Chapter 1
Dear diary, 7 February 2014
''Do find out the secret, my son!’’... I opened my eyes. It happened again! Mom says ''Forget the past and take a step forward in life.'' But how can I forget that day or the loss I bore?
The winds were blowing hard, and a storm was going to break but the storm had already broken. My mom couldn't stop crying and Clare and I snuggled into her saying ''It's okay, Dad's gone but we will always stand together.''
Remembering that day still gives me the shivers. Life is really unfair sometimes. My dad and I shared great memories - one of them was a recipe which we were trying to crack - garlic and bean bread.
It was an antique recipe; we wanted to bring it back to life. But there was only one person we knew who could make it, grandpa, and he knew the SECRET INGREDIENT! But grandpa is dead and his secret died with him.
I love to bake! It’s my passion but mom's afraid she thinks something will happen to me two reasons:
1. I daydream
2. Sometimes I day dream too much...and burn what I'm trying to cook
Clare tries to cover up for me – she is truly a brilliant sister! We are always there for each other. She loves to read and currently she's reading 'The Great Fire of London 1666'. Blech – history! You know how I would never bother – history is too out-dated, but according to her, there is something in that book about garlic and bean bread! Clare was blathering on about how the fire started from a bakery and the baker was the only man who had cracked the recipe... so now I plan to have a go at that book! Not a pleasant prospect but at least it will distract me from my dark thoughts.
Thomas
The moment I finished writing mom barged into my room dressed in black. She was wearing a grey net covering her face but there was something weird about it - it was just not right.
''Don’t try to bake dear, please. At least not today. It’s your dad's death anniversary. I'm going to the church. Be back soon.''
''Mom!?''
''Yes?''
''Your hat’s on the wrong way!''
She frantically grabbed it and twisted it around. ''Hahahahahaha.''
''Hahahahahaha.”
I know behind that laughter are her tears that make her cry from the inside. I just can't do anything. She makes me helpless.
Mom told me not to bake. But I can’t help it! When I’m distracted, I bake! Later, after mom left, I was cooking up a storm in the kitchen. I ran out of flour and I knew mom kept a new pack on the top shelf of that old unpolished brown cupboard which was 5ft tall. I grabbed a wooden chair from mom's Victorian style dinner table and it was not that sturdy so... I kind of lost balance and bam...! The flour was on my face and various jars went cracking down to the floor.
But jackpot! The jar of mom's fudge chocolate chip cookies...umm...umm but ouch! The white bag of sugar dislodged just as I was about to take one scrumptious, tantalizing bite! It went over my head and something hit on my head that was really heavy. I lay straight down on the bed of flour and sugar. I heard Clare’s concerned voice but suddenly...
The sounds and voices were all different ''Thomas, Thomas!'' And the sound of children playing 'Ringa Ringa roses'. Also the sweet smell of fresh biscuits straight out of the oven and wait! That was the smell of garlic and bean bread!
Chapter 2
The breeze blew hard...so did the shivers in me. I was scared but still there was something that made me open my eyes. A little finger was prodding my eyelid and slowly tried to prise it open.
''Are you alright Father?''
''Huh?''
''You closed your eyes while playing!''
''What? Father! I'm not your father!?''
''Hey, that's a new one! Mother! Father made a new joke.''
''Really? Let me hear it! What is it dear? Knock knock? Or granddad’s classics?''
''Father says he's not father...hehehe''
What was this supposed to be? A joke? I couldn't understand a thing. I thought I was dreaming but it was a weird dream. I just could not stop it! Thinking it as a dream, I let it go whatever way it wanted to, but who knew what was about to come up?
I started to act the way the people expected me to. There was this beautiful lady. I did not know who she was but she called me 'Honey'. Well, that’s weird but maybe she thought I was her son. But it was strange that everyone called me Mr. Baker and at around 5: 30 in the morning, people made noises as it was 5:30 in the afternoon
The lady woke me up but more and more, I had this horrifying realisation that maybe this was not a dream. It didn’t feel like a dream! I was in a dusty stone bakery with stone ovens and huge wood spoons. There was flour all over the place and then I started shouting!
‘‘Where am I? Who are you and why are you calling me Mr. Baker? What's going on? Mom! Mom!? Clare? Where are you?''
