Prompt from Winter Winks: Christmas Cake

Tea with Mrs. Armstrong

"It is so kind of you to help me with the groceries, Mr. Holmes."

"Not at all, Mrs. Armstrong," replied Holmes, following the elderly lady through her garden door into the kitchen.

"Will you stay for tea?" she asked, setting her shopping basket on the table in the middle of the room. "Please. It is the least I can do."

"I would be delighted," he said, setting the two overstuffed sacks of food and cans beside her basket. "May I help putting away your groceries?"

"Would you?" she asked. "So kind. Let me put the kettle on first. The water will be ready by the time we're done."

With the kettle on the range, the pair set about putting things where they belonged, Holmes smiling softly at the old tune Mrs. Armstrong hummed. She was a cheery woman a year or two younger than Holmes, and had been the first of his neighbors to introduce herself when he relocated to Sussex from London, inviting him to join her and her husband, Charles, for tea. In the months since, they had come across one another in the village, gradually building a friendship in spite of their very different personalities. It was Mr. Armstrong's interest in bees that had brought them into closer relations offering his practical experience to Holmes's study, and Mrs. Armstrong's knowledge of gardening and what flowering plants grew best in the local environment.

"There now, Mr. Holmes, just make yourself comfortable and I shall get the kettle."

Holmes took his usual seat at the small table with its doily and oil lamp in the middle and Mrs. Armstrong bustled about, setting her tea service on the wicker tray she always used.

"There it is," she sighed, setting the laden tray on the table and moving the oil lamp aside. She poured his cup full of steaming water and set the plain little diffuser in it. "You just help yourself to the biscuits, Mr. Holmes and I will join you in a moment. I have one more thing to do. Just remembered."

"I don't mind waiting for you," he said.

"I won't be more than a minute," she said, going to her cupboard and retrieving a bottle of brandy. "It's my Christmas cake. Must keep it moist. I think it's one of the best I have ever made and I don't want to ruin it."

She set the cake beside the bottle and reached with her right hand to her left as if she were going to remove a ring. Only, the ring was not there.

"Drat," she hissed.

"Something wrong?" asked Holmes, dipping his diffuser a few times into his cup before setting it aside.

"Oh, it's nothing, Mr. Holmes." The expression on her face clearly told him it was not nothing.

"You have lost your ring, Mrs. Armstrong." He sipped his tea, appreciating the rich blend.

"Fairies stole," she said, not seriously.

"Has it been missing for long?" he asked.

"Let me think." Mrs. Armstrong poured brandy into a soupspoon and drizzled the strong scented liquor over the cake as she frowned in thought. "I missed it Four months ago. September, that would be."

"Yes," he said, considering. "I recall you had it the day we met at Mr. Cole's store. You had various fruits and nuts in your basket and said you were going to be baking."

"My! What a memory, Mr. Holmes." She drizzled more brandy over the cake and smiled at him. "I can hardly keep up with things that happened yesterday and you remembering a trifle like that? Amazing."

"I assume you made a thorough search for your ring," he said.

"High and low," she said, nodding. "Charles and I looked all about for it. A sad loss. My wedding band, it was. Charles said he would buy another but I told him not to. It will turn up eventually and like as not, the day he puts the replacement on my hand. Works that way, you know."

Holmes smiled and sipped more tea. He watched as the elderly lady added another spoonful of brandy to the cake.

"That is a Christmas cake, is it not?" he asked.

"Oh yes," she said. "It takes a good deal of time but everyone enjoys it. I do love a good Christmas cake."

"And how much time does it take?" he asked.

"Well, Mr. Holmes, I do these the way my grandmother taught me," she said, corking the brandy and setting the spoon in her sink. "As a matter of fact, that day you recalled a moment ago was the day I purchased most of the ingredients. I collect some of the berries myself, but this needs raisins and hazel nuts and a few other things."

"You purchased the ingredients in September for a cake to be baked in December?"

"Oh no, Mr. Holmes. This recipe calls for moths of care. The cake has to age and the brandy must have time to soak in. Makes it taste ever so much better."

"You baked the cake in September?"

"That's right."

"And you have not seen your wedding band since then?"

"Yes, Mr. Holmes." Mrs. Armstrong's expression slowly changed from attentive to thoughtful to surprised and her eyes snapped down to stare at the cake. "Mr. Holmes!"

"I think you will soon have your ring back, Mrs. Armstrong," he said with a gently amused smile. "Do be careful when eating it, though."