When I got home, Aunt Mimi had gone and Momma was asleep ± she never could stay awake when she was excited. I had some quiet moments to think about what had happened. Why had my perfume had such an effect on men who would not normally take any notice of me? Nothing had been put in that was any different. Nothing, that is, except Aunt Mimi's fruitcake. What a fruitcake! Then I had a thought. What if I, as a chemist, could ®nd out what it was in that fruitcake that caused men to go
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mad with love? People would pay a lot to know a thing like that. I could make a lot of money! There was no reason, come to think of it, why I should let Amos Cosmetics know about it. After all, it wasn't their fruitcake. But I couldn't do a thing unless I knew what was in the cake ± and only Aunt Mimi knew that. I decided to miss work the next day ± I would say I had a cold or something. I also wanted to avoid David Amos who might still be affected by the fruitcake special, or the ®ght that had followed.
*** Aunt Mimi lived in a nice little apartment on the other side of town. I had gone out before Momma got up. I didn't want to be questioned about my `new young man'. It took an hour to get there on the bus. When at last I arrived Aunt Mimi gave me a warm welcome. Soon we were sitting in her kitchen, talking about this and that. We both knew what Aunt Mimi was going to ask me about in the end, so neither of us minded talking about other things ®rst. Aunt Mimi was good company when she wasn't talking about husbands. I mentioned the fruitcake. `Anna,' said Aunt Mimi, `I've known you since you were born and you've never baked a cake in your life. Now you want to know how to bake a fruitcake. What's going on?' `Nothing, Aunt Mimi, I just thought the cake was delicious and wondered if I could bake one too. There's no harm in that, is there?' Of course, I was lying. We both knew it.
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`So,' Aunt Mimi said. `This new man of yours ± he wants you to bake him a cake. Who does he think you are, his mother? Just what were you two doing last night, having a cookery class?' `Oh, please, Aunt Mimi,' I begged. `I really need to know. I promise that as soon as you tell me I'll tell you everything about last night.' Aunt Mimi was interested. `Everything?' `Everything,' I said. `No secrets.' Aunt Mimi smiled. `Well, my dear, I hate to tell you this but I didn't make the cake. I bought it.' `You bought it?' I said, unable to hide the surprise in my voice. `Where did you buy it?' `From a little place in the market, the open-air one that takes place twice a week in the park. There's an old lady there who said she used to bake them for her husbands. She had seven of them, would you believe? And they all ate her fruitcakes.' Somehow I wasn't surprised that she had had seven husbands. Not with those fruitcakes. `Did she say what she put in them?' I asked, hopefully. `Only that she put in a ``special something''that she grew herself,' said Aunt Mimi. `She wouldn't say what. She told me that she only baked that kind of cake a few times. As a matter of fact, she knew that I was thinking about ®nding a husband for you. I don't know how she knew but she did. Anyway, this woman who made the cake told me to give it to you and your problems would be over. I didn't believe what she said, but I used to buy the fruitcakes because they were delicious.' I noticed that Aunt Mimi was talking about this old lady
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as if she wasn't around any more. I feared the worst. Was she dead? `Can we see this old lady to ask her about it?' I asked. Aunt Mimi looked at me sadly. `I'm afraid she died last week ± I went to her funeral. They say she was over a hundred years old. There were a lot of strangers there, not from around here, all speaking in some kind of strange way. They seemed to think she was important, though nobody ever took much notice of her around here.' `Except you, Aunt Mimi,' I said. Aunt Mimi smiled. `Well, you know how I can't mind my own business.' I knew. `Speaking of which,' she said, moving closer to me, `it's your turn.' `My turn?' I asked. `To tell me everything that happened last night,'she said. And so I did. Everything, just as I had promised. I don't know whether Aunt Mimi believed me or not, but if she didn't she never let it show. She's not a bad old lady, my Aunt Mimi. Not when you get to know her.
