A/N: Warning! I take no responsibility for any sudden aversions to turkey that you may develop as a result of reading this chapter. Besides, you have exactly 10 months today to get over it before Christmas arrives. I need to stop writing about food, I'm leaving myself with far too many food aversions at the moment!
~xXx~
Chapter 27
2011
"Oh, Rob, just a few more minutes," Kim clung to the back of Robin's shirt as he reluctantly left their cosy spot in the lounge and moved to the kitchen to begin the preparations for their Christmas lunch.
"If we don't start now we'll never get anything to eat today," Robin protested, even though he was tempted to give in and forget the turkey completely.
"I think I'm still running off yesterday's fry-ups," Kim said uncomfortably, muffling a burp, "I won't need to eat for the next week."
"Yeah, you say that now, wait until the turkey is –" Robin trailed off as he opened the fridge door and found a large, empty spot in the middle of the shelf. He froze and gulped. "Uh, Kim?"
"Yeah?"
He turned her slightly.
"You didn't move the turkey did you?"
"Where exactly would I move it to?" frowned Kim, "Albania?"
Robin gulped again. That was a very valid point.
"Well," he began, "there seems to be an empty turkey-sized space in the fridge and no sign of the main part of our Christmas dinner."
"What?" Kim's expression clouded over, "let me see –" she pushed in front of him and stared at the empty space in the middle of the fridge. "What the hell?"
"I told you!"
Kim turned to Robin in alarm.
"It… it was there this morning!" she cried, "it was there when I got out the bucks fizz!"
"Then where's it gone?" Robin cried, panic raging through his veins.
"I have no idea," Kim panicked, "Can… can turkeys fly?"
"I don't think this particular example has been heading south for the winter!" said Robin.
In the moment of stunned silence that followed, Kim became aware of a low humming noise. She stood upright, glanced around and frowned as her eyes settled upon the oven.
"Rob… it's a bit early to pre-heat the oven isn't it?" she asked.
"Preheat… I'm not pre-heating the oven yet," Robin frowned.
"Then why's it on?" Kim asked.
Robin turned sharply around, his eyes focusing on the appliance behind him. A glow was coming from inside of it.
"Shit," he gasped, "and there's something in there."
"What?"
"There's something in there and I'm not cooking yet."
"Well don't look at me!" cried Kim, "after yesterday's disasters my input in the kitchen is going to be limited to standing on the side-lines and cheering you on!"
Robin bit his lip.
"Shit," he hissed. He felt a terrible sensation of fear spreading through his veins as he closed the door of the refrigerator and began to creep towards the oven slowly, one step at a time, with Kim right behind him. He got to the oven and placed his hand on the door, glancing at Kim for support.
"Go on, Rob" she urged him.
Robin swallowed. Then he opened the door.
A turkey stared back. Or it would have done if it had eyes. What it had, in fact, was an apple shoved up its backside.
"Argh!" Robin cried, jumping half a foot in the air, "what the hell is that?"
"A…. a turkey?" Kim wasn't completely convinced that she wasn't hallucinating.
"What the hell has it got up its arse?" Robin cried, taking an involuntary step backwards and trying to hide behind Kim who was shaking anxiously.
"I… I'm not sure," she gulped, "but I think I've seen some porn of this…"
"Oh eugh!" cried Robin running around in circles of turkey-related horror. He'd done three complete laps of the kitchen when he came to a halt, slammed the oven door and backed right away. "Oh my god… OK…" he turned to Kim and looked her in the eye, "that turkey was not in the oven when we made brunch. Right?"
Kim nodded.
"Right."
"And that's… that's not even our turkey," he realised, "ours was bigger than that."
"A random turkey can't just…" Kim began but trailed off as images of appearing and disappearing desks, name blocks, decorations and cookies passed through her mind. "Forget it. Forget it. they can. Anything's possible."
~xXx~
1996
"Shoebury!"
Simon closed his eyes and sighed. He reluctantly hauled himself up from the couch and slumped out to the kitchen, wishing he could disappear into his jumper.
"What now?" he sighed.
"What have you done with me bloody turkey?" Gene demanded.
"What have I done with it?" Simon repeated, "in what way? What are you accusing me of?"
"I just went to all the bother of stuffing the bloody thing and putting it in the oven and now it's gone!" Gene accused.
"Well I didn't take it!" cried Simon. "What would I be doing with your turkey when it's not finished cooking yet? It's all full of germs and death!"
"Well I don't know!" cried Gene, "bloody winding me up. Getting me back for the puppet show this morning."
"Believe me, Gene, I will seek revenge when the time is right," Simon told him crossly, but stealing a half-cooked turkey isn't the way I'm going to do it." He paused, "are you absolutely sure you'd started cooking it?"