Those two little children got up and started crying.
''Mother, why is Father screaming?''
''I am not your dad or your husband, lady! Do you hear me? I'm a 14 year old boy!''
I got up and caught my reflection on a huge polished pie tin, and I was a 30 year old man! I couldn't believe my eyes - it was like I was in the future! The window had something else to say... a man stood there and he said ''If you’re done, can I have 3 loaves of garlic and bean bread? And a dozen jam biscuits?''
''Yes Sir, just umm... garlic and bean bread isn't ready yet.''
''Send it when ready to the big house on Walker Street.''
As he left, I turned to my alleged ‘wife’ and asked, ''Wait! Did he say 'garlic and bean bread?''
''Well you heard him! And I want to understand, why were you screaming?''
''Garlic and bean bread? How can I make it? Please tell me!''
''Are you mad? Wait, you know what? Tell me what is going on?''
Chapter 3
I told her that I knew she would not believe me but this was the truth that:
I was a 14-year-old boy who lived in London and I lived in 2014, but now I do not know where I am. And the 'Garlic bean bread’ is a unknown recipe of our time, nobody knows that it exists, no one has a recipe, but I want to bring it back and the biggest problem is I don't who you are or where I am or how and why I am suddenly Mr. Baker.
I asked for her help but she had no reaction, she got up and left, right out of the bakery door. I knew she did not believe me, but I had no other choice.
At around 3 o' clock the bell on the corner of the shop door rang. It was her again; she had a calm look on her face as if she understood. She came near me and sat down holding my hand.
“This is 1666, you are Mr. Thomas Farriner, a baker, the king’s baker and you live on Pudding Lane near London Bridge. I am your wife and you have a daughter and son, and this is Jane, our maid. Yes, don’t even by accident let your tongue slip. If people find out you’ve gone mad, you will be taken away and thrown into prison…Now the bakery has already opened so as people ask, give them their orders and yes, please don’t speak much as you are using strange words, and I am already terrified of you, and what will become of my little children! Oooohooohoooo…’’
She ended in a plaintive wail and started sobbing into her apron.
I gave up!
Awkwardly putting my hands around her shoulders, I asked said “There, there..don’t cry… umm.. honey, can you do me one last favour?”
“Yes…” she looked up hopefully and sniffled.
“Can I have the recipe for Garlic Bean Bread?”
Chapter 4
It was written on an old paper with fading ink. The handwriting wasn’t easy to understand but I managed somehow.
It was like this:
1 cup flour
A pinch of Salt
1 Whole Garlic
2 cups of beans
And so on. But the secret ingredient! What a moment of epiphany! I never thought this would be it. But it was worth a shot and I tried it.
IT WORKED! I MADE IT! I DID IT BUT… the ingredient was hard to find in because that ingredient didn’t come from London. It actually came from the Middle East. It was a common ingredient, but one which isn’t found in breads. But after all, this was bread that came from heaven!
I started with a batch of six and first gave out samples. People did ask why all of a sudden I was giving out samples but I had to be sure.
Slowly Mr. Baker was getting the hang of it, all was going well. In fact, the lady told me business was running better than ever
Chapter 5
I started to miss home now and my job was done. The problem was how to get back. So I thought maybe if the same thing happened, I would get back…I started to arrange a few things. I took a chair and then put it under the cupboard, on the cupboard shelf I put bag of flour and sugar and I tried to tumble over.
First time, I couldn’t do it; something was stopping me… oh! My shirt got caught in a nail. The second time, I missed by an inch. Third time I did it, it went the way it was supposed to - the bag of sugar was on my head. When I took it off my head, what I saw was unbelievable! That lady and Jane were staring at me with big eyes and mouths hung open.
“Is this how you cook in your time? I’m sure not!” murmured the lady. All I know was I was sitting in between a big mess!
It was my fifth night and at 2:00 am in the morning, I smelt something, a burning smell. I felt heat in a couple of minutes.
I got up rubbed my eyes and opened them… I could not believe my eyes! A big fire had started! I woke everyone and tried to stop the fire. The lady and maid Jane called neighbours for help! But it was too late!
