Daphne plopped it into the watery mixture. Sure enough, the water soaked into the strange human-like root. A black mark formed around the middle of one of its nodules.
“Eww, that looks like a mouth!” Laura squealed.
It did indeed look like a mouth.
Simon shivered and poked the remainder of the pot with the spoon. He scooped the root up into it and touched it. It was ice cold.
The rest of the mixture had turned into a soft, golden dough with the cherries bleeding into it.
“Here, take the root, and bury it near the river, Daphne. Deep as you can. Laura, where’s the saucepan lid, we need to cover and bake this.”
“Gotcha.” Daphne said, rising to take the root from Simon. She cradled it carefully; as though it was a baby. “Come on little thing, we’re gonna bury you properly.” She cooed at it as she headed off towards the stream that carried through the back of the woods. Usually it took the waste off the fields behind the woods, but today it would feed this root too.
“She’d make a better witch than me.” Simon sighed.
“She’s just weird, Si. Not as weird as you, though.”
“Shut up. Here, help me adjust this fire. Can’t believe we’re setting fires in the woods now. It’s just like you two, if we get caught-“
Daphne’s scream echoed through the trees and into the clearing. A sharp wind blew with it and puffed out the fire in one quick blast.
“I knew it wasn’t right. Shit!” Simon gasped and ran in the direction Daphne had gone. “Daff! Daff!”
Laura hesitated. She lifted the pot lid up. There, in the pan, was a perfectly baked fruit loaf, moulded to the shape of the saucepan.
She let out a tiny hah of approval and tilted her head.