"Well, it might have gone down the pub for a quick one first - What sort of a bloody question is that?" Gene demanded.
"Just checking!" Simon held up his hands, "I mean, you did have a bit to drink last night…"
"Listen sunshine," Gene started to get the cookery rages again, grabbing Simon by the neck of his jumper and pulling him forward, "it's supposed to be 'hair of the dog', not feather of the turkey, and that bloody bird was in the oven getting a nice tan."
Simon pulled Gene's hand from his neckline, straightened his jumper and took a wary step back.
"OK, OK," he snapped, "just checking." He pointed to the fridge. "Are you sure you didn't put it back in there by mistake?"
"Oh yeah, that's a nice mistake to make," Gene cried, "your faith in me intellect is astounding. Let's see, why don't we?" he paced to the fridge, "let's see how many rogue turkeys we have in the –"
Simon coughed and raised his eyebrow as Gene opened the door to reveal a large, raw turkey.
"How about that one?" he said.
Gene looked from the turkey to Simon and back again.
"That," he began, "is not my turkey."
"How can you even tell?" cried Simon.
"It's put on weight for a start!" cried Gene.
Simon's head was starting to hurt.
"Look, Gene," he began tiredly, "I've had a shitty morning so far. I don't want to spend the day arguing about turkeys and their magical properties. Whether that's your turkey or not it's right there, waiting to be stuffed and frazzled. Just use it and if 'missing turkey' posters start appearing on lamp posts afterwards then we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Alright?"
Gene stared at Simon and for a horrible moment Simon feared that a festive trip to filing cabinet land on was on the way, but eventually Gene seemed to concede defeat, pulled the turkey from the fridge, slapped it on the table and reached for an apple.
"What's that for?" Simon regretted asking as Gene jammed it mercilessly up the bird's backside. He flinched and turned his head away, screwing his eyes up tightly.
"What's yer problem Shoebury?" Gene demanded, "you've turned more shades of colour than a bloody Benetton advert."
"Nothing," Simon retched, "nothing's the matter. Except I'm never going to eat another apple again as long as I live." He shuffled and flinched, "or have sexual intercourse."
He retreated from the kitchen whil he still had control over the contents of his stomach.
~xXx~
2011
"Right," Robin took a deep breath and addressed Kim seriously, "so here's the situation: We have one part-cooked turkey in the oven with an apple jammed in its arse. Our turkey has taken a voyage to the other side. What do we do?"
Kim bit her lip.
"Hide?" she suggested
Robin couldn't disagree with the sentiment.
"Don't tempt me," he sighed.
Kim scratched absently at her head
"Or, from a more practical point of view," she began, "we could adopt the strange mutant turkey from another planet, or whatever the hell it is." She sighed and shook her head, "I know it's not ideal but we need a turkey."
"That one's half cooked already," Robin reminded her, "and it's not been basted or stuffed… properly… I had all kinds of plans," he looked fairly disappointed, "they didn't even involve baked beans or tuna."
"I know," Kim said sympathetically. She knew that this Christmas was a big deal to Robin. Despite his love of cooking he hadn't had the opportunity to cook Christmas dinner before. When Simon had been alive they had usually spent Christmas day at his family's house. This was Robin's first opportunity to really flex his muscles on the festive fare. More than that he wanted so much to make Christmas special for Kim, especially after everything they'd gone through in the past year. "It's not too late though, Rob. It must still be salvageable. Get it out the oven, relieve its constipation, stuff it, baste it, smother it with bacon and get the damn thing cooking properly."
Robin nodded slowly.
"You're right," he said, "I know you're right."
"It might not be perfect but it can't have been cooking for all that long – I'm sure you can still pull it off.
"Are you talking about the apple again?" Robin teased, which earned him a playful slap.
"seriously, Rob, if we're going to have Christmas dinner then we've got no choice. I mean, our turkey has buggered off to unchartered territory, right?"
Robin flinched. He hadn't even started thinking about where their turkey actually was.
"Shit," he sighed, rubbing his forehead, "it really has happened again, hadn't it? Gene's probably got our bloody turkey." He shuddered, "Ugh, so that means the one in the oven has been prepared by…"
Kim blanched.
"Don't say it or I won't be able to eat it!" she shuddered.
"There's probably a pint of scotch sloshing around inside that thing," Robin commented. He paused and looked at Km seriously "Wait, does this mean…" he paused and bit his lip for a moment, "if we've had a grand turkey swap then does that mean it's Christmas… in both places?" He saw Kim's expression change as his words brought to her mind a possibility she hadn't thought about, "Shit. We've synchronised."