“It’s my fault. I didn’t put the ovens out!” shouted Jane.
Then the roof started to catch fire and the wood started falling covered in fire!
We had no option left! We were trapped in the room so we jumped from our house window to our neighbour’s and escaped from there, but Jane was too afraid to run and died in the fire!
We ran a lot and in a day, the fire had spread all over the area. Next, the London Bridge started to burn and fall. People gathered in St. Paul’s Cathedral but no one knew if we were safe so no one tried to settle. If the fire would reach here, people started to plan were they would go.
The rich people came to the cathedral and from there, left the town in boats. Some families paid whatever they had or promised to serve the rich for life if they took them with them.
Some people hid in the boats or took boats from the sailors and left town together.
We didn’t know what to do! The fire was now spreading faster. Shops, bakeries, churches, in fact over 70 churches were burnt including St. Paul’s and businesses had a lot of loss… the fire went on for 4 days yet only 5 people died in it.
Chapter 6
The fire was out now, people had now gained consciousness but still you could hear cries of people because everything they had was now a fist full of ash! It was worse because already London was too dry because of drought, which had been there since 10 months. Everything was dry, that is one of the reasons why the fire spread so easily. Also people say a baker actually did predict a fire which was going to destroy London but now nothing could be done!
We went back to Pudding Lane and it was terrible! I felt pity because I would go back home and these people would have to suffer till the end.
On 8th September, the mayor called a meeting where he described the losses and furthermore he gave options and instructions for what should be done next.
Just about then, a soldier from the king came with a letter and read it out loud:
Subjects!
With a heart full of grief I tell you, that I am sad and concerned for you as you all are my people and my duties don’t stop here. So that is why I order that Mr. Thomas Farriner should be arrested for being responsible for the fire. He is the murderer of those 5 lives we all grieve for. Mr. Farriner should be brought to the castle this instant.
By order of Charles II
King of England
In a minute, the guards grabbed me and took me with them, while the whole town watched! On the way, I could see destruction everywhere. The London Bridge had fallen in pieces and people lay injured. The children’s rhyme ‘London Bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down’ resonated in my silly mind! My fair lady was wailing behind me, her children holding her skirts.
By the time I reached the castle, I could hear cries going ‘Down with Thomas Farriner, down with Thomas Farriner!”
I was brought to the king’s court; they say it right, the olden times were the worst because there was no justice for the poor. I was not even given a chance to speak. Only there was a lawyer who explained how the fire took place and that my maid did not put the oven out. As she was dead, I would be the one getting punished.
The appeal was accepted and it was said that because it was my bakery and my maid who were responsible for the destruction of London, I should be hanged to death!
“Death? But I don’t even belong here, you can’t kill me!”
It was not worth it! I was already handed over to the guards to be taken to prison. The date was given to me as 10 September; I was going to be hanged on the 10th of September!
I only had 2 days to go back or else I would be hanging from the gallows.
So I sat there in prison, miserable, and just then I heard a voice from my dad.
“Don’t worry son, I am proud that you found the recipe!”
I could see him in the form of a spirit, he put his hand on my head as I smiled and I closed my eyes. When I opened them I was still there and a mouse was eating from my food. A tear rolled down my eyes… and just then the pot of water fell right on head!
“Ouch!” I cried.
And you wouldn’t believe what I heard next! Mom was screaming “It’s been an hour since I told you to clean this mess! Still you are sitting there, dreaming?”
I removed the bag from my head and smiled.
“I need to take him to the doctor.” Mom murmured and left.
Chapter 7
Dear Diary,
That’s the dumbest thing I had ever heard! Mom did say Thomas was crazy but today as a sister, I have experienced it! I guess that book of mine made him dream but when he made that bread and made me eat it, I was a bit stunned. And to be fair to him, he never did read that book, so there is no way he could have gotten all those historical facts straight.
Actually, if it is true, he should be thankful because only that dream or reality or imagination or whatever it was, showed him the right path to success
I still sometimes wonder if he is actually a human. However, after eating that bread of his and looking at him thanking dad’s portrait…
I feel I should believe him! Should I? Or should I not?
Clare
PS. After so much pleading and cajoling, he still refuses to share the secret ingredient with me! He is truly the most annoying person I have ever met!
