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I Like Pears 2 Fanzine
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Published:
2024-04-20
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1,984
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Low-tech Food Preparation For Former Witchfinders

Summary:

In the process of clearing a shed Newt discovers something that might just allow him to prepare a meal for Anathema.

Notes:

Written for the second volume of I Like Pears Zine.

Work Text:

It started with the shed.

One particularly unpleasant spring afternoon Anathema remarked how the shed seemed just big enough to house Dick Turpin and wouldn’t it be something to have a place to put the car in such weather?

Further inspection the following day showed that the shed’s double door was just big enough for the car to  drive through. And that the shed was packed with an assortment of rickety furniture and mouse-nibbled knick knacks, resulting in general clutter and very little free space to allow the shed to actually double as a garage.

A few weekends spent prodding at the various stored items and Anathema asking around, hoping to reunite at least some of them with their potential owners, garnered no result.

Not one to be discouraged easily (his unrequited love for technology had taught him something in that regard), Newt shook a disgruntled mouse out of a faux-leather pillow and offered to tidy the shed up a bit. The place clearly needed some decluttering in any case and once there was some free space inside he could invite The Them for some hot chocolate while a certain small hellhound played the game of Chase the Rodent in the shed.

Three afternoons later, Newt was seriously considering the wisdom of volunteering for the task.

“Do you suppose someone looked at this,” he placed a stool crumbling with dry rot on the lawn, “and thought ‘I will absolutely have some use for this later, I’d better store it?”

“When I asked Mrs Henderson, she said that the shed started out practically empty, just with a shovel and a rake and then the tenants started putting things in there to get them out of the way and kept forgetting about them later. Nobody ever really attempted to deal with them.”

Newt went back into the shed, basking in the dubious glory of being the first to attempt the daunting task, and came back with a stack of magazines tied with a string. 

“Amateur Gardening weekly from the eighties, yes or no?”

“Any pointers there on how to handle that mulberry in the back of the garden?”

“No idea. Though with the way that thing behaves you might need a demonic intervention rather than a gardening magazine.”

“Believe it or not, that is currently my plan B.”

“I thought your plan B was to ask Adam if he wanted to learn gardening?”

“And then I heard his father complaining how Adam’s helping with the garden always results in no work being done and a lot of holes dug by his bored dog.”

“Plan C then?”

“Definitely.”

“Speaking of Adam, I think I saw a skateboard missing a wheel in one corner, we could see if he is interested in using it somehow.”

“That sounds both like a good and a very bad idea,” Anathema stated cautiously before looking at the shed. “Do you want a hand with anything in there? I think I will need to leave soon if I want to catch the Oxford bus and make it to my book club meeting.”

“Nah, I think I’ll manage. I don’t think there is any chance of this getting done today anyway but maybe I can see what’s under the tarp in the corner. I’m keeping my fingers crossed for a lawnmower.”

“If there is one, I very much doubt it’s still in working order.”

“That’s my favourite type. Nowhere to go but up,” Newt grinned ruefully, earning a peck on the cheek from Anathema.

“If you say so. I’ll get those gardening magazines inside and go get changed then. Have fun exploring the Shed of Wonders.”

“Thanks, I will,” the former witchfinder grinned at his girlfriend and pulled her in for a brief hug (accompanied by her protestations that he was getting dust all over her, followed by her very eager kiss) before retreating to the shed. He was really curious what he was going to find under the tarp. 

III

It wasn’t until after he kissed Anathema goodbye and wished her fun at the book club that Newt found the last thing the tarp was snagged on and could finally see what was hiding underneath. As it turned out, it was well worth all the effort and the accompanying grumbling. 

What he found, in short, was a garden grill. Maybe not a new or particularly impressive one but it looked like it should be serviceable enough after a thorough cleaning, which was all one could expect from a garden grill, really. Next to it stood a half-empty bag of Oxford charcoal, adding to the temptation. 

It wasn’t that Newt disliked cooking. On the contrary. He liked cooking very much and was pretty good at food preparation. But any attempts to get more involved in cooking a meal usually didn’t end up too well. 

While Anathema said she actually liked updating her kitchen appliances often and could certainly afford it, he couldn’t quite bring himself to read it as anything more than attempts to make him feel better. Besides, no matter how much she insisted, the fact that a month after Newt moved in with her Argos decided it made business sense to open a branch in Tadfield couldn’t be a coincidence.

He almost gave up on the idea of ever being able to surprise his girlfriend with a warm meal. Now he had to acknowledge the situation might not have been as hopeless as he thought. No advanced technology in cooking over the coals.

He rolled the grill out of the shed, noticing how the wheels squeaked with every movement,  and set about cleaning it and getting it back into working order.

Anathema was going to find a dinner waiting for her when she got back from Oxford.

