Everyone in the local village pretty much from the first day at working in the bakery nicknamed me Sarah even though my real name was the much grander... Sophia. I had lived in a very rich family back in Italy. Dad was a prince but chose to retire because he was close to death. I was meant to be in the first in line to the throne but I was beaten by none other than my younger step sister Violet Ann. She always had what was mine! I could not stand her anymore and decided to go over to England and learn a trade to make a living for myself. The first day I moved over to England I chose to leave those pretty dresses be hide me!I wore t-shirts and old jeans to blend in. The English people are totally oblivious and that’s how I like it.
Every morning I opened the bakery the fresh smell was of bread and cream was heavenly! I worked hard from morning to night, selling cakes was a tough job it was sad to part away something you just made but I knew it would have a good home! I couldn’t believe my luck though when one of my wedding cakes was chosen in the Daily Mail’s Cake Competition. I was so excited! well I was... that was when I saw the name of the buyer Violet Ann. I couldn’t believe that woman had found me all the way in England. She demanded the cake had to be made by next morning because she was to be married to Larry in the afternoon. I had no choice but to agree to her proposal especially since it was my only and best chance to get even!
Next morning I just finished constructing and decorating my beautiful tower, the cake was spun in sugar, and cream with strawberries on top. It was my very own bit of heaven. The strawberries were a fresh blood red. I kept dipping my finger to taste the cream, it was so addictive! At the same time I could feel a horrible feeling in my gut because I knew the cake wouldn’t really be mine. Violet and Larry were waiting outside the kitchen to purchase my cake; I could see Violet’s beautiful mango dress with feather bow tassels. She always look so elegant; a quaint doll shape of a woman but this was all just an act to seek attention. I knew her pretty life all too well. I knew her secret; she couldn’t hide anything from me.
Once we held an auction because dad and mum wanted to sell and auction their valuable items which was one of those family traditions! Me and Violet were meant to guard the items to make sure no one robbed us. However one of mum’s Egyptian rings was taken that day! My parents blamed me because to them... I was the irresponsible one! ... I was the oldest one! I found out Violet’s dirty secret though. She wore that necklace whilst she slept and she was indeed the thief that day. Now she has come back to finish the final job and take away my valuable creation, well ... that is what she thinks anyway. Her husband Larry was pretty much a simple old man, he was plain, grey haired and in a monochrome suit. I do not wish to hurt Larry because he is a very sweet and honest gentleman. I really feel that he is the idiot for falling for that bitch over there, when he would be a much happier man with me.
I knew Violet was pacing up and down outside the kitchen; she looked as though she was having a fit. This was excellent news! Then she stubbornly knocked on the kitchen door and said:
“Where is my cake, hurry up... darling!”
Her words hit hard. I could feel their bitter taste in my mouth.
“It will be finished soon, be patient... honey!”
I could feel myself slowly losing control for the first time; I pounded the flour with my fist, battered the dough with the rolling pin in quick rhythmic pulses. Each aggressive swoop was calming. There was no way on earth she would get my cake too, even if that was to do the unimaginable... sabotage my own creation. I took away the fresh red strawberries and planted black ones around the cake. Found some curry sauce from the cupboard and spread it around the cake as icing and finally sprayed fermented milk as the cream. Violet took the cake and didn’t even bat a eyelid as I closed the door behind her. I couldn’t stop laughing because I knew her day will be ruined, it will be over for her in a matter of seconds... when that bit of cake touches everyone’s lips.