Martha measured 300g of plant-based shea butter on the digital weighing scale. Mostly she prepared by eye, today there were guests – possibly ten in total – to entertain, and due to arrive a little after 2pm, so a little extra care and consideration wouldn’t go amiss. Martha placed the butter in a large glass bowl. She moved the weighing scale aside on the work surface. At the sound of Mary’s footfall on the concreted path leading to the kitchen, Martha halted. A moment later, ankle to collarbone in skin-tight black Lycra, Mary entered through the kitchen door, breathily checking her smartwatch, casually removing the red elasticated headband, her wavy blonde hair falling softly, to settle, quite naturally, onto the delicate slope of her shoulders.
“How many miles?” Martha enquired.
“Four point seven kilometres.”
“Are you slipping, Mary?”
“That funny fellow was in the park.” Mary said, using the heel of her left foot to close the kitchen door.
“We could report him… perhaps?”
Mary shrugged, “He’s probably completely harmless”, and off she sauntered in the direction of her bedroom.
Martha filled the kettle with filtered water.
Martha carried a cup of rosehip tea to the bedroom, placing it on a bedside cabinet while her younger sister wriggled her slim physique out of the Lycra.
“What time is Jonty expected?”
With a sigh, Martha replied, “Jonathan will be here at two o’clock.”
“With his entourage?” Mary giggled.
“Oh, honestly….”
Not especially tall at 5’11’’, dark-haired and handsome in a decidedly sporty way, Reverend Jonathan Helms was unmarried. For his 40th birthday Martha had baked a sugar free date and walnut loaf. This afternoon, as well as the loaf, there would be her sugar free almond and coconut flapjacks.
Both sisters had made disastrous marriages. Mary’s divorce even more rancorous than Martha’s. And both, left virtually penniless to boot! Mercifully their marvellous Aunt Harriet had requested in her last will and testament that the detached, luxury bungalow should be shared between them. Here, the two sisters had lived amicably, if not entirely happily, these past three years.
Covid restrictions temporarily eased, the parishioners, led by Jonathan, of St. Saviour’s Eco Awareness group had taken their meeting into the garden. Mary, wearing a wide brimmed straw hat – to shield her sensitive eyes from the sunlight – was seated, quite naturally, in the middle of the group, comprising two elderly ladies and, including Jonathan, five, not so elderly men. Mary was bare legged under a light summer dress.
In the kitchen waiting for her flapjacks to cool, Martha felt a familiar presence behind her.
“Mary isn’t much use in the kitchen.”
“She is what she is, Martha.”
“It begs a question, I suppose…”
Martha turned to face the handsome man.
“You are worried and upset about many things. Don’t be hard on yourself.”
“It comes quite naturally to me.”
“Join us, Martha”, the Reverend smiled, “Sit beside me.”
“How many miles?” Martha enquired.
“Four point seven kilometres.”
“Are you slipping, Mary?”
“That funny fellow was in the park.” Mary said, using the heel of her left foot to close the kitchen door.
“We could report him… perhaps?”
Mary shrugged, “He’s probably completely harmless”, and off she sauntered in the direction of her bedroom.
Martha filled the kettle with filtered water.
Martha carried a cup of rosehip tea to the bedroom, placing it on a bedside cabinet while her younger sister wriggled her slim physique out of the Lycra.
“What time is Jonty expected?”
With a sigh, Martha replied, “Jonathan will be here at two o’clock.”
“With his entourage?” Mary giggled.
“Oh, honestly….”
Not especially tall at 5’11’’, dark-haired and handsome in a decidedly sporty way, Reverend Jonathan Helms was unmarried. For his 40th birthday Martha had baked a sugar free date and walnut loaf. This afternoon, as well as the loaf, there would be her sugar free almond and coconut flapjacks.
Both sisters had made disastrous marriages. Mary’s divorce even more rancorous than Martha’s. And both, left virtually penniless to boot! Mercifully their marvellous Aunt Harriet had requested in her last will and testament that the detached, luxury bungalow should be shared between them. Here, the two sisters had lived amicably, if not entirely happily, these past three years.
Covid restrictions temporarily eased, the parishioners, led by Jonathan, of St. Saviour’s Eco Awareness group had taken their meeting into the garden. Mary, wearing a wide brimmed straw hat – to shield her sensitive eyes from the sunlight – was seated, quite naturally, in the middle of the group, comprising two elderly ladies and, including Jonathan, five, not so elderly men. Mary was bare legged under a light summer dress.
In the kitchen waiting for her flapjacks to cool, Martha felt a familiar presence behind her.
“Mary isn’t much use in the kitchen.”
“She is what she is, Martha.”
“It begs a question, I suppose…”
Martha turned to face the handsome man.
“You are worried and upset about many things. Don’t be hard on yourself.”
“It comes quite naturally to me.”
“Join us, Martha”, the Reverend smiled, “Sit beside me.”
