Free Caramel Hearts by E.R. Murray

too. They’ll be ready in… five minutes.”
    â€œThanks.”
    Harriet pours herself a glass of cold water. She downs it in one go, pours another, and joins me at the kitchen table. It’s months since we sat here together; we usually eat in our rooms or in front of the TV.
    Last time, we’d been discussing what we’d do if Mam went into residential care again. Visits to Alcoholics Anonymous and outreach support had failed and we knew what was coming. When the social worker started hinting, we weighed up our options: either I went into care or Harriet took a year out of uni. Harriet cried back then as well. I should be grateful, really, that she’s looking over my shoulder. At least she cares.
    â€œSo, what’s going on with all this cooking, then?” asks Harriet.
    I shrug. I’m more interested in what’s wrong with her, but I don’t know how to ask. She’s in charge. Things feel different since she starting playing Mam, despite all the “sisters together” chats. I consider sharing the cookbook with her to see if it brings us closer again, but it’s nice to have something that’s just mine.
    â€œI like it, that’s all.”
    â€œMam used to bake, you know.”
    My mouth falls open. Hatty’s never mentioned this before and I can’t remember Mam baking. Ever.
    â€œMam doesn’t eat, never mind cook!”
    â€œI’m serious!”
    â€œWhat did she make?”
    â€œCakes, mostly. I used to love the smell. It was like…”
    She sniffs at the air.
    â€œLike mine?”
    â€œActually, yes.”
    I smile to myself as I wipe the side down.
    â€œDid you help her?”
    â€œI was too young. She had a friend, Rosa, who used to come over and bake with her. There was talk of opening a café at one point.”
    â€œWhat sort of café?”
    â€œA cake café, I guess.”
    The recipe book; it must have been for the café! It all falls into place. It’s not just a book of cakes and biscuits, it’s a book of Mam’s dreams.
    â€œI was only a kid,” continues Harriet. “So I was more interested in my toys, but I would listen to them fooling around as they worked. When you came along, they usedto sit you next to the counter in your high chair. You didn’t make a peep. It was like you were taking it all in. Maybe that’s why you’re a natural?”
    I beam with pride. I know it’s sad, but I can’t help it. But then I think of what I missed out on and the smile disappears. Why couldn’t Dad have stuck around longer, so I’d have some nice memories too?
    â€œSo what happened?” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.
    â€œI don’t know for definite… Rosa just stopped coming. Not long after that, we moved here. But it wasn’t always bad.”
    â€œI wouldn’t know.”
    â€œDon’t say that! There are people much worse off than us. At least we’ve got each other, right?”
    I pull a face, but really I’m surprised how comforting her words feel. As the warm smell of melting honey fills the kitchen, I close my eyes and try to imagine Mam and Dad here too.
    â€œHmm, that smells so good,” says Harriet, reaching over and giving me a gentle shove. “Better than last time, hey?”
    Despite my embarrassment, I manage to keep my temper.
    â€œI cleaned the oven while you were out.”
    Harriet exaggerates wiping her brow in relief, then gives me this weird, intense stare.
    â€œListen, Liv, you’ll get outta here too, you know. Just hold in there. OK?”
    I nod, confused. It’s Harriet that’s crying. Harriet that’s falling apart. But what does she mean by too ? Is she leaving again? Has she finally given up on me?
    â€œHatty, are you all right?”
    The words come out shaky and slow. Before Harriet can answer, the alarm on my phone sounds, making us both jump.
    â€œSaved by the