Everything was ready. I had laid out my writing desk - actually the kitchen table - with all the things I would need: notebooks, my favourite pen, a bottle of black ink, and my iPad (purely for research purposes!). A pot of freshly-brewed tea had been set to one side, along with two china mugs. Then I realised that I had forgotten something. I went to the kitchen cupboards. I picked out a pair of black side plates from the shelves, and put them on top of a cake tin that I had left on the counter. Then, taking a knife from the washing-up, I turned back to the table.

She was there, waiting for me. My red-headed muse. She smiled, and I felt my heart melt. "Hello."

"Hey." I put the cake tin down on the table and prised the lid off. My muse's eyes lit up, changing from green to golden, as the rich aroma of chocolate rose up out of the int.

"Is that what I think it is?"

I nodded and sat down. Then I started setting out the tea things. "Shall I be mother?"

"Did you make it?"

"No," I replied. "You know that I can't bake." I reached for the knife.

My muse pulled out a chair and sat down next to me. "You didn't buy it, did you?" I recognised the edge in her voice.

"Of course not. What kind of a host do you think I am?" My muse relaxed. "Jude brought it, the last time she came down from Barnsley. She made it."

"Ah."

The red-head cosied up next to me, watching me intently as I cut the cake up. I lifted two slices out of the tin and put them on the side plates, one on each plate. "There," I said as I passed her a plate. "Tell me what you think?"

Her thin fingers broke a piece off the slice of cake, and she lifted it into her open mouth. She paused, savouring the feeling of the cake in her mouth, then began to chew. Her eyes closed in bliss. She was obviously enjoying the bitterness of the dark chocolate, the sweetness of the icing and the texture of the crumb. Finally, she swallowed.

"Jude makes very good cake."

I poured out two cups of tea - a light cherry sencha blend that I knew would go perfectly with the cake - and pushed one across the table. "I'm sure she'd love to hear that from you." Then I picked up my pen and opened one of my notebooks. "Shall we get started?"

My muse nodded. "Just keep the cake coming."