Episode 18

Daisy Worthington walked into the kitchen of Split Feather Farm. She was in her element; a room full of men to feed. As well as her son John and Grandson Darren, they had now been joined by her youngest son, Brian. For some strange reason he had brought along the funny looking Policeman (or so he bloomin' said he was !) Yaxley Farcett. Daisy looked across the kitchen at Farcett. 'I 'spose yule want a bloomin' cake 'an all woancher ?' Ignoring the worried looking glances from John and Darren, he nodded, fully aware that any one over fifty years of age takes it personally if you refuse an offer of food. Daisy poured out cups of tea for the men and then placed the Cake Tin From Hell on the kitchen table. 'Now then ! Who wants a fancy !!'

John mentioned something about having had a huge lunch with his wife, Anne, only a couple of hours before. Darren said he had been eating crisps all afternoon and Brian explained that he had been overdoing the Hobnobs a bit too much lately. Yaxley, as the newcomer, and keen to get into a potential witnesses good books bravely enthused 'Yes please. I'm starving.' Although three of the four had indicated that they were not in the mood or in Fen parlance, 'Hoved', Daisy Worthington completely ignored them. 'Goo on. Get 'em down you. Yor all working men'. She looked at Farcett; 'apart from you. I'm not sure about you'. She removed the lid and passed the tin around the room. John, Brian and Darren reached into the tin and after a rather long time deciding took out their choice of 'baked delight'. Brian passed the tin to Yaxley, whispering under his breath. 'Sorry mate. Your lucks out'.

Yaxley put the tin on his lap and gazed in. Sitting sadly at the side of the tin was what appeared to be, at first glance, a stuffed toy. Unknown to Yaxley, this lonesome cake had first been purchased nine days before. In it's long life (for a cake) it had been out on display on a plate five times, stood out in the sun three times and been dropped on the floor twice. It had been around the block. With it's blue tinge and short growth of what looked like hair, Yaxley didn't know whether to eat it or comb it. Because of Daisy's failing eyesight and wandering memory, she was unaware of the horrors she kept in her tin and didn't realise that each tea time was a game of 'Cake Roulette' for her family.

Yaxley was just about to chance a refusal when Daisy sensed a cake 'refusenik'. 'Git the bloomin' thing down you boy. If you get a bit of fat on you, you might be able to catch the bloke what stuck a pitchfork into young Dixon's bloomin' chest !" Yaxley quietly conceded defeat and picked up the cake. If it had been a dog at a Animal Shelter it would have licked him for being chosen. In fact, with all the bacteria and growth on this particular 'fancy', given another couple of days it would be able to lick him. Given a further month, a full scale terror attack on New York wouldn't be out of the question.

Yaxley decided to be brave, in the manner of a 'down in one' in the pub. He removed the paper cake cup and shoved it into his mouth and swiftly took a swig of tea to aid the passage of the 'fancy'. The overwhelming taste seemed to be of penicillin. By the time the cake was moving down in his throat, Yaxley was having flashbacks of visits to the dentist, hospital and the first day of a school term. It was a bleachy, mediciney, scourering kind of a taste. It was bloody disgusting. He looked across at Daisy Worthington who was obviously waiting for his verdict. Yaxley smiled at her; 'Bloomin' lovely !'

[Next Episode - Episode 19]