*** In the end I had two days off work. I said I'd been sick and in a way I was: I wouldn't feel well until I knew the truth about the fruitcake. I knew that there was little chance of discovering what actually went into it. I would have to work it out from the small amount I had left in the bottle. I had used up more than I thought the other night. But I was not sure that I wanted to make my fortune
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from the old woman's secret. Perhaps it was only right that the secret should lie buried with her. Then again, perhaps not. Momma seemed satis®ed with my explanation that things had just not worked out between me and Mr Amos, although she thought it a wasted opportunity ± she wanted me to have a rich husband. Still, happiness is what really counts, she said, with a note of sadness in her voice. When I ®nally got back to the factory there was a message left on my desk ± could I see Mr Amos as soon as I got in. As I walked towards David Amos's of®ce I felt like a schoolgirl who had to go to see the head teacher. I was sure that the fruitcake special would not still be working by now ± after all, he had not seen me for a few days. I knocked on his door. Mr Amos was sitting behind his big desk with a large black eye. Standing next to him, smiling and wearing dark glasses and a hat, was Sabina. She had her arm around his shoulders. `I hope you are well now, Anna.'said Mr Amos. `Yes, thank you, Mr Amos,' I said. (I thought calling him `David' might not be the best thing to do at this point. I could see Sabina wasn't pleased to see me.) `I hope you are well yourself,' I added quickly. `My eye hurts a bit ± your waiter could hit hard!' he said with a little smile. So could Sabina, I thought, as I remembered how she had hit him. But I said nothing. `Anyway,' Mr Amos said, `I managed to calm them down so that there was no more trouble and the police
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were not called. Your waiter had been partly to blame, too, so they accepted my apologies ± at a price, of course. At least the name of Amos Cosmetics didn't appear in the newspapers. `And, as for that other matter of my strange behaviour towards you ± I can't explain what affected me. I mean, a man like myself and a woman like . . . I mean . . .' he looked towards Sabina. Sabina ®nished it off for him. `He means that a rich and handsome man like him could not possibly fall in love with a nobody like you when he has a beautiful girl like me. Isn't that right, David?' `You express it so well, darling,' he said. Sabina continued: `So David wants you to accept a bit of money to make up for any disappointments you may have had, then you can go back to making perfumes at the factory again. Right, David?' `Absolutely, darling,' said Mr Amos before turning to me again. `Well, Anna, I hope that has helped to . . . er . . . clear things up a little. I'm sorry there had to be this, er, confusion. I hope this has sorted things out between us.' I stood watching Sabina smile as she put her ®ngers down his collar. `Well, Mr David Amos,' I said, `perhaps you can use your famous expert nose to sort this out, too!' I had reached into my handbag for something to throw when I saw Sabina laughing. I took the top off the ®rst thing I found and threw everything that was in the bottle all over the front of Sabina's dress. `Take that and him too, you horrible little woman!' I shouted.
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When I looked at my hand it was holding the now empty bottle of fruitcake special. The room was already beginning to ®ll with its smell. I got out before Mr Amos lost control of himself again, out of the of®ce and out of my career at Amos Cosmetics. Sabina, of course, would now enjoy all the extra attention she would get from strange men, thanks to the fruitcake special. I'm not sure that Mr David Amos would enjoy the competition, though.
*** It happened sometime later, shortly after I had begun to work at the factory where they made Intrigue. I was trying to make a fruitcake (I mean you never know!) when Momma and I heard a knock at the door. `Momma,' I said, `if it's Aunt Mimi with news of another ``perfect boy'' for me, tell her I'm not interested.' `It's not Aunt Mimi, dear,'said Momma. `Who is it?' I asked. `I think you'd better come see for yourself,' Momma said. I went to the front door. It was Armstrong, the pizza delivery man. He was holding up a pizza box which had `Armstrong's Peachy Pizzas' in big letters on the front. Armstrong now owned the pizza company. He explained that he'd fallen in love with me when he ®rst delivered pizza to us, but he wanted to be a success before asking me out. He said I deserved no less. Then he gave me some ¯owers. I never really noticed before, but Armstrong is quite good looking: a bit short maybe, a little thin on top ± but nobody's perfect.
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`Momma, get the man a drink,' I said, enjoying his smile. And the smell of fruitcake went past us and out the door