Sunday 17 August 2014

38) Jane and Jam

I have never been married in my life. Nor do I ever wish to be. I find love only in the miraculous jams I make. Or used to make. My brand was locally renowned, about to break national and who knows how far it could have gone. Jane’s Jam, smeared over every piece of toasts in the country. It wasn’t to be. You see I lost sight of the bigger picture.

The reason my jams were so magnificent is because of a secret ingredient. A rare sweet spice plant my grandfather found in the jungles of Brazil many years ago. He brought a couple back and nurtured them in his garden. He used to use the spice on pancakes, but it my mother and I who figured out they were perfect for jam. My mother started the business but passed away before it really took off. I quit school and took over the shop full time. It was a sacrifice I was happy to make and it wasn’t long before I was making a real nice profit.

Money and happy customers are all well and good, but I missed out on teenage experiences like first loves and underage drinking because of the shop. So when Mr Young entered my shop one day and took such a liking to me, it was only naturally that I was swept up by his charm. He had a soft face and rounded ears like that of a chubby boy, yet was tall and thin. I remembered his face and the way he spoke softly, though I probably would have forgotten it after a few days if he hadn’t turned up the following morning. He whipped out a business, far more sharp in his tone. This jam has to be bigger. Let’s take it to the world.

The whirlwind sucked me up and away I was going. We went out for dinner to discuss terms and a business strategy. We ended up flirting outrageously. Well, he flirted with me and I giggled as he used every superlative to describe me. That night I turned up to work late, if you catch me.

This happened on a nearly nightly basis for two weeks as he slowly drained information about the company out of me. He knew there was a secret, but for all his wine and kind words, I would not drop the name. He gave it up and a week later presented me with a contract. I wonder if he knew it would have been so easy to get the secret whether he would have tried this ploy earlier. I signed it blindly and with that I signed away the secret. Section 1:1 which states Mr Young is a joint owner of the Jane’s Jams and Section 4:5 which states all owners must know everything about the product (or words to that effect). Combine the two and Mr Young had what he needed.


The dinners stopped, as did the visits. A month later, Brazilian Jam hit the shelves of every supermarket nationwide. I tried to sue but did not have the finances or resources to scare Mr Young. I spend most nights at the shop, trying to create new flavours and find a different way to use the spice. I feel it is a useless endeavour. The only solace I can take is that the locals say mine tastes better.

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