String of Fate

Chapter Eighty Seven

I shifted my bag on my shoulder as I headed towards my house. As always, I glanced towards the old gothic style house that was situated across the street. The three story, five bedroomed place had been on the market for months – even having a few price deductions. Not that I was checking.

I was surprised to see the 'sold' sign on the big gates that separated the house from the rest of the town.

"Daisy, are you coming or what?" My friend, Rebecca, asked from ahead of the path. Her face was a little confused as she looked at me. "It'll be a little weird if I go into your house by myself."

"True." I said, turning away from the house and starting to head after her, swinging the shopping bag a little bit as I walked. She bounded up my path to my porch and gave me a big smile as I unlocked the door. "You're way too happy about being a test subject."

"I know but you're good at cooking." She replied, following me into the kitchen and immediately making a bee-line for the kitchen. After kicking my shoes off, I followed her, putting my bag of shopping on the worktop. "What was on the menu today?"

"You know that I don't share my secrets. Just know that there's going to be some cookies, too." I told her as I tied my hair back and washed my hands, making a start on the pasta bake that I was making her taste. She got her notebook out and started making notes as I cooked. It was something that she always did. If I ever became rich and famous, Rebecca would be the one writing my recipe book.

A little while later, I placed a dish of pasta bake in front of Rebecca and checked the temperature on the cookies. Becky started eating the pasta, hew brow furrowing a little in confusion before they raised and she nodded, eating a lot more. I leaned against the other side of the breakfast bar and ate the portion that I had served for myself. "So, your dream house has been sold."

"I thought I was the only one who noticed." I admitted, leaving my food for a moment and serving out two more bowls. The pasta back that I had made was good – there was a lot of flavour but nothing was too over-powering. My parents would like it when they got home. I would definitely need to make this again. Once I had served out the two portions, I grabbed some containers from the cupboard and made lunches for Rebecca and I tomorrow. "I really need to learn how to master portions of pasta."

"But then you wouldn't make enough to feed us all for a week." Rebecca pointed out. I shrugged, putting the bowl in the sink. I could wash it later. "You're dodging the conversation. The house has sold!"

"You say that like I ever had intentions of actually being able to buy it. I didn't stand a chance of ever getting that place." I told her, eating a bit of my pasta. It was a bummer that the house had sold but I would never have been able to afford it.

"Okay." Rebecca replied, noticing by my reaction that I didn't really want to talk about it, so, she was, hopefully, going to drop the subject. "So, do you have any plans for your birthday?"

"Beck, that's over a month away!" I laughed, glad that she had actually changed the subject. "Yours is before mine! What have you got planned?"

"A big birthday party Saturday at my place. You're going to be there and I've invited a good chunk of the school." She explained, glancing at the cookies. "You're coming. You don't have a choice. I know you're not social but you love me and I want you there."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world." I told her, pulling out one of my grans old cook books that she had given me after I had copied them out for her a few years back. It had some old family recipes that included a lot of cakes. My family used to love baking cakes, and then my mother had loved cooking meals. "Right, what do you think of a strawberry and pineapple cake with pastel decorations?"