Recipe for Love (14 page)

‘Don’t worry, you’re all right.’

Zoe went to her bed to hunt out her pyjamas from under her pillow. At the same time as she put her hand on the bed and found that it was wet she saw that the window, which she clearly remembered shutting, was open.

‘No!’ she shouted. ‘My bed is soaking. Cher!’

As she was wearing only a towel, she hunted in her rucksack for another pair of pyjamas and put them on, then she thought what to do.

Convinced it was Cher’s fault her bed was wet, she felt she should take over the double bed and let Cher cope with sleeping on the tiny sofa without any bedding. But
what
was the point? It would just mean hours of shouting and fighting and upset. And there was no way she was sharing a bed with Cher even if Cher would countenance it (which she wouldn’t). No, she would go over to the house – she knew where the key was now – and snuggle up on the sofa in the kitchen. It would be warm and safe and she could think what to do about Cher in the morning. The woman was clearly deranged – all that business about them becoming ‘bessie mates’ when really she was trying to blow her chances in the competition. But why tonight? They didn’t have to do anything until nearly at least midday. They had a morning of rest and recuperation. As she got her things together she wondered if she was using Cher’s weird behaviour as an excuse to go to the house, in the hope that she’d see Gideon.

She had to ask herself the question, but she knew she’d be mad to try and see Gideon deliberately. She’d got away with spending the night with him once, by the proverbial skin of her teeth: she couldn’t chance it again.

But her bed was wet, and given that the room where he’d been sleeping was still being decorated he probably wasn’t there. This thought was a relief and she finished packing her day sack. Her one act of revenge was to take Cher’s wellington boots. They were bigger than hers and easier to slip on. Cher would never fit her size seven feet into Zoe’s size fives.

Zoe opened the back door as quietly as she could and replaced the key. For a moment she hesitated. If Gideon was there, it could be desperately awkward, not to mention get her thrown out of the competition. Then she shivered and realised she couldn’t go back. She stepped out of the wellingtons and tiptoed into the kitchen, hoping there weren’t dogs in there who were likely to bark.

She needn’t have bothered to be so quiet. The kitchen was occupied.

‘Hello, Zoe!’ said Rupert, looking up from a loaf of bread he was slicing. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘Oh!’ Zoe was so convinced that the kitchen would be empty she hadn’t prepared anything to say. ‘Um, is Fen still up?’

‘Yes. We’re upstairs in our little sitting room eating sandwiches and drinking. Why don’t you join us? You could carry the wine, and we’ll need an extra glass. I’ve lit the fire. There’s something wonderfully decadent about a fire in summer, don’t you think?’

‘Oh no, I don’t want to intrude …’

‘You wouldn’t be intruding and you said you wanted Fen. She’d love to see you. Come on, pick up that bottle and follow me.’

Zoe took the bottle Rupert indicated. She followed him up the stairs and along the landing. Rupert opened a door. ‘This would have been a bedroom, but we’ve turned it into a little room for us when the house is full, or in this case being decorated. Go in.’

The first thought that occurred to her was that by no one else’s standards would it be described as a little room. Although to be fair it was smaller than the reception rooms she’d caught sight of and been in briefly at the beginning of the competition. The fireplace at one end seemed large for a bedroom and a log fire burned brightly in it. Two substantial scuffed leather sofas were pulled up at each side and a large low coffee table covered in clutter was in between.

On one of the sofas, looking completely at home, was Gideon.

Her heart did a jolt that told her she was pleased to see him but her brain told her to turn around and go straight
back
downstairs to the kitchen, revert to Plan A and sleep on the sofa.

No one seemed to notice the battle between her brain and her heart. Fen had her feet up on a large pouffe and was laughing at Gideon as if they’d known each other all their lives.

‘Here’s Zoe,’ announced Rupert. ‘I found her in the kitchen.’

‘Zoe!’ Fenella waved enthusiastically. ‘Come in. I can’t move, I’m afraid, but this is so nice! I was wondering how you were getting on and didn’t think I could ask Gideon.’

Gideon got up. After a moment’s pause he smiled, seemingly glad to see her. ‘Come and sit by the fire. You look a bit chilly. And you’re wearing your pyjamas,’ he added, surprised.

Zoe felt herself enveloped in warmth, from the fire and from the welcome she received.

‘Hello! I didn’t mean to crash a party!’ she said. ‘Unless it’s a pyjama party.’

‘Oh it is!’ said Fenella. ‘It’s all I wear these days. Rupes, get her a drink. Gideon, shove up so she can sit down.’

Gideon moved and patted the seat beside him. ‘Oh, you’ve got bare feet,’ he said when she was seated. ‘Why?’

‘I was wearing wellies when I came over but I took them off at the back door. They were terribly muddy.’

‘We’re not overly fussed about mud in this house unless we have proper guests,’ said Fenella. ‘Not like Gideon, who’s not proper at all.’

Gideon gave Fenella a look that meant he took this as the compliment it was. Then he took a rug from the back of the sofa, tucked it under Zoe’s feet and then lifted them on to the sofa. Zoe was touched by this gesture, although she tried to compose herself. Her emotions were all over the place. ‘So what are you doing here?’

‘I came to see if Fen was still up.’

‘Problem?’ Fen asked.

‘Yes.’ Zoe accepted the glass of wine Rupert held out to her.

‘What?’ asked Fen.

Zoe had hoped to tell Fenella privately what had happened. Now there was nothing for it; she’d have to tell them all. ‘My bed got wet while I was out today,’ Zoe said.

‘You didn’t leave the window open, did you?’ Fenella asked, clearly horrified.

‘No, I didn’t!’ said Zoe.

