Many and much thanks to my brother for his help with this chapter. A little shorter, but short and sweet I hope.
Fruit Cake
"Belle?"
"Yes, darling?"
"May I ask a stupid question?"
"Of course, darling."
"Why are we standing outside Granny's in the middle of the night?"
Belle looked at Gold, who was eyeing their surroundings with a vague sense of unease, despite the fact that he spent the majority of his working life in the immediate vicinity.
"It isn't the middle of the night," she pointed out. "It's still comparatively early evening."
"Why are we standing outside Granny's in the middle of the comparatively early evening, then?" Gold countered. "Everywhere is closed. Even Granny's is closed."
Belle patted his shoulder with an easy smile.
"Oh, ye of little faith."
It was at this juncture that Granny joined them, jangling keys and shuffling paperwork. She unlocked the café and switched the lights on, beckoning for Belle and Gold to follow her inside and take a seat.
"Right," she said, once her guests were settled, placing the sheaf of papers onto the table in front of them and giving them a grin of Cheshire cat proportions before uttering a single word. "Cake."
"Cake?" Gold repeated warily. He sounded completely confused, but since he'd just spent a day in court, Belle would forgive him his befuddlement.
"Cake," she affirmed to him. "Our wedding cake, to be precise."
"Ah." Understanding began to dawn on Gold's face, but a furrow remained between his brows. "Is there a reason why we're here and not at your house, Mrs Lucas?"
"You haven't been in my kitchen recently, have you, Mr Gold," Granny said, a twinkle in her eye. "Practically every surface is covered in various wool or plush items for the imminent new arrival. Oh, I can't help it. He or she's my first great-grandchild!"
Belle smiled. Ruby's mid-pregnancy scan was coming up in a couple of weeks; she and Archie had been agonising over whether to find out the baby's gender or not for the past… well, ever since her first scan, really, when Ruby had been convinced that her baby had been a boy only to be told by the apologetic sonographer that what she thought was the necessary male appendage was in fact the umbilical cord.
Seeing that they were finally all on the same page, Granny began, bringing Belle's attention back to the task at hand from her flights of fancy on impending godchildren.
"Well, there's so much to decide! Round or square or hexagon or whatever other shape you fancy, fruit cake or Madeira or chocolate – I'd advise against sponge, doesn't stay fresh long enough. How many tiers, decorated with fruit or flowers or swans or another animal of your choice? Traditional bride and groom centrepiece? Comical bride and groom centrepiece? Risqué bride and groom centrepiece? Actually, better not, Henry and Grace will be there. What about cupcakes? Cupcakes are a very fashionable choice for wedding cakes these days. Or a croquembouche? Everyone loves profiteroles. I reckon on about four per person; three if you want the cream laced with brandy – everyone's already going to be off their heads. Or you could throw the cake concept completely out of the window; I made a giant chocolate chip cookie 'wedding cake' once…"
Belle, amused by Granny's monologue, cast a glance at Gold, whose expression had gone from 'comprehending' to 'extremely scared' during the course of the older woman's speech.
"Erm… Fruit cake?" he suggested weakly.
"Excellent choice," Granny said. "Give me a minute."
Granny vanished into the kitchen and came back with plates, cake forks, and several Tupperware containers. "I've got light fruit cake, rich fruit cake, fruit cake with extra cherries, fruit cake with extra nuts – don't you dare say a word, either of you – and fruit cake with pineapple."
"Pineapple?"
"All the best cakes have a not-so-secret ingredient."
Granny was absolutely in her element; Belle knew that she enjoyed baking and used every excuse she could to create the most fantastical cakes imaginable, but she was fairly sure that she had never seen her former employer quite so happy and animated as she continued to chatter on about the various wedding cakes that she had made and seen in her long and illustrious career in catering and hospitality.
The only trouble was, Belle didn't really like fruit cake all that much. She knew that it was the traditional cake of choice for weddings, and with good reason – it kept fresh for a long time, it was incredibly dense and sturdy for tiering, and it took icing and marzipan well. She would eat it, that wasn't a problem, but for her wedding, Belle had wanted something special, something that she would enjoy and remember.
Granny was watching her as she sampled the various different kinds of fruit cake.
