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Authors: Miriam Morrison

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BOOK: Recipe for Disaster
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As they got out of the car, three figures popped out from
behind a tree.

'We were too scared to go in without you,' giggled Kirsty,
whose high heels kept getting stuck in the grass.

'Probably a good thing. If anyone sees Godfrey they'll
think he's a bloody waiter. The only thing you are missing
is a tray of canapés.'

'Ha ha. Mum said I had to wear this suit. It took me ages
to find the tie – someone was using it as a dog lead.'

'If anyone asks you for a drink, just bark. I detect a faint
whiff of dog about you anyway,' said Hans. He'd had an
enormous spliff before setting out, so, unlike the others, was
feeling chilled out and mellow.

'Well, let's get this over with,' said Jake. This was his first
evening off for ages and he had to spend it here, of all
places. How annoying was that?

They went up the wide steps, between two stone lions
and into a hall.

'My mum was here ages ago, helping out at a party,' said
Kirsty. 'They wanted her to wear a black dress, but she said,
you'll have to pay me a lot more than four quid an hour to
put that thing on when it's still got sweaty marks under the
arms, and as for those shoes, why they'll be bloody lethal on
this floor and –'

'Please shut up,' begged Jake, catching sight of Georgia's
stony face.

They didn't know it but the butler had only been hired
for the evening and was massively pissed off already after
being bawled out for nipping off for a sneaky fag.

'As the weather is so fine, the party has assembled on the
terrace by the pool,' he intoned automatically. Then he
recognised Jake because his dad sometimes supplied the
restaurant with veg. 'How you doing, mate? Didn't expect
to see you at this sort of do.'

'Likewise,' grinned Jake. 'I thought you would be far too
busy trying to offload those cauliflowers I told you I hadn't
ordered.'

'They're paying me a hundred quid for tonight. Mind
you, I'm earning every penny of it. They are all out the back
– just head for the noise, you can't miss them,' he said,
gloomily.

At the back of the house was an enormous terrace and
beyond that, a pool. And loads of people, all dressed up,
talking and laughing loudly. Harry's mother was in the
middle of the largest group, holding court and taking
fortifying sips from a very large gin. She was still very
beautiful, though her skin was starting to look slightly too
stretched over her face.

She came over to greet them. 'You must be Harry's new
friend!'

Jake tried not to shudder. That was truly a horrible
thought.

'He has told us all about your brave attempt to set up in
the restaurant trade. Good for you! And please don't forget
that Harry is always very generous with advice.'

Jake wanted to retort that the only thing Harry was
usually generous with were insults and that he would know
he was done for if he ever had to go to him for help, but
luckily Georgia interrupted.

'What a gorgeous pool.'

'I'm afraid we haven't put the heating on,' said Mrs
Hunter quickly. She had clocked Georgia's youth and
beauty instantly and the fact that men's eyes were swivelling
over from every corner of the garden. There was no way
she was going to let her take off her clothes and cause even
more of a stir.

'Glad you could make it!' Harry appeared, a picture of
friendliness. 'There's someone from
Elle
magazine over
there – he says he knows you. Let me get you a glass of
champagne and take you over to him,' he continued,
whisking Georgia away with his usual skill. Tess's eyes
followed them suspiciously, but what trouble could they get
into in a garden full of people?

'I can't see anyone I know,' Georgia said, leaning forward
to peer short-sightedly round and causing one nipple
to venture out from the inadequate folds of her dress.

Harry swallowed, seriously turned on. 'I lied. I just
wanted to get you on your own.'

Georgia was hugely flattered but scared. 'How sweet, but
you shouldn't have done that. I can't leave Jake on his own.'

'He has disappeared already,' said Harry with perfect
truth. 'At least let me get you a drink.

Wrinkling her nose to try to see more clearly (she had
forgotten her contact lenses again), Georgia couldn't see
Jake anywhere.

As soon as her back was turned Jake had made off. His
crew had made a beeline for the bar. He was on his own and
feeling very out of place.

'What a bunch of superficial, shallow wankers,' he
muttered out loud to make himself feel better.