Dear diary, 7 February 2014
''Do find out the secret, my son!’’... I opened my eyes. It happened again! Mom says ''Forget the past and take a step forward in life.'' But how can I forget that day or the loss I bore?
The winds were blowing hard, and a storm was going to break but the storm had already broken. My mom couldn't stop crying and Clare and I snuggled into her saying ''It's okay, Dad's gone but we will always stand together.''
Remembering that day still gives me the shivers. Life is really unfair sometimes. My dad and I shared great memories - one of them was a recipe which we were trying to crack - garlic and bean bread.
It was an antique recipe; we wanted to bring it back to life. But there was only one person we knew who could make it, grandpa, and he knew the SECRET INGREDIENT! But grandpa is dead and his secret died with him.
I love to bake! It’s my passion but mom's afraid she thinks something will happen to me two reasons:
1. I daydream
2. Sometimes I day dream too much...and burn what I'm trying to cook
Clare tries to cover up for me – she is truly a brilliant sister! We are always there for each other. She loves to read and currently she's reading 'The Great Fire of London 1666'. Blech – history! You know how I would never bother – history is too out-dated, but according to her, there is something in that book about garlic and bean bread! Clare was blathering on about how the fire started from a bakery and the baker was the only man who had cracked the recipe... so now I plan to have a go at that book! Not a pleasant prospect but at least it will distract me from my dark thoughts.
Thomas
The moment I finished writing mom barged into my room dressed in black. She was wearing a grey net covering her face but there was something weird about it - it was just not right.
''Don’t try to bake dear, please. At least not today. It’s your dad's death anniversary. I'm going to the church. Be back soon.''
''Mom!?''
''Yes?''
''Your hat’s on the wrong way!''
She frantically grabbed it and twisted it around. ''Hahahahahaha.''
''Hahahahahaha.”
I know behind that laughter are her tears that make her cry from the inside. I just can't do anything. She makes me helpless.
Mom told me not to bake. But I can’t help it! When I’m distracted, I bake! Later, after mom left, I was cooking up a storm in the kitchen. I ran out of flour and I knew mom kept a new pack on the top shelf of that old unpolished brown cupboard which was 5ft tall. I grabbed a wooden chair from mom's Victorian style dinner table and it was not that sturdy so... I kind of lost balance and bam...! The flour was on my face and various jars went cracking down to the floor.
But jackpot! The jar of mom's fudge chocolate chip cookies...umm...umm but ouch! The white bag of sugar dislodged just as I was about to take one scrumptious, tantalizing bite! It went over my head and something hit on my head that was really heavy. I lay straight down on the bed of flour and sugar. I heard Clare’s concerned voice but suddenly...
The sounds and voices were all different ''Thomas, Thomas!'' And the sound of children playing 'Ringa Ringa roses'. Also the sweet smell of fresh biscuits straight out of the oven and wait! That was the smell of garlic and bean bread!
Chapter 2
The breeze blew hard...so did the shivers in me. I was scared but still there was something that made me open my eyes. A little finger was prodding my eyelid and slowly tried to prise it open.
''Are you alright Father?''
''Huh?''
''You closed your eyes while playing!''
''What? Father! I'm not your father!?''
''Hey, that's a new one! Mother! Father made a new joke.''
''Really? Let me hear it! What is it dear? Knock knock? Or granddad’s classics?''
''Father says he's not father...hehehe''
What was this supposed to be? A joke? I couldn't understand a thing. I thought I was dreaming but it was a weird dream. I just could not stop it! Thinking it as a dream, I let it go whatever way it wanted to, but who knew what was about to come up?
I started to act the way the people expected me to. There was this beautiful lady. I did not know who she was but she called me 'Honey'. Well, that’s weird but maybe she thought I was her son. But it was strange that everyone called me Mr. Baker and at around 5: 30 in the morning, people made noises as it was 5:30 in the afternoon
The lady woke me up but more and more, I had this horrifying realisation that maybe this was not a dream. It didn’t feel like a dream! I was in a dusty stone bakery with stone ovens and huge wood spoons. There was flour all over the place and then I started shouting!
‘‘Where am I? Who are you and why are you calling me Mr. Baker? What's going on? Mom! Mom!? Clare? Where are you?''
