Childhood and Old AgeTo her disgust, Hannah was sent straight to bed. Just as though she was still a baby. Huh!
First thing the following morning, she ran over to the dresser to pick out some new clothes for herself and then went to look for her mother. Ellie was outside, as usual.
“Maman! Can I learn to cook now? I want to make myself the biggest, bestest birthday cake ever!”
“Well, maybe you’d better start a bit smaller. Biscuits and fairy cakes, maybe? I’ve heard you can get special little ovens for children. Papa’s still asleep, so shall we go online on his computer and have a look?”
Being the only child in a wealthy family has its advantages: Maman was only too happy to pay for same-day delivery. Tante Grace, delighted that someone was finally taking after her, helped Hannah to unpack the oven and set it up in her room, while Papa volunteered to be Taster-in-Chief. Grand-mère Pearl just carried on fishing, as usual.
By mid-afternoon, Hannah was happily mixing up her first batch of dough.
She tried all of the beginner’s recipes in the little cookery book that came with the oven and was really starting to get the hang of it when her great-great-aunt interrupted her.
“Sorry, Hannah, but you will have to go to school soon. You need to be tutored to give you a good start. There’ll be plenty of time for baking tomorrow.”
“But why do I need to learn this? I want to cook!”
“OK, so let’s pretend they’re cake ingredients instead of just numbers. The recipe says you need the same amount of butter and sugar, and twice as much flour. So, if you’re using two ounces of butter, how much flour do you need?”
Once she’d seen a use for arithmetic, Hannah got on pretty well. By evening, Grace halted the lesson.
“I think we’ve done enough. You’re not going to be at primary school long enough to get on the honour roll, so we might as well stop there. Why don’t you go and play outside while it’s still light? I’ll fish and keep an eye on you so your Mum won’t fret about you falling in one of the ponds.”
“Maman? Papa a dit que…”
“In Simlish please, Hannah. No-one else will speak French at school, remember. You ought to practise.”
“D’acc… I mean, all right. Papa said that I need to have a good job when I grow up and earn lots of money. Could I be a cooking lady?”
“Well, top chefs certainly earn a lot – and no-one in the family’s been one yet.”
“Why does that matter?”
“Do you remember me telling you when you were little that we’re a special family?”
“Yes – and Papa said I’m the speciallest because I’m the last.”
“I’m not sure about that. You wouldn’t be here if anyone before you had failed. Anyway, we all have to do different things with our lives. You can be a chef if you want – although you’d have to start out by just helping in the kitchen. Washing up, probably.”
“But I don’t like washing up! Haven’t they got a dishwasher?”
Still, it was something to think about. That night, she dreamed about making the best food in the world and everyone queuing up to taste it.
She woke up inspired: why not try selling her food now? She set up a folding table outside the gates, drew a sign to advertise her wares and laid out everything she’d cooked the previous day. Then she waited for customers.
And waited.
The paparazzi took pictures but didn’t buy anything. She heard them calling her a junior entre-something. It sounded like a French word! Maybe Maman was wrong and some people in Starlight Shores did speak French, after all.
No-one else appeared.
Then Papa had an idea. He didn’t have to go to work today. Why didn’t they both go into town and set up her stall outside the coffee shop? People liked cakes and biscuits with their coffee – and he could play the guitar so they’d have music while they ate and drank.
It was a good plan. A few people even stopped to listen. But no-one felt like tipping the musician or buying baked goods from his cute daughter.
And then something else happened.
Why hadn’t anyone told her it was Papa’s birthday? She could have made him a proper cake. As it was, she begged a candle from the proprietor, stuck it on top of her best chocolate muffin and presented it to him.
Then they packed up the stall and went home.
The next day was school. It was OK, although there didn’t seem to be many children in her class. And in the evenings, homework done, she carried on playing with her little oven and talking about food with Tante Grace.
As the end of Hannah’s childhood approached, her parents discussed her future: her obvious talents (well, she was their daughter) versus the general lack of opportunities in town.
“She’s good, isn’t she? This is yummy! She really ought to succeed as a chef.”
“But you said she must also have friends. What if nobody is left to be her friend? You are the one who said that Starlight Shores was turning into a ghost town.”
“I know. It’s a worry. But there are a few other kids at school and she could always go and visit your family and make some friends in Champs les Sims. Besides, people always seem to appear when something is happening.”
At her gig the following evening, she was less sure. Her audience was… mostly missing. And then, as she was about to start her set, the sparkles hit and, for the second time, Ellie had a birthday onstage.
Ooh! She’d heard about old-age backache.
Although, actually, she didn’t feel too bad. Or look too bad (if you could judge by an arm seen under stage lighting).
This might actually be OK.
She welcomed the audience (all one of her) and launched into her first number.
As she finished with the usual encore of
Oogie Fever, Ellie began to feel that this ageing business wasn’t as bad as everyone made out.
At least, not until she woke up the next day with aches in places she’d never previously been aware of. Was it, in fact, time to take things a bit easier?
Next chapter
Ellie’s last birthday should have happened as soon as Hannah was born – her career progress was so slow that she took nearly as long as Pearl to finish her requirements – but she binged on life fruit and went back to join Louis in mid-adulthood.