'I couldn't agree more, sir,' said the butler, appearing
out of nowhere. 'Personally, I would recommend vast
quantities of alcohol, but avoid the whisky – it tends to make
one want to biff someone.' Jake laughed so much, the
bubbles from the champagne went up his nose. Coughing
and spluttering, he retreated to the door so that he
wouldn't embarrass Georgia.

As Jake stood on the steps Kate's equally shabby car shot
up the drive with no regard for a very old and hugely
overweight Jack Russell terrier which had just sat down to
get its breath back after trying and failing miserably to catch
a rabbit. Kate flew in between two Rollers, narrowly missing
a wing mirror, and parked on a slant, as if she didn't give a
damn, which she didn't.

Jake suddenly felt much more cheerful. There was a
splendid air of self-confidence about her as she kicked the
door shut, which was the only way of getting it to stay shut.
She was wearing a very short, bright red skirt and flat shoes,
which only served to draw attention to her long, slender
legs, which were covered with fake tan. Waitresses, she had
discovered, rarely saw daylight, let alone sunshine. There
hadn't been time to blow dry her hair, so she had just tied
it back and slapped on some blusher. Her sharply clever
little face glowed. Unseen, he watched her look up at the
house and assess it. Then she saw him and gave him a grin
of complete complicity. She came over.

'What's it like? Loads of money, but no style?' she hissed
hopefully.

Jake was forced to be honest. 'Actually, the house is lovely
– it has real character. I wish it was mine.'

'Makes you want to spit, doesn't it?'

'I wouldn't dare do anything so working class here. They
might set the dogs on me.'

'Well, that one wouldn't be able to give you a run for your
money,' she said, pointing to the terrier, which was lying
down and wheezing. 'He's obviously eating too many scraps
from Harry's restaurant.'

'So does his dad. Harry's, I mean, not the dog's. I passed
him just now. His stomach is practically down to his knees
and he looked at me in total disbelief, as if he couldn't work
out what the hell such a scruffy person was doing in his
house.'

'You look fine – for someone who obviously doesn't want
to spend money on clothes.'

They wandered over to the pool, where they were
greeted with relief by their colleagues.

'Absolutely no one is talking to us,' complained Godfrey.

'Well, we are prepared to slum it, just this once,' said
Jake, sitting down.

'Shouldn't you be schmoozing and making lots of useful
contacts?' asked Kirsty.

'Probably, but I can't bring myself to, yet. I should find
Georgy, though.'

'Oh, she went off with Harry, but she looked like she
could take care of herself.'

'That's good.' Jake felt slightly uneasy at this, but was
distracted by having to stop Hans from rolling a joint in
front of the chief constable.

'That stuff makes you so bloody mellow, you lose all sense
of reason!' he complained.

'That's why I smoke it – when I'm sober I'm just too
strait-laced and sensible!' Hans grinned in reply.

In the end Jake didn't have to schmooze. A number of
people found him and said such nice things about his
cooking he perked up no end.

It was obvious to Kate that the men appreciated the food.
The women were too busy appreciating the chef. It was also
obvious that Jake was completely unaware of this. He
chattered away happily about sauces and restaurants and
other cooking-related subjects, while the women nodded
and smiled and looked lustfully at him. She sighed. He
probably thought they were just rather hungry.

Godfrey was pursuing an ambition to see how many
champagne slammers he could get down before someone
stopped him. Nature intervened when the third one went
down the wrong way.

'By dose is going to explode!' he spluttered.

Jake and Kate leaned forward at the same time to slap
him on the back. As she leaned forward he could see right
down her top. She'd fake-tanned her breasts, but in rather
a slapdash way and there were one or two pale streaks on
her skin. Jake found himself wondering how far down she
had gone. But someone had put the Beatles on a state-of-the-art sound system, and as the music drifted over, a
woman asked him to dance. He got up with a certain
amount of relief, even though he knew he was terrible
dancer.

The woman didn't mind at all because it meant she kept
having to put her arm on his to stop him falling in the pool.
He kept glancing over at Kate to see what she was doing.
Maybe it would be better if he just fell in and cooled down
before he did something silly.