Those two little children got up and started crying.
''Mother, why is Father screaming?''
''I am not your dad or your husband, lady! Do you hear me? I'm a 14 year old boy!''
I got up and caught my reflection on a huge polished pie tin, and I was a 30 year old man! I couldn't believe my eyes - it was like I was in the future! The window had something else to say... a man stood there and he said ''If you’re done, can I have 3 loaves of garlic and bean bread? And a dozen jam biscuits?''
''Yes Sir, just umm... garlic and bean bread isn't ready yet.''
''Send it when ready to the big house on Walker Street.''
As he left, I turned to my alleged ‘wife’ and asked, ''Wait! Did he say 'garlic and bean bread?''
''Well you heard him! And I want to understand, why were you screaming?''
''Garlic and bean bread? How can I make it? Please tell me!''
''Are you mad? Wait, you know what? Tell me what is going on?''
Chapter 3
I told her that I knew she would not believe me but this was the truth that:
I was a 14-year-old boy who lived in London and I lived in 2014, but now I do not know where I am. And the 'Garlic bean bread’ is a unknown recipe of our time, nobody knows that it exists, no one has a recipe, but I want to bring it back and the biggest problem is I don't who you are or where I am or how and why I am suddenly Mr. Baker.
I asked for her help but she had no reaction, she got up and left, right out of the bakery door. I knew she did not believe me, but I had no other choice.
At around 3 o' clock the bell on the corner of the shop door rang. It was her again; she had a calm look on her face as if she understood. She came near me and sat down holding my hand.
“This is 1666, you are Mr. Thomas Farriner, a baker, the king’s baker and you live on Pudding Lane near London Bridge. I am your wife and you have a daughter and son, and this is Jane, our maid. Yes, don’t even by accident let your tongue slip. If people find out you’ve gone mad, you will be taken away and thrown into prison…Now the bakery has already opened so as people ask, give them their orders and yes, please don’t speak much as you are using strange words, and I am already terrified of you, and what will become of my little children! Oooohooohoooo…’’
She ended in a plaintive wail and started sobbing into her apron.
I gave up!
Awkwardly putting my hands around her shoulders, I asked said “There, there..don’t cry… umm.. honey, can you do me one last favour?”
“Yes…” she looked up hopefully and sniffled.
“Can I have the recipe for Garlic Bean Bread?”
Chapter 4
It was written on an old paper with fading ink. The handwriting wasn’t easy to understand but I managed somehow.
It was like this:
1 cup flour
A pinch of Salt
1 Whole Garlic
2 cups of beans
And so on. But the secret ingredient! What a moment of epiphany! I never thought this would be it. But it was worth a shot and I tried it.
IT WORKED! I MADE IT! I DID IT BUT… the ingredient was hard to find in because that ingredient didn’t come from London. It actually came from the Middle East. It was a common ingredient, but one which isn’t found in breads. But after all, this was bread that came from heaven!
I started with a batch of six and first gave out samples. People did ask why all of a sudden I was giving out samples but I had to be sure.
Slowly Mr. Baker was getting the hang of it, all was going well. In fact, the lady told me business was running better than ever
Chapter 5
I started to miss home now and my job was done. The problem was how to get back. So I thought maybe if the same thing happened, I would get back…I started to arrange a few things. I took a chair and then put it under the cupboard, on the cupboard shelf I put bag of flour and sugar and I tried to tumble over.
First time, I couldn’t do it; something was stopping me… oh! My shirt got caught in a nail. The second time, I missed by an inch. Third time I did it, it went the way it was supposed to - the bag of sugar was on my head. When I took it off my head, what I saw was unbelievable! That lady and Jane were staring at me with big eyes and mouths hung open.
“Is this how you cook in your time? I’m sure not!” murmured the lady. All I know was I was sitting in between a big mess!
It was my fifth night and at 2:00 am in the morning, I smelt something, a burning smell. I felt heat in a couple of minutes.
I got up rubbed my eyes and opened them… I could not believe my eyes! A big fire had started! I woke everyone and tried to stop the fire. The lady and maid Jane called neighbours for help! But it was too late!
“It’s my fault. I didn’t put the ovens out!” shouted Jane.
