Season to Taste by Natalie Young Page A

She’d
     been through enough by then. She was forty-one. She wasn’t the kind of person who wanted to settle down, and we didn’t have
     things. She liked to be in a position from which she could spring and run at once; and in the meantime, she needed a bed for
     the two of us, and somewhere to store our clothes.
    â€œAnother thing you don’t know about my childhood, Jacob, is the fact that I had a job. I’d work for the Becketts in their
     shop at the weekends and sometimes in the afternoons. I liked doing the pricing, getting things ready for delivery, and weekend
     mornings were busy with locals coming in for staples. Then the holidaymakers buying nets and flags to take to the beach. It
     was cool in there, the best place to be, I thought.
    â€œMum found it deathly in the shop. She preferred working with Mrs. Beckett in the guest rooms, dragging rugs out into the
     air and beating them, flipping beds, driving the vacuum back and forth. So I sat at the counter when I was home from school,
     and I was quiet there, and diligent. I didn’t read, or allow my thoughts to wander. I sat on the stool and waited for my customers.
     I liked being in the window, close to the sea. I sat and listened and watched. Which was how I got to hear about Ian and how
     he hadn’t gone to work on an oil rig and he’d never had a wife. He was all anyone talked about for a little while. Who the
     hell was he? they said. Wasn’t who he said he was. And it gave people the creeps now to think about his long, skinny body
     shambling round the town. So sweet, they said. Unassuming. Always are, they said, when they’re on the run. Could be Irish,
     they said. Come here to keep hush. They talked about it right by the counter, and it didn’t matter to me in the end because
     I learned that the story about Ian Harper and my mother gave the local people something to take their minds off things.”

    107.  All sorts of interesting recipes can be found on the Internet.
    108.  A sweet pineapple marinade can be used on any cut of meat to give it a fresh, light, fruity lift. The one I’d like to suggest
     has a great Hawaiian teriyaki flavor and will work beautifully with strips of meat laid over rice.
    109.  It takes all of six minutes to make and will give you about two cups of sauce.
    110.  Ingredients: 1 cup crushed pineapple. Absolutely fine to use the tins you’ve got in the cupboard.
    1/3 cup soy sauce
1/3 cup honey
1/4 cup cider vinegar
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon ginger powder
1/4 teaspoon powdered cloves
    Preparation: mix all the ingredients together and use immediately or store in an airtight container for up to seven days.
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    Lizzie’s mother had come to the wedding and hung back, looking awkward in pastels. Once or twice she’d glanced at her daughter’s
     stomach, just to check, Lizzie thought, for any accident that might have prompted the decision to wed this rather odd woodland-dwelling
     antiques man. Who had been charming on his wedding day. Open-armed and steering everyone about. As if, like Lizzie with the
     axe and saw that desperate Monday morning, he’d always known what to do.
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    At seven it was dark. She drove up to the pub in the car with the cake on the front seat. Mike was waiting for her, standing
     in the porch smoking a roll-up. He was wearing a red bow tie, and his dreadlocks were slicked back away from his face.
    Lizzie stood in the porch and peeled back the tin foil. The shoes had come out really well. They were black and white striped.
    â€œMan!” he said. Then he showed her how his hand was shaking. He blew on his hands and shifted his weight from one foot to
     the other.
    Lizzie was quiet. It was dark in the porch, and cold. She looked at the shoes.
    â€œI think they’ll be fine,” she said, feeling the heat coming off his body.
    â€œThey’re really beautiful,” he said.
    Lizzie swallowed while