The Birthday Cake

On Saturday morning, Maya and Leo's mother left for work at eight. "I'll be back at five," she said at the door. "Don't do anything crazy." The twins, who were thirteen, smiled innocently. As soon as her car turned the corner, Maya took a recipe out of her pocket. "Right," she said. "Mum's going to be forty tomorrow, and we're going to make her the best chocolate cake in Auckland."

Leo looked at the recipe. "It says it takes three hours. We've got nine. That's easy." Their dog, Biscuit, watched them from the sofa with great interest. Dogs always know when food is going to happen.

They started well. Maya measured the flour, sugar and cocoa while Leo broke the eggs. Only two pieces of shell went into the bowl, and he took them out with a spoon. "I'll mix, you melt the chocolate," Maya said. Then Leo turned on the mixer at full speed. A white cloud exploded across the kitchen. Flour covered the walls, the window, Maya's hair and Biscuit, who now looked like a small ghost.

It took an hour to clean the kitchen. They started again, more carefully this time, and at last the cake went into the oven. "It'll be ready at twelve thirty," Leo said. "Let's watch one episode while we wait." One episode became three.

The smoke alarm was the first thing they noticed. They ran into the kitchen. Black smoke was coming out of the oven, and the cake looked like a burnt brick. Maya sat down on the floor. "It's almost three o'clock. Mum gets home at five. We're never going to make it." Leo opened all the windows. "Yes, we are. We've got exactly enough eggs for one more cake. I'm going to set an alarm on my phone this time."

The third cake was perfect: tall, dark and smelling of chocolate. They left it on the table to cool and went upstairs to make a card. When they came back down, the plate was on the floor, and Biscuit was lying under the table with chocolate on his nose. Half of the cake had disappeared.

At five o'clock their mother opened the door. The kitchen smelled of smoke, there was still flour on the ceiling, and her two children were standing next to half a cake with forty candles on it. Biscuit was hiding behind the sofa. For a moment she didn't say anything. Then she started laughing so hard that she had to sit down.

"This is the best birthday cake I've ever had," she said, and she ate a piece with her fingers. "Next year, though, I think we'll buy one."