"I don't think the two worlds have been in synch before," Kim said quietly.
Robin sank to the ground, his head in his hands.
"Is that why we're getting so much weird stuff happening?" he asked.
Kim thought about that.
"It probably doesn't exactly help," she said quietly.
Robin looked her in the eye.
"Alex really needs to get home," he said quietly.
For some time neither spoke. They both knew that Robin's words were true. Alex needed to get back to the life she'd left behind. She needed to be back with Gene, taking back the life she'd led for so many years.
"Well," Kim began quietly, "maybe if the worlds are in time with one another that will help. She'll get back. And we'll help her," She brushed the hair away from his eye and looked at him seriously. "We'll get her back where she belongs, Rob. And in the meanwhile, there's a turkey sitting in our oven with a severe case of piles that really needs some TLC. So for now let's concentrate on that and try to put this out of our minds for a while. OK?"
Robin nodded slowly.
"OK," he said quietly.
Together they got to their feet and walked nervously back to the kitchen. They peered at the oven and to their shock it was quiet and the glow from inside was no longer visible.
"Weird," frowned Kim, "I don't remember either of us switching it off?"
"We didn't, we just legged it," Robin said quietly. Their shocked glances turned from the oven to each other and back again.
"Alright," Kim began, "let's… let's just open the oven door and see what the situation is. OK?" Robin nodded and they both reached for the door. "Count of three?" Kim suggested.
"OK."
"One… two… three…"
One oven door opened. One empty shelf stared back at them.
"Argh!" cried Robin, "It's buggered off as well!"
"What the hell?" Kim cried, clutching her head.
"Now we haven't got any bloody turkey!" cried Robin. He froze and his eyes turned to the fridge. "U-unless…." He stammered, unsure he even wanted to know the answer. Slowly he crept to the fridge and opened the door.
A large, raw turkey stared back at them.
With an apple up its bottom.
"ARGH!" screamed Robin, hiding behind Kim.
"Oh god, not another one," Kim cried, her eyes fixed on the strange fruity addition.
"How can it just sit there, staring at us as though everything's normal?" cried Robin, "like a bloody reverse suckling pig."
He slammed the door and they both backed away from it. This was proving to be the creepiest Christmas on record.
~xXx~
1996
Gene swigged from his bottle of scotch as he paced around the kitchen.
"Bloody turkeys," he mumbled, "you think all you have to do is neck 'em and they'll behave. But no, you close yer eyes for a minute and they bugger off out of yer oven and into yer fridge."
If anything, the part that annoyed him the most was that half an hour of cooking time had been wasted. Despite not knowing the first thing about preparing Christmas lunch he was starving and couldn't wait to tuck into whatever resulted from his efforts.
"Better throw me spuds on," he mumbled, opening the oven again and reaching in with a tea towel to pull out the baking tray. To his great surprise the turkey he pulled out was already half-cooked. "What the bloody hell…?"
He dumped the bird on the counter and stared at it. This… this was his turkey, he was fairly sure. It was smaller than the mysterious second one that had appeared in the refrigerator, and it looked like it had been cooking for a while. What happened to the big turkey? What happened to the one he'd just put in the oven a short time ago?
"Bugger, now nothing else is going to be ready!" he cried, realising that that turkey was going to be cooked on time after all. Letting forth a string of expletives he began to rush around, putting on the rest of the festive food. Once again he cursed himself for taking on the challenge in the first place – and if he never saw a turkey again it would be far too soon.
~xXx~
2011
"There," Robin slid the tray into the oven with a satisfied sigh. Once some brief surgery had been undertaken to remove the spherical red fruit from a turkey's unmentionables it had been plain sailing from there and he'd stuffed and basted the bird before seasoning and covering with slices of streaky bacon. He thought Kim was going to drown in her own drool before the damn thing was even in the oven.
"I know what I said before about rescuing the half-cooked turkey but, honestly," she began, "watching the expert at work – I'm so glad our own turkey found its way home. I can't wait for Christmas dinner."
"What happened to still running off yesterday's fry-ups and not eating for a week?" Robin asked, one eyebrow raised.
"I lied," Kim told him as she rubbed her stomach in anticipation.
"Well, we've got a long while to go yet," Robin told her, "so let's leave the turkey to get acquainted with the oven and see whether Noel Edmonds is darkening the TV schedules this year.
"shouldn't we…" Kim began before trailing away.
"What?"
Kim bit her lip. She felt a little silly.
"Keep guard?" she said, "over the turkey. In case it does Poultry Swap again."
Robin almost laughed. That sounded like a new channel 4 reality show.