Harry had taken Georgia to the summerhouse, the scene of
many nefarious activities in his youth. He had smoked his
first joint here, screwed his first girl, dumped his first girl.
Built like a tiny log cabin, it was hidden among the trees,
cool and private. There were no chairs to sit on, just masses
of cushions piled up on the floor. It gave an impression of
rustic simplicity, but it was cleaned and polished by the
housekeeper every week.

Harry had brought a bottle of Bollinger with him and
was rummaging around in a little cupboard for the glasses
he kept there.

Georgia sat down and waited in silence. She had a feeling
she shouldn't be doing this, but not being an introspective
person she was unable to take this thought much further.
But taking things too far was Harry's forte. He gave
Georgia two large glasses of bubbly in quick succession to
weaken her defences and then pulled her towards him.

It was so long since she and Jake had kissed like this it was
quite overwhelming, especially as Harry kept breaking off
to look deep into her eyes and stroke her hair and neck as
if he was examining a priceless piece of porcelain.

'You are far too thin,' he grumbled.

'I have to be – it's in my contract.'

'But I want to lick every inch of your body and I'd be
finished far too soon. I suppose then I could start all over
again,' he whispered into her neck and she shivered with
pleasure.

'You're much bigger than Jake,' she said, stroking the
powerful muscles in his neck and back.

'I'm big everywhere,' he grinned. 'If I wanted to, I could
break you.' He put his hands on her breasts in a proprietary
way.

'I haven't felt like this for such a long time,' she said
dreamily, between kisses.

'Like what?' Harry always had to know in great detail
how good he was. He could never get enough of himself.

'So helpless, I mean. I know we shouldn't be doing this,
but I don't want to stop, and somehow it feels so right.'

'Then we won't stop. We should go where our . . . er,
hearts, lead us.'

'Yes, of course. I hadn't thought of it like that, but now it
all makes sense.'

He put his tongue very gently to her nipple, then pulled
away, just as she was squirming with excitement. He made
sure she was watching him manfully regaining his composure,
then he said: 'I can't do this and then just walk away.'

Georgia, who hadn't been thinking at all, beyond the
next sensation of pleasure, tried to muster her senses, such
as they were. 'But we can't just stop here!'

He took her hand and traced the lines on her palm.
'Maybe we should. I wish I could read our future here, but
I can't. You have to help me. Where will the next days,
weeks, months, take us? Will we be together?'

Georgia felt strong, in control. 'Of course! For the first
time I feel . . . I feel that I have power!'

'You poor darling! Does he treat you so badly?'

Georgia settled down for a good griping session. 'Only in
a way too subtle for most people to see. The only thing he
ever looks at greedily is food. He's already got a family,
though they are just staff, and the restaurant is like some
monster baby that never sleeps and always needs feeding!
The only attention I ever get is whatever little bit he has left
over. I am just second or third best!' she wailed and started
to cry. She looked at him with huge, doe eyes, as two tears
rolled down her cheeks.

Harry was surprised to discover he was genuinely moved
by this. Dimly he realised that she was the only thing
belonging to Jake that he didn't want to smash up. But he
would
take her from him.

Back at the party, everyone else had gathered round a
buffet of mammoth proportions. Harry's minions had been
slaving away all week, as well as cooking for the restaurant.
Godfrey was making his way through the food with steady
concentration, in the vague hope that if he ate something
the world would stop spinning. Jake had never felt less
hungry in his life but Kate kept insisting he try things from
her plate. 'Too much salt,' he grumbled. She just looked at
him.

'OK, it's all very nice really. I suppose you are right – I
am at his party; I should at least be polite.'

'It's not that. I don't care how rude you are about him.
It's just that dissing the opposition won't make it go away.
You have to build on your strengths and their weaknesses.'

'Sounds like it's a cut-throat world in PR.'

What? She looked at him blankly for a minute. Oh
bollocks, that was her imaginary previous job, wasn't it? She
didn't want to be reminded of her double life just now, so
she fed him another canapé to shut him up.

BOOK: Recipe for Disaster
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