Recipe for Love (12 page)

‘So you did rather well, considering,’ said Cher to Zoe, sending her a smouldering look across the table. ‘I reckon Gideon likes you.’ She made a dismissive little sound. ‘Not sure why, unless there’s something you care to tell us.’

‘I don’t think any of the judges showed any signs of favouritism,’ said Becca, whose confidence had been boosted by some very nice compliments from the judges. ‘I think Zoe just did a really good job with her ingredients. I thought her pudding was lovely.’

‘Not that lovely,’ Cher persisted. ‘I happen to know something about her and Gideon the rest of you don’t!’

‘Please don’t talk about me as if I’m not here,’ said Zoe, feeling suddenly desperately tired.

‘Well, if you don’t want me to tell everyone where you slept last night, you’d better do it yourself!’ said Cher. She’d had a couple of glasses of wine and it seemed to have made her more aggressive than usual.

‘No one is remotely interested in where I slept last night!’ said Zoe. ‘Can you just leave the subject alone?’ Damn Cher, she obviously wasn’t going to give up lightly.

‘I think people will be interested if it affects your chances in the competition!’ Cher looked around, making sure everyone at the table was listening now. ‘So tell us!’

Zoe sighed, aware she had to say something.’ Because Miss Zonked-out here couldn’t be woken to let me in, I had to find somewhere in the main house to sleep.
Which
I did. Now why is that anybody’s business but mine?’

‘Why are you making such a fuss about this, Cher?’ asked Muriel. Zoe could have kissed her. ‘It sounds to me as if it’s a story that doesn’t put you in a good light.’

‘Never mind about me!’ said Cher, determined to finish what she’d started. ‘Make Zoe tell you!’

‘I really don’t see—’ Zoe began, frantically trying to think of something she could say that wasn’t too incriminating.

‘Did you, or did you not, sleep with Gideon Irving?’ Cher banged on the table for emphasis.

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, don’t be ridiculous, Cher. You could get a job standing in for Jeremy Kyle, you could,’ said Muriel. ‘Now can we move on? Anyone got a clue about the next challenge?’

Zoe, who did have a clue in that she knew a wedding was coming up, didn’t answer.

Muriel went on, ‘Well, let’s think what we’ve done so far. Teamwork in the restaurant …’

‘An individual challenge,’ said Becca, ‘which I preferred. I find relying on other people too nerve-racking.’ She glanced at Cher.

‘I like teamwork,’ said Alan. ‘In the theatre you have to rely on each other. I’m used to it.’

‘I still think Zoe should tell us where she slept last night,’ said Cher doggedly.

‘Oh, let go of the bone, Cher!’ said Alan. ‘She’s told us. The main house. Lucky her. It really doesn’t make a difference to any of us if it was the second-best bedroom or the bridal suite.’

Zoe felt herself blush because it had been the bridal suite. ‘It is a huge house. There are loads of bedrooms, although most seem to have the floorboards up or
something
. What I want to know is what the rest of you would do if you won the competition? I want to open a deli. What about you, Alan?’ She knew, of course, but she was desperate to change the subject.

‘Oh, definitely the gastro pub, somewhere lovely, where all my muckers from the old days would come,’ said Alan, suddenly dreamy. ‘I can see it now. I might even buy a few vines in France, produce my own wine and sell it in the restaurant.’

‘That sounds fun,’ said Muriel. ‘I just want a small restaurant in my own area where people can go out for a jolly good meal and not spend a fortune.’

Becca shuddered. ‘I love cooking but I do not want to run a restaurant – or even work in one.’

‘Why not?’ demanded Daniel, emerging from his pit of failure. ‘I love the buzz, the excitement—’

‘I hate being shouted at and from what I’ve seen, there’s a lot of shouting in restaurants,’ Becca explained.

Zoe nodded. ‘You’re dead right. I don’t think people work well under that sort of pressure.’

‘You’re both wusses!’ declared Shadrach. ‘I really get off on that stuff.’

Zoe and Becca exchanged glances.

‘What about you, Cher?’ asked Zoe, wanting to get back at her for her earlier harassment.

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said Cher. ‘I don’t need the money – it’s not all that much anyway. I’d just use it to help my career in some way.’

‘So how do you think you’re going to cope if you don’t like stress?’ demanded Daniel, looking at Becca.

Becca looked around for an answer.

‘Leave her alone, Daniel,’ said Zoe. ‘It’s nothing to do with you any more!’

‘That’s so unfair!’ said Cher. ‘You can’t pick on Daniel
just
because he’s not in the competition. He shouldn’t have gone out! You should!’ Cher’s eyes glittered with resentment.

‘Why should she have gone out, Cher?’ asked Muriel calmly.

‘Because …’ She glanced at Zoe, possibly assessing her chances of getting away with what she wanted to say. Zoe’s expression hardened. She went on: ‘Because she didn’t even cook from recipes!’

‘Oh come on,’ said Muriel. ‘I hardly ever cook from recipes. Zoe’s a good cook. She kept her place through being good, not through sleeping with one of the judges or whatever you were trying to imply earlier.’ She raised an eyebrow at Zoe. Zoe warmed to her even more.

‘You can believe what you want, Muriel. I know what I know!’ Cher flounced off to the loo and Zoe breathed a sigh of relief.

‘I’ll get another round in,’ said Alan.

‘Good idea. I could do with something to take my mind off that unpleasant little scene,’ said Muriel.

Zoe looked at her gratefully, glad of her support.

‘You did brilliantly, Zoe,’ said Becca. ‘No one thinks you shouldn’t still be here.’