"I think it should be safe for now," he said taking her hand and pulling her from the kitchen.
"I'm just a bit freaked out still," Kim told him.
"Yeah?" she nodded. "Well, you know what the cure for that is, don't you?"
Kim frowned.
"What?"
"Bed."
~xXx~
1996
Gene wiped the sweat from his forehead as he finally finished putting on all the other parts of the meal. So they weren't exactly Michelin star standard. It was better than nothing. So the roast potatoes were suspiciously dolphin-shaped. Well that was how he was used to doing them. It wasn't like he did that on porpoise. *
(* Ahem… sorry…)
He marched into the lounge and dropped heavily into a chair.
"Well?"
Gene eyed Simon.
"Well what?"
"Finished having your turkey freak-outs now?" Simon asked.
"Just wait until you taste me festive masterpiece," Gene told him, "you'll soon cease yer mockery."
"I'll believe it when I see it," sighed Simon, folding his arms and leaning back in the couch.
~xXx~
2011
"Got to check on the turkey," Robin protested.
"Just a few more minutes," Kim pleased.
"You said that earlier and we found our turkey had absconded," Robin reminded her.
Kim reluctantly conceded defeat and allowed Robin out of bed to check on the progress in the kitchen.
"Fine," she said, "but when we've established that the turkey is in its rightful place we're going back to bed."
It was strange but even after the events of earlier Robin truly expected to find everything as it should have been in the kitchen, so to open up the oven and find a well-cooked, non-basted, baconless turkey with an apple jammed somewhere unpleasant staring back at him came as quite a shock.
"Argh!"
The scream was all Kim needed to hear.
"Oh no… oh no, you've got to be joking…" she cried and as Robin stepped back for her to see the issue for herself she realised that the worst had indeed happened.
"Kim, what the hell do we do now?" cried Robin, "it's that other mutant turkey again, it's dry as a bone, it's far too small and –" he gulped, "and it still has an apple up its arse."
Kim shook her head, completely baffled.
"I don't know," she said, "I really don't…" she took a deep breath. "Alright, first, take it out the oven. Maybe it's salvageable. You've got more stuffing and bacon, right?"
"I suppose so," sighed Robin, "but it's half cooked now. It won't absorb all the flavours."
"Still better than nothing." Said Kim, "take the turkey out, start cooking the potatoes and get the veg ready, then stuff and dress the turkey, free up its backside and then put it back on."
Robin sighed. His perfect Christmas lunch was edging further into the realm of impossibility but he knew that he had little choice.
"Alright," he sighed, "I suppose that's logical."
"I'll help," Kim offered.
"I'm not turning this into a turkey fry-up," Robin warned.
"That's a shame, I quite liked the idea of fried sprouts," Kim teased.
Together they set about trying to rescue something from the meal. As Robin tried to get some moisture back in the turkey and to adorn it with bacon slices Kim managed to get the vegetables on without burning anything. Eventually everything was cooking, simmering , roasting or boiling and with an exhausted sigh they sank into chairs at the kitchen table.
"Next time I try to make Christmas dinner remind me to handcuff the food down first," Robin groaned.
~xXx~
1996
"Hadn't you better check on the food?" Simon asked.
"It's not going anywhere," said Gene, just hoping that he was right to say that.
"Yeah, but aren't you supposed to be basting it or something?"
Gene sighed and stood up.
"Anything to shut the Shoebury wind trap," he mumbled heading to the kitchen. He supposed he really should be checking on everything. Besides, it was a good excuse to top up his scotch.
Alcohol first, he decided, reaching for the bottle and filling his glass. He took a mouthful of the liquid and absorbed the flavour before setting the bottle down and addressing the oven.
"Alright, turkey, let's see how yer tan's coming along," he mumbled as he opened the door.
A pale and barely cooked bird stared back at him from between rashers of bacon.
Gene considered his options. The first possibility was to pass out. He thought that was a fairly good choice.
The second was to down the rest of his scotch and hope inspiration would strike. Well, that was definitely a good option, so down the hatch it went.
The third option was to scream. That was a bit girly. Not an option.
So option four:
"Turn off all me bloody veg and shove up the heat on the bird," Gene decided.
~xXx~
2011
"I am genuinely scared to go and look again," Robin admitted to Kim.
"Me too," Kim shuddered. It was fast reaching the point where they were getting too scared of turkeys and apples to even think about eating.
"We have to though," Robin said quietly.
Kim swallowed.
"I know," she whispered.
Eventually they drew together their courage and faced the wrath of the kitchen. Neither were surprised to open the oven door and find their original turkey staring back at them. Both considered bursting into tears. Both considered going on a turkey murdering spree to show their frustration.