‘Was it that little cow Cher?’ asked Gideon. ‘She is pure poison.’

‘It must have been her because I clearly remember shutting it,’ Zoe went on. ‘I didn’t want to share a bed with her and was planning to sleep on the sofa in the kitchen, if you weren’t up.’

‘Oh, you don’t need to do that!’ said Fen. ‘We’ll find you a corner. Look, have another glass of wine for me.’ She paused. ‘It’s not really the alcohol I miss – at least I hope it isn’t – it’s the mateyness, the fun of sitting round with friends getting slightly pissed.’

Rupert topped up Zoe’s glass. ‘I’m afraid that ship has sailed,’ she said. ‘We went to the pub earlier and then Cher wanted to do shots.’

Gideon took the glass away from her. ‘You don’t want a hangover tomorrow.’

She took it back. ‘I know. I drank loads of water.’

‘Have a sandwich,’ said Rupert. ‘We’ve all eaten supper too but got hungry again. Or rather, Fen did, and so we didn’t want to be left out.’

Zoe sipped the wine and nibbled the sandwich, her legs curled under the rug on the sofa. Gideon put his arm
round
her in a casual way making her feel part of the group, but also rather special. Yet again she pushed away her anxieties about fraternisation with judges.

But she really was tired. The various stresses and strains of the day had finally caught up with her. She put down her glass and refused more wine. Really, she should break up the party and find somewhere to sleep. But that would involve Fenella moving too, and she was obviously having a very nice time.

Her eyes closed and somehow, Gideon pulled her closer to him so she was more comfortable, snuggled under his arm. She gave in to the lovely feeling of warmth, the delicious smell of his cologne, the friendly chatter between him and Fenella and Rupert and was soon lost in a deep and dreamless sleep.

SHE REALISED SHE
must have dozed off when she heard the others talking about her.

‘She’s dead to the world,’ said Fenella, ‘and I didn’t find her anywhere to spend the night.’

‘Not sure where you’d planned,’ said Rupert. ‘There isn’t anywhere. All the rooms are either uninhabitable or full of stuff for the day after tomorrow.’

‘We could just cover her in blankets and leave her here,’ suggested Fenella, but didn’t sound keen. Zoe felt this was a very acceptable option. She was all ready for bed after all. It would be nice not to have to move. She kept her eyes closed.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll look after her,’ said Gideon.

There was a pause – a pause in which Zoe knew she should stir and gently wake up and not continue to eavesdrop.

‘Well, I hope you do,’ said Fenella, sounding stern. ‘I like Zoe.’

‘It’s all right,’ said Gideon, ‘so do I. She can share my bed. As it sleeps six comfortably, she can be perfectly chaste.’ He didn’t point out they’d done it before and she was thankful Fenella and Rupert obviously hadn’t known.

‘It’s not just that,’ Fen went on. ‘She’s a contestant, you’re a judge. If anyone found out, she’d have to leave in disgrace and you might too.’

‘Trust me. I’ll protect her. No one will find out.’

There was a silence. Zoe tried to imagine the concerned glances. Then there was a sigh. ‘I don’t want to make things awkward for you,’ said Gideon eventually.

‘It’s not that …’ said Fenella. ‘Oh – give me the last sandwich and I’ll forgive you.’ There was silence, presumably while Fenella chewed.

Her anxieties seemingly soothed, she went on. ‘Sarah’s coming over tomorrow to make final wedding plans. I do hope your contestants are going to do a good job with the catering,’ she said to Gideon.

‘They’re perfectly capable, and as the TV company is paying for all the food and wine, I don’t think the couple will have cause for complaint.’

‘I know that really,’ Fenella went on and then groaned. It sounded like she was trying to get up. ‘But I still don’t want people having a bad time under my roof.’

‘They won’t.’ Gideon sounded confident. ‘With people like Zoe and Muriel, who are really efficient and jolly good cooks too, there’ll be no problem.’

‘I want to employ Zoe,’ said Fenella. ‘She’d be perfect to take over from me while I’m out of action with Buster here. I’ll ask her in the morning. Heave me up, Scotty, and transport me to bed!’

‘And I’d better take Sleeping Beauty,’ said Gideon.

Another cue for Zoe to wake, but she didn’t want to. She wanted to stay being cared for by Gideon even if it would be embarrassing if he couldn’t lift her. She’d obviously wake up then. But it would really spoil the mood.

Maybe she’d lost weight recently because he got her into his arms without difficulty. But it was very hard for Zoe to stay completely relaxed, lolling her head and relaxing her arms. As they progressed out of the room she suddenly worried in case the position of her head caused her to dribble. She decided if anything like that looked like
happening
she’d stir, moan a little and say, ‘Where am I?’ She hoped it wouldn’t be necessary. Although it would have been nice to use this famous cliché perfectly genuinely, it would be nicer to be tucked up into Gideon’s bed.

She’d had plenty of time to think about sleeping with Gideon and come to the wicked, foolish conclusion that she was not going to waste this second opportunity. If she could persuade him, with it looking completely natural and as if it was his idea, she would. She had a major crush on him and felt she would regret it for the rest of her life if she didn’t make the most of the situation. And she was in a reckless mood tonight. Nothing seemed to matter but this moment.

Fenella was escorting Gideon and opening the doors. When they reached his bedroom he said, ‘Can you put the bedside light on? And now pull back the cover? Thanks.’

Gideon laid Zoe gently down and pulled up the duvet. It was all she could do not to put her arm over it as she always did, but she thought sudden movement might show that she was awake.

‘I’m not entirely happy about this,’ Fenella whispered.

‘I could put a line of pillows down the middle of the bed if it would make you any happier.’ Zoe could hear that Gideon was smiling.