All That She Can See(8)
Cherry was so preoccupied, frantically tasting and jotting everything down, that she hadn’t heard Mrs Overfield enter the house. Not having seen Cherry emerge for weeks and fearing something awful had happened, Mrs Overfield had taken it upon herself to come in using the spare key she knew Samuel had kept under the doormat.
‘Cherry, m’love?’ Mrs Overfield called as she walked tentatively into the kitchen, stopping abruptly at the sight that greeted her. Cherry’s black hair and dark skin were almost entirely white with flour, every surface was covered with cracked eggshells, batter, dough and baked goods still warm in their tins. As Mrs Overfield walked further into the kitchen, so did her Meddlum and with it, Cherry made her next great discovery.
Cherry had never known why she’d been cursed with the peculiar power to see everyone’s inner darkness, the very worst of what they were feeling. Mrs Overfield’s ‘worst’ was Worry. Worry was a large body that resembled a bundle of tangled grey wool, and it often reached down and vigorously shook Mrs Overfield’s hands. Cherry was watching this exact thing happening now and suddenly she felt a jolt in her brain as a connection was made. If I can see people’s bad feelings and put my own good feelings into food, she thought excitedly, maybe my food can help make people happier again. Before Cherry could acknowledge the responsibility she was taking on or how it might impact her life and her own happiness, she was darting from worktop to worktop. This could all go miserably wrong. Just because she could taste her feelings didn’t mean that other people would be able to. But she had to try.
‘Give me an hour and I’ll have something for you. Just give me an hour,’ Cherry said, without looking up. She scrambled around, collecting ingredients together. Mrs Overfield followed Cherry from fridge to cupboard, from chopping board and back, trying to find the perfect moment to interject so that she could have a proper conversation with her, but when she saw the concentration on Cherry’s face, her tongue sticking out the side of her mouth, Mrs Overfield realised maybe this preoccupation was exactly what Cherry needed. After all, she was out of bed and doing something.
Worry was busy massaging Mrs Overfield’s head and whispering little troublesome thoughts into her ear. Cherry couldn’t hear what it was saying but she assumed none of it was good, so she concentrated all the Calmness and Serenity she could muster into a Bakewell Tart and just over an hour later, she presented a slice of it to Mrs Overfield.
‘Cherry, is everything OK?’ Mrs Overfield asked gently. ‘It’s completely natural to grieve but you’ve got to talk to the people that care about you. You can talk to me.’ Worry had a firm grip on her head to ensure she kept her gaze fixed on Cherry so she hadn’t yet looked at the Bakewell Tart. Mrs Overfield took in eighteen-year-old Cherry. Cherry looked like she hadn’t slept in days, she’d lost weight and Mrs Overfield was sure she hadn’t showered for a while either. Cherry had even lost count of the days. Worry tightened its grip on Mrs Overfield, in full control of its prey. Loneliness, on the other hand, had become complacent while Cherry had been baking, so when Cherry reached out to take Mrs Overfield’s hand it was taken by surprise. It lunged for Cherry but was too late.
‘Mrs O?’ Cherry squeezed her fingers and instantly Worry’s throat tightened and its whisperings were muted. Cherry turned Mrs O’s hand and placed the plate in her upturned palm. ‘Eat this. Please?’ Cherry said, holding the small fork out to her.
‘All right…’
With Worry quieter and calmer than before, Mrs O plunged the fork into the icing, through the crust and then daintily nibbled at the morsel. Cherry watched in wonder as every muscle in Mrs O’s body visibly relaxed and then in horror as her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she slumped backwards onto the sofa, squashing Worry in an instant. She was out cold. Cherry ran to Mrs O and thrust her fingers to her neck, trying frantically to find a pulse. Once that gentle thump thump beat beneath her fingertips she pulled away and it was then that she saw Worry slip and tumble off of Mrs O’s shoulder and into her lap. Its arms were shrinking and then with a great pop its body deflated until it was just half the size it was before. Cherry’s moment of panic passed and had now been replaced by a feeling of happiness and contentment. Cherry leaned over and kissed Mrs O on her forehead, careful not to touch Worry’s twitching fingers. She ran upstairs to take a shower, not even realising Grief had disappeared from her bed, the only sign it had been there the black tear stains on her bed sheets. Loneliness lingered, but with a new sense of foreboding that something had shifted.
Over the next few months, Cherry honed her talent. The act of channelling her feelings into her baking provided her with a small amount of peace. Loneliness still clung to her clothes but its fingers often slipped. After her breakthrough with Mrs O (who woke up hours later, claiming she’d had the best sleep of her life), Cherry realised she’d put too much Relaxation into the tart, resulting in Mrs O’s swift fall into deep sleep. Like all ingredients, her feelings had to be measured. Cherry also realised that trying to force herself to feel certain things when she wanted to include them in her recipes was impossible. She had to find a way to ‘collect’ them so she had a supply for the future. If she could do that, maybe she’d feel ready to re-enter the world and see if she could help more people after she’d helped Mrs O. She watched one feel-good movie after another and cried Happy Tears into a jar. She slept with fresh fruit in her bed to infuse them with a Good Night’s Sleep. Cherry even spent hours cuddling a chocolate bar so it absorbed her Tender Loving Care. She found ways to build up her supplies and she tested her recipes on an unsuspecting Mrs Overfield to whom Cherry had given the spare key, much to Loneliness’s horror. It found itself a little shorter and the fur around its neck was beginning to thin out.