But suddenly, Zoe wondered that herself. Should she? She pushed away the thought but accepted the top-up of wine that Alan was now offering. She glanced around the table and wondered if the kind words from Muriel and Becca and the silent backing of Shona actually reflected the expression in their faces. She was fairly sure they’d meant what they’d said about her cooking, but did they think she’d slept with Gideon?

She glanced at her watch. She wanted to go back to the cowshed, suddenly uncomfortable with the company. She liked the other contestants – well, most of them anyway.
Usually
she rather enjoyed their free-time chats (they’d all decided Anna Fortune was the one they had to watch) but tonight she just wanted to be alone to sort out her feelings.

Cher had returned from the Ladies when Mike came over and sat with them for a bit, nursing the last inch of a bottle of beer as he had to drive the bus back later.

‘So, are you all geared up for tomorrow’s challenge?’ he asked.

‘No! We don’t know what it is yet,’ said Cher. ‘They’re not telling us until tomorrow.’

‘Obviously I don’t want to spoil the surprise,’ said Mike. ‘But I’ll warn you, it’s a team effort and a tough one.’

‘Mikey, darling,’ said Cher, linking herself to him and stroking his forearm. ‘Do give us a little tiny hintette.’

‘Wellies,’ he said, enjoying the attention. ‘You’ll probably need wellies.’

They’d all been told to bring wellington boots without being told why.

‘Oh God!’ groaned Cher. ‘We’re going to have to cook in a f—’ She too glanced at Muriel and moderated her language. ‘—flipping field!’

‘That’s it!’ said Mike, finishing his drink. ‘Now time to go home unless you want to walk back.’

Zoe was first on the bus. On the short journey she found herself thinking not of the cooking over bonfires she’d done as a child but of Gideon. And she wished she’d had the courage to sleep with him properly. If she was going to get blamed for it, she might as well have had the pleasure. She fancied him so much and it would have been something to remember forever.

Zoe woke once during the night to shut her window, which was dripping on her. It had started to rain and she
just
had time to realise this would mean the field they were to cook in would be muddy before she drifted off to sleep and dreams of sexy food critics and Elizabeth David.

ZOE’S PHONE AWOKE
them at seven the following morning and they got ready without speaking beyond ‘do you want tea or coffee?’ Zoe decided to try and stop worrying about Cher trying to sabotage her – it was just too difficult to share a house otherwise.

Cher peered out of the window. ‘It’s bloody pouring with rain. Why is it today we have to cook in a field?’

‘Just the way it is. Anyway, we cooked in a field yesterday.’ She went on, ‘Have you done anything like that before?’

‘Are you joking? As if!’

Zoe wasn’t surprised. She didn’t see Cher as the Girl Guide type. Glamping would be the nearest she ever got.

They ate their breakfast cereal in silence and headed for the bus.

‘OK, guys!’ said Mike once they’d arrived at a beauty spot about half an hour away and were safely under canvas. ‘Two teams of four. The judges will decide who goes where and will tell you what’s going on.’

While they waited for the cameramen to do their thing, Zoe crossed her fingers that she wouldn’t be in Cher’s team. It wasn’t that she was afraid of Cher over-salting her potatoes or anything – if they were on the same team she wouldn’t risk jeopardising their chances – but rather
that
she’d probably be hopeless in conditions without electricity and running water.

‘Good morning, contestants!’ said Anna Fortune. ‘I hope you all had a good night’s sleep because you’ve a tough challenge before you today.’

Zoe felt herself blush but decided she had to get over it. Cher might have worked out where she slept the other night but there was no reason to think the judges – apart from Gideon, obviously – had any inkling. ‘You’re going to be cooking a hearty lunch for two groups of ramblers. They will have walked up to seven miles and will be hungry – and wet! They’ll want soup, main course and pudding, but at twelve o’clock on the dot. That gives you three hours. The winning team will be decided by the walkers, but we’ll decide which of you, from the losing team, will go out. Fred, will you tell them who they’re working with?’

Fred smiled benignly and produced a piece of paper from his pocket.

‘OK, we have two team leaders, Muriel and Bill. Bill’s team is Shona, Alan and Becca. Muriel has …’

Zoe didn’t listen to the names. Once she’d realised she’d be working with Cher her spirits slumped. Still, they had Shadrach, who seemed to be brilliant, although how he’d cope without anything except knives and chopping boards had yet to be seen and he was rather messy. Zoe knew that Muriel would be all right, and she would be too. Her own experience as a Saturday girl in a small, ill-equipped café meant she was used to depending on sub-standard equipment.

‘There are ingredients over there.’ Fred made a gesture towards a section of the tented area where piles of boxes could be seen. ‘Decide what you want to cook and get down to it. It’s up to the team leaders to decide who’s
doing
what. Their decision is final so no arguing. You have three hours.’

‘Right, team,’ said Muriel. ‘Follow me to help carry back the food. I’ll choose what to do.’

‘I don’t peel potatoes,’ said Cher.

‘What do you mean you don’t peel potatoes?’ said Zoe. ‘Are you genetically different from the rest of us?’

Cher scowled at her. ‘I don’t do peeling. Just saying.’

Zoe heard Muriel muttering as she strode towards the food, Shadrach at her heels.

‘Come on, we must go and help,’ said Zoe, tugging Cher’s sleeve.

‘I so don’t want to do this!’ Cher said.

‘Look, we’re all in this together,’ said Zoe. ‘If we lose, one of us will go out. If you don’t pull your weight, it’ll be you!’

Finally convinced, Cher followed Zoe to where the others were grabbing provisions and piling them into a basket. She was muttering as she went, but as soon as a camera panned in she was all smiles. The moment it moved to the other group her scowl returned. Zoe couldn’t help marvel at Cher’s chameleon ability to switch the charm on and off and also to sense when the camera was on her.