"I can't deal with any more turkey shenanigans," Robin cried.
"I know, me neither," Kim shook her head, "Rob… I hate to say it but I think it might be time to give up. There's only going to be one winner here, and it's not us. It's the stupid bird who enjoys apple insertions."
"Oh ew!" Robin clasped his hand to his mouth, "did you have to put it like that?"
"Sorry," Kim apologised.
Robin stared at the hotchpotch of pans on the oven.
"Alright. One last try," he said, "I'll turn some of these off. We'll give the turkey one last chance to stay put. We'll cook it for another half an hour and then finish off the veg. And if we find some other, overcooked turkey waiting for us the next time we open the oven then…" he sighed, "beans on toast it is."
Kim sighed and leaned heavily against him.
"Rob, by this point I'm so hungry that even your bloody cravings sound good." She paused, "as long as that doesn't include fishy biscuits."
"No, it doesn't."
"Good."
~xxx~
1996
"What's that smell?"
Gene was perturbed to find Simon wrinkling up his nose.
"That's me fantastic festive feast," he scowled.
"Well, far be it from me to tell the chef how to do his job but your fantastic festive feast smells like it might be on fire," said Simon.
"Bollocks."
"I can smell smoke, Gene," Simon started to get more worried now, "honestly, I'm sure I can."
"Relax, Shoebury," Gene sighed, "leave it to the expert."
The bleeping of the smoke alarm made Simon jump to his feet.
"what, the expert at fire detection?" he cried as he ran through to the kitchen to see smoke pouring from the oven. After coughing and spluttering he managed to open the kitchen window, then switch off the oven and open the door to find a singed bird staring back. "God, Gene!" he coughed, "you only checked on it twenty minutes ago! How can it burn that fast?"
"Don't ask me!" Gene cried, "bastard bird was only half bloody done!"
He fanned away some of the smoke and could clearly see that the turkey before him was smaller than the last one he'd encountered. His original was back. Back, and black. He choked a little as he donned a pair of oven gloves and hauled the turkey from the oven, sitting it on the counter. He stared at it, completely bewildered by the events of the day and pissed off with the existence of the stupid gobbling dimwit.
"Well?"
Gene looked at Simon, whose arms were folded and whose stomach was rumbling.
"Well what?" he demanded.
"Well what are we going to eat now?" Simon demanded, "you told me everything was under control! You promised me a slap-up Christmas lunch!"
"Not my fault yer oven was defective," Gene huffed.
"Defective?" cried Simon, "there was nothing wrong with my bloody oven last weekend when you cooked up a storm, was there?"
"I cannot be held accountable for culinary malfunctions," Gene snorted.
"Oh yeah? Tell that to my stomach!" cried Simon, "I told you I'd just buy turkey slices but no, that wasn't good enough for you! And now what? What are we supposed to eat?"
Gene hesitated.
"You get the tuna, I'll get the biscuits," he said.
~xXx~
2011
"No…. it can't be… it can't be…"
"Oh, it's not happened again…?" Kim cried in alarm.
Robin turned around with a smile and stepped back.
"One perfect turkey," he told her.
"What? You're kidding?" Kim peered into the oven and gasped as their own turkey stared back at them, done to perfection, "you mean it actually stayed where it was supposed to be this time?"
"The prodigal turkey came home for Christmas," he told her.
Kim breathed a very deep sigh of relief.
"Thank… god… for that," she closed her eyes and leaned against the fridge.
Robin collapsed into a chair.
"I cannot believe what we've had to go through today," he mumbled in exhaustion.
"You're telling me."
Robin rubbed his head.
"Christmas dinner is supposed to be the most fattening meal of the year," he said, "you're not supposed to expend more calories cooking the damn thing than you take in."
"Well, we never have done things the easy way," Kim commented.
Robin smiled.
No," he said, "you're right, we haven't."
Kim reached out her hand and dragged the exhausted Robin back to his feet.
"Come on," she said, "let's serve this thing before it goes on another long holiday."
As they busily dished out vegetables and carved up the wandering turkey neither could quite believe how complicated one meal had become. Robin could only be thankful that all had worked out in the end because he was one step away from making a batch of fishy biscuits and he supposed that would likely have resulted in the retraction of his Christmas presents at the very least, and quite possibly the termination of his relationship as well.
"Some Christmas", he mumbled as he watched Kim carving up the bird.
Kim turned to him and somehow couldn't contain her smile.
"Yes," she said with a slight giggle, "it certainly has been."
For all the turkey trauma, to Kim it had still been just about perfect. After all, she'd been able to share it with Robin. When it came down to it, that was all that really mattered.