Then the roof started to catch fire and the wood started falling covered in fire!
We had no option left! We were trapped in the room so we jumped from our house window to our neighbour’s and escaped from there, but Jane was too afraid to run and died in the fire!
We ran a lot and in a day, the fire had spread all over the area. Next, the London Bridge started to burn and fall. People gathered in St. Paul’s Cathedral but no one knew if we were safe so no one tried to settle. If the fire would reach here, people started to plan were they would go.
The rich people came to the cathedral and from there, left the town in boats. Some families paid whatever they had or promised to serve the rich for life if they took them with them.
Some people hid in the boats or took boats from the sailors and left town together.
We didn’t know what to do! The fire was now spreading faster. Shops, bakeries, churches, in fact over 70 churches were burnt including St. Paul’s and businesses had a lot of loss… the fire went on for 4 days yet only 5 people died in it.
Chapter 6
The fire was out now, people had now gained consciousness but still you could hear cries of people because everything they had was now a fist full of ash! It was worse because already London was too dry because of drought, which had been there since 10 months. Everything was dry, that is one of the reasons why the fire spread so easily. Also people say a baker actually did predict a fire which was going to destroy London but now nothing could be done!
We went back to Pudding Lane and it was terrible! I felt pity because I would go back home and these people would have to suffer till the end.
On 8th September, the mayor called a meeting where he described the losses and furthermore he gave options and instructions for what should be done next.
Just about then, a soldier from the king came with a letter and read it out loud:
Subjects!
With a heart full of grief I tell you, that I am sad and concerned for you as you all are my people and my duties don’t stop here. So that is why I order that Mr. Thomas Farriner should be arrested for being responsible for the fire. He is the murderer of those 5 lives we all grieve for. Mr. Farriner should be brought to the castle this instant.
By order of Charles II
King of England
In a minute, the guards grabbed me and took me with them, while the whole town watched! On the way, I could see destruction everywhere. The London Bridge had fallen in pieces and people lay injured. The children’s rhyme ‘London Bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down’ resonated in my silly mind! My fair lady was wailing behind me, her children holding her skirts.
By the time I reached the castle, I could hear cries going ‘Down with Thomas Farriner, down with Thomas Farriner!”
I was brought to the king’s court; they say it right, the olden times were the worst because there was no justice for the poor. I was not even given a chance to speak. Only there was a lawyer who explained how the fire took place and that my maid did not put the oven out. As she was dead, I would be the one getting punished.
The appeal was accepted and it was said that because it was my bakery and my maid who were responsible for the destruction of London, I should be hanged to death!
“Death? But I don’t even belong here, you can’t kill me!”
It was not worth it! I was already handed over to the guards to be taken to prison. The date was given to me as 10 September; I was going to be hanged on the 10th of September!
I only had 2 days to go back or else I would be hanging from the gallows.
So I sat there in prison, miserable, and just then I heard a voice from my dad.
“Don’t worry son, I am proud that you found the recipe!”
I could see him in the form of a spirit, he put his hand on my head as I smiled and I closed my eyes. When I opened them I was still there and a mouse was eating from my food. A tear rolled down my eyes… and just then the pot of water fell right on head!
“Ouch!” I cried.
And you wouldn’t believe what I heard next! Mom was screaming “It’s been an hour since I told you to clean this mess! Still you are sitting there, dreaming?”
I removed the bag from my head and smiled.
“I need to take him to the doctor.” Mom murmured and left.
Chapter 7
Dear Diary,
That’s the dumbest thing I had ever heard! Mom did say Thomas was crazy but today as a sister, I have experienced it! I guess that book of mine made him dream but when he made that bread and made me eat it, I was a bit stunned. And to be fair to him, he never did read that book, so there is no way he could have gotten all those historical facts straight.
Actually, if it is true, he should be thankful because only that dream or reality or imagination or whatever it was, showed him the right path to success
I still sometimes wonder if he is actually a human. However, after eating that bread of his and looking at him thanking dad’s portrait…
I feel I should believe him! Should I? Or should I not?
Clare
PS. After so much pleading and cajoling, he still refuses to share the secret ingredient with me! He is truly the most annoying person I have ever met!