The Jacqueline Wilson Christmas Cracker Read online

  I piped a long message in front of all my Nativity figures.

  I never ever thought I’d be wishing Good Will to any man! I decided to add a bit.

  CHARLIE’S CHRISTMAS CAKE

  There are lots of ingredients and lots of steps involved when making a real Christmas cake, so you might want to ask for some help – and you’ll need plenty of time! Try to make your cake a few weeks before Christmas, and keep it wrapped up tightly in foil or a cake tin until you’re ready to eat it.

  For your cake:

  • 225g plain flour

  • ½ tsp mixed spice

  • ½ tsp ground cinnamon

  • 200g butter

  • 200g dark brown sugar

  • 2 tbsp black treacle

  • ½ tsp vanilla essence

  • 4 large eggs

  • 700g mixed dried fruit (choose whatever you like best – sultanas, raisins, apricots and cranberries are all delicious!)

  • 100g chopped mixed peel

  • 150g chopped nuts

  • 100ml strong tea

  For your topping:

  • 200g marzipan

  • 2 tbsp apricot jam

  What to do:

  1. Heat the oven to 150°C. Grease a 20cm round cake tin and line the bottom and sides with baking parchment.

  2. Put the flour, mixed spice and cinnamon into a bowl.

  3. Put the butter and the sugar in a separate mixing bowl and then add the sugar, treacle and vanilla essence, and beat until light and fluffy.

  4. Mix the eggs one at a time into the mixture.

  5. Fold in the flour mixture, then mix in the dried fruit, mixed peel and nuts.

  6. Tip the mixture into the prepared tin and bake in the oven for 3 hours, until a metal skewer pushed into the centre of the cake comes out clean.

  7. Remove from the oven and leave to cool in the tin for 15 minutes. Then turn out on to a wire rack and leave to cool fully.

  8. Once cool, make a few little holes in the cake with a skewer and pour the tea over the top very carefully, so the liquid soaks into the cake.

  9. When you’re ready to decorate the cake, place the cake on a foil board or cake plate. Dust your hands and the work surface with a little icing sugar and knead the marzipan until soft. Roll out half the marzipan to fit the top of the cake and roll out the rest in strips to fit around the sides of the cake. Brush the cake all over with the warmed apricot jam and then place the marzipan on top and around the cake.

  10. A week or so before Christmas, you could add white icing too!

  Wednesday 1st January

  Happy New Year! No, more like Unhappy New Year.

  I don’t know what to write in this silly diary. Nan gave it to me as part of my Christmas present.

  ‘You want to be a writer, don’t you, Milly?’ she said.

  Well, yes, I do want to be a writer, but I don’t want to write about my own boring dreary horrible life. I want to write about a wonderful fantasy Millyland where I’m the princess and I get to do everything I want and I can have all the animals I fancy, especially gerbils, and I live in my own palace and make as much noise as I care to and nobody ever tells me off.

  I don’t live in a palace now. I don’t live in my own house any more. I have to live with my nan and grandad. I don’t even have my own bedroom, I have to share with my mum.

  We live here because Dad left us last summer and we couldn’t stay in our house because we hadn’t paid the rent. Nan says, ‘Never mind, we’ll get along fine, our own special family of four.’ She had to nudge Grandad hard to make him back her up. I don’t think he’s very keen on this arrangement. Actually I don’t think he’s very keen on me.

  He’s a policeman and he’s used to telling people what to do – so at home he bosses Nan around and he bosses Mum and he particularly bosses me. He does shift work so he is sometimes asleep during the day. I don’t always remember this and I dash up the stairs or I slam a door or I turn on the television and then he yells crossly, ‘Tell that kid to pipe down, I’m trying to have a kip!’

  He’s asleep now because he was on duty all last night. Mum’s asleep too. She went to some neighbour’s New Year’s party up the road. I didn’t get to go anywhere. I’m not that friendly with any of the children in my class at this new school just yet. I didn’t want to go out anyway because I hoped my dad would ring me to wish me a Happy New Year.

  He didn’t. He did send me the most amazing Christmas presents though – an iPhone 5, would you believe, and a pair of leather boots with heels (OK, only little ones) and a real silver charm bracelet. Mum got upset because she could only afford to get me a little present this year and Nan got upset because she said I was much too young to have a smartphone and heeled boots and real jewellery. Grandad got upset too, and said Dad should pay Mum proper maintenance and not waste his money.

  I didn’t get the slightest bit upset. I love my Dad. I miss him sooooo much. I miss Gilbert too. He was my very special beautiful little boy gerbil and I loved him desperately. I especially loved letting him scurry down my school blouse and nestle on top of my tummy. It used to drive Nan nuts when she came on a visit. She’s seriously weird. She’s scared of gerbils. So I had to give Gilbert away when we came to live at her house. It was one of the saddest days of my life.

  I’m still sad now. It’s not going to be a Happy New Year.

  Thursday 2nd January

  Dad still hasn’t rung. Mum’s in a surprisingly good mood though. She’s been a bit fed up and weepy for ages, but now she’s all bouncy and she put on all her makeup and her best blue dress even though she was just going to work at her new waitressing job. Nan had to go to work at her dress shop so it was just Grandad and me at home.

  Grandad was asleep all morning because he’s still on nights. The morning was very l-o-n-g. And boring. I tried phoning Dad a few times with my new iPhone but he just had his answerphone message taking the calls. I phoned the message deliberately just to hear Dad’s voice. ‘Hi, you’re through to Dave. Leave me a message and I’ll get back to you.’ So I left Dad some messages. Lots of messages.

  Grandad came downstairs about one o’clock and caught me leaving yet another message.

  ‘That’s not a toy, Milly. You mustn’t phone on a whim. You’ve got to have something to say,’ he said.

  ‘But I’ve got lots and lots to say to my Dad,’ I said mournfully.

  Grandad snorted. He can’t stand my Dad, especially now. But he must have felt sorry for me because he offered to take me out to lunch. Normally we just have baked beans or pizzas at home as neither of us are great cooks.

  ‘We’ll go and check out your mum’s restaurant, shall we?’ he said.

  ‘Oooh, yes!’ I love eating there because Mum and all the other waitresses make a big fuss of me, and I get a specially big portion of chips and extra cream on my fruit pie.

  So we went off together, Grandad and me, and we had a lovely lunch, and I had a banana toffee milkshake which was wonderful. Mum larked about a bit, and called me Miss Milly and treated me like a grown-up but she didn’t act like she was actually listening all the time. She kept running to chat to this man sitting right at the other end by the serving hatch. I couldn’t see him properly because his back was to me, but he must have been ordering a lot of food because he kept Mum talking for ages. She was obviously very hot from all the rushing about because she was bright pink.

  Friday 3rd January

  I know who that man is now. Mum told me last night. He’s called Michael Everill and he lives near my nan’s and he was at that New Year’s party on Tuesday night. And Mum’s going out with him tonight! On a date! I can’t believe it. My mum! She’s not a teenager. What about my dad?

  I said all this, very fiercely indeed.

  ‘You know your dad and I are divorced now, Milly. Michael’s very nice and if – if we start going out together properly then you’ll get to know him and I’m sure you’ll like him,’ said Mum.

  ‘I won’t like him.