"I know, you're not much of a fruit cake girl," she said to Belle. "Chocolate's your thing. I've done sachertorte wedding cakes before, and Ruby's already put in an order for a cinnamon red velvet cake if she ever gets married."
Belle shook her head. "We're having a chocolatey dessert; it would be overkill to have a chocolatey cake as well."
"Madeira then," Granny suggested. "It's excellent for sculpting with. You can practically carve it."
Gold wrinkled his nose. "Not Madeira, please. My mother used to make it. Badly. I don't think I've ever got over the experience."
"It is a bit boring for a wedding cake," Granny conceded. They remained silent for a moment before a grin spread over the older woman's face.
"I've had an idea," she said. "Give me a minute. I've got the perfect cake. One I can guarantee you'll both love."
Granny disappeared back into the kitchen, leaving Gold and Belle looking at each other as they listened to her jovial humming. She reappeared a minute or so later bearing a plate, upon which stood a large round cake covered in white icing – but fluffy frosting rather than hard royal icing.
"Here we are," she said, slicing a knife into the cake and cutting three generous pieces. "You can't tell me that you both don't like that."
Belle looked down at the cake that Granny had handed her and burst out laughing.
"Granny, you can't have a carrot cake as a wedding cake! It's too soft, the tiers would sink!"
"Miss French, have I ever let you down before? Has my carrot cake ever let you down before, for that matter? You two owe your very marriage to this carrot cake, the least you can do is honour its vital role in the founding of your relationship by giving it a place at your wedding reception."
"And eating it, a fine homage," Gold said drily.
"Carrot cakes are made to be eaten, Mr Gold," Granny said, a knowing, motherly tone in her voice. "That is their sole purpose in life. They live for nothing else, except matchmaking. And now that my carrot cakes have brought you two together, they want nothing more than to be eaten by you both. They care for nothing else."
Gold rubbed his left temple with the hand not holding his cake fork. "Did I overdose on my painkillers at lunchtime? I think I'm high. Are we really discussing the motivations of carrot cake?"
"Of course," Granny said. "I regularly discuss the motivations, thoughts and feelings of my various baked creations; it's an entire branch of philosophy all to itself. Look at fruitarians. But whether the carrot cake wants to be eaten or not is beside the point. The point is: would you like a carrot wedding cake?"
Belle looked at Gold – who had either given up entirely or had accepted that he was tripping the light fantastic on his medication – happily munching on his slice of cake. She didn't think that he would have any problem with a carrot cake wedding cake, but her initial fears of Granny's masterpiece collapsing halfway through the reception were still not assuaged.
"Is it possible?" she asked. "Tell me honestly."
Granny raised one eyebrow. "Belle, my dear, would I have offered to make you a carrot wedding cake if such a thing was impossible?"
"But it's so soft…" Belle said. "I know you can get firmer recipes, but then it wouldn't be your carrot cake."
"It's not the cake that's important, it's the way that you build it," Granny explained. "I've made chocolate wedding cakes before now, and they are far softer than a good carrot cake."
"Well…" Belle licked frosting off her fork. It was a good idea. It was a cake they both liked, that couldn't be denied, and Granny's words were true. Carrot cake was more than just a dessert to them. It had indeed been the thing that had brought them together. Whilst she had no doubt that they would have found a way to meet without the intervention of the cake, it just so happened that it was the cake that had been the catalyst to their entire relationship. Having it as their wedding cake would make it so much more meaningful; not simply a white cake that they were having in order to bow to tradition. Their marriage was hardly traditional in any other aspects of the word, so it made no sense to go for a boring royal-iced and marzipaned fruit cake just for the sake of being normal. Being normal was overrated.
She turned to her fiancé.
"Gold?"
"Sorry, what? I think I zoned out at fruitarians."
"Would you like a carrot cake wedding cake?"
Gold contemplated his cake fork before addressing Granny.
"Mrs Lucas, I could quite happily survive on your carrot cake alone. Having a three tiered one for my wedding is no chore at all."
"Excellent!" Granny was beaming. "That's the easy part over."
"Oh God," Gold murmured. "I swear there was none of this at my first wedding; I just turned up and the cake was there. There's more to decide?"
"Well, of course," Granny said. If Belle didn't know better, she'd say that Granny was trying to frazzle Gold's nerves on purpose. "The cake itself is just the canvas. Now you've got to decide how to decorate it…"