III

The next hour he spent on cleaning the grill and generally getting it into the most presentable condition achievable with help of a wire brush and generous amounts of vinegar. After he was done he looked at the result critically and nodded to himself.

It was time to prepare the dinner that would be waiting for Anathema to show her he cared (and perhaps woo her a bit while at it).

After a quick shower and change of clothes (who knew one could get this dirty just trying to tidy a shed?), he was finally ready to begin. Luckily all the ingredients were there, in abundance in some cases. More specifically, when it came to the courgettes - Mrs Henderson would drop by every few days sharing the surplus of vegetables from her own garden so they wouldn’t go to waste. For some reason courgettes always featured prominently in this assortment.

With the well-practised moves of someone who from a young age was given all the kitchen tasks that kept him away from the expensive appliances, he tore off even pieces of the aluminium foil in preparation. Then he washed the vegetables and set them on the table next to the cutting board.

All in all, the preparation itself wasn’t hard. He had the tomatoes, peppers and onions sliced in no time and was just mixing the seasoning with olive oil when he started worrying this might be too simple a dish to properly welcome Anathema home.

Still thinking about it, he cut the courgettes in half, seasoned them and arranged all the ingredients on top of each half. Then he settled them on the aluminium foil, carefully folding the top so it would create a little dome over it. He looked at the clock. There were still some preparations to be done but if he was quick about it, he could probably make a simple salad as a side.

He swiftly chopped the remaining tomato and sliced a cucumber, throwing the whole lot into the bowl. There were still a few slices of onion left so he chopped and added those as well.  Olive oil was still there from his preparation of the courgettes and vinegar was on the countertop in the corner, temptingly on display, patiently waiting for the day Anathema would learn to season her chips properly (Newt still wasn’t losing hope that the day would eventually come). Finishing the work by adding some fresh basil, he tossed the salad and went about cleaning the kitchen.

III

The book club was a fun enough activity to participate in and she certainly could think of worse ways of spending an afternoon than debating the narrator's bias in early 20th century novels. Still, Anathema had to admit that she was glad to be coming home with the perspective of spending the evening relaxing with her boyfriend.

The boyfriend who was waiting for her and who greeted her by the door (easy enough to guess the time of her arrival - buses in Tadfield tended to run on a remarkably reliable schedule) with a smile that suggested he was very pleased about something.

“Welcome home, Ana,” he muffled as he hugged her in a greeting.

“You do know I was just in Oxford, right? I could be going there by bike and it would still have taken me only an hour.”

“Still, I’m glad that you’re back.” He pecked her on the cheek. “Leave your bag and come to the garden. The dinner is almost ready.”

“We’re eating in the garden today?” Anathema asked with some curiosity as she set her bag on a hallway cabinet.

“Don’t worry, the kitchen is still intact.”

“I wasn’t worried. But why do I smell smoke then?”

“It’s a surprise. C’mon,” the former witchfinder took her hand.

Intrigued, Anathema followed him to the garden. A smouldering garden grill was standing in the middle of it, with a set table to the side, draped with a linen cloth.

“Surprise!” Newt grinned with a dramatic gesture of revelation. “I couldn't believe my luck when I found the grill in the shed.”

“Did you find a table too? I don’t think we had one for the garden.”

“Ah, no, actually. But I did find something . Those are actually two empty crates with a window shutter on top of them.”

Anathema blinked. “But the cottage doesn’t have shutters on the windows.”

“I know,” They laughed and went to the table hand in hand before Newt poured her a glass of apple juice and pulled a folding chair for her with all the charm he could command. “May I?”

“Thanks,” Anathema took her seat, pulling Newt down for a kiss. 

He leaned into her embrace willingly enough but after a moment he straightened, looking at the grill. “Sorry, we can go back to that in a minute but I need to check on the food.

“Sure. I’ll hold you to that, you know,” she laughed, giving him a playful pat to hurry him along. “Now go get me my food. I’m famished.”

“Right away, my lady!” Newt mock-saluted and took her plate.

A moment later there was a steaming courgette in front of each of them as they sat at the makeshift table, their knees bumping together. Anathema inhaled deeply.

“Smells delicious,” she said, meeting Newt’s gaze with a smile. Then she carefully cut off a steaming bite-sized piece and blew at it for a second. She tasted it, eyes closing as she took in all the flavours. “Tastes delicious too. You really are a great cook when you get a chance to show it.”

Newt blushed. “I can only try. But I’m glad you like it.”

Anathema looked up from her plate again, took his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. 

“Don’t sell yourself short. The food is brilliant and it’s made even better by the fact that you made it for me. I have to give it to you. This is an excellent way of being welcomed home.”

Then she leaned in and finished that interrupted kiss from before. After all, they had to find something to do, waiting for dinner to cool down.