8. Spoon in the apple puree, then top with the final pieces of bread, also dipped in butter. Bake for 15 minutes, then turn down the heat to 180°C (160°C fan)/gas mark 4 and bake for about another 40 minutes, or until the bread on top is golden.

9. Leave to cool in the mould for 10 minutes, then turn out, scatter with sugar and serve with cream, custard or ice-cream.

If you enjoyed A Simple Wish, you’ll love the next book in the Precious Stones series …

A Daughter’s Destiny

Warwickshire, 1875

Emerald Pritchard has lived a privileged life with her parents and her younger sister Abigail in the stately Astley House on the outskirts of Nuneaton. But all that suddenly changes when her father disappears leaving the family in debt. They are forced to throw themselves on the mercy of Emerald’s uncle who begrudgingly allows them to live in a small cottage within the grounds of his farm.

Desperate to find work, Emerald is forced to leave her family and travel to London to become the companion of a distant aunt she’s never met.

Rebellious Abigail is unwilling to lower herself to doing the menial farm chores and instead runs away, finding work as a hostess in a club in Soho where she soon finds herself in desperate trouble.

Emerald is alone in the unfamiliar capital that brings its own dangers. Will she ever be able to find happiness and reunite her family again?

Read on to discover more …

Chapter One

March 1875

‘Is the meal not to your liking, Gerald?’

Glancing up from his untouched plate, Gerald Winter nodded. ‘It’s quite delicious, Dorcas, but I find I don’t have much of an appetite this evening, my dear.’

‘Again!’ His wife sniffed her disapproval as she dabbed at her lips with a snow-white napkin while her two daughters glanced anxiously at each other. It looked like they were set for another uncomfortable evening, but they were getting used to it now. Since the month before when their father had lowered the housekeeping money, their parents seemed to be constantly squabbling and their father had become unusually quiet, often locking himself away in his office for hours.

At that moment Hetty, their maid, appeared to clear the main course pots from the table, returning a short time later with the dessert, which she lay in the centre of the crisp white cloth. It was a large apple pie with a golden crust and beside it she placed a jug of fresh whipped cream.

At sixteen, Abigail was the younger of the two girls, and she licked her lips in anticipation.

Her mother eyed it with distaste. ‘I can’t believe we have to resort to such common meals,’ Dorcas said huffily. ‘Was it really necessary to cut the housekeeping down, Gerald?’

‘I wouldn’t have done it if it wasn’t.’