Recipe for Love (19 page)

‘Now really, but I’ll do this first.’

Sarah took on an anguished expression. ‘I do feel guilty. Supposing you go out! It’ll be all my fault!’

‘Don’t be silly! I probably won’t win anyway, I don’t think I cook as well as some of the others.’

‘I bet you cook better than some too!’

‘It’s hard to tell. You don’t get to taste each other’s food all that often.’ Zoe sighed. ‘But I would like to get through to the next stage.’

‘I’ll try and make sure you do,’ said Sarah, sounding grim. ‘It won’t be fair otherwise.’

‘Well, don’t stick up for me too much or the others will suspect something.’

‘What is there to suspect?’

Aware she’d said too much – she didn’t want Sarah knowing about her and Gideon unless she absolutely had to – Zoe shrugged. ‘Oh, you know, that I’ve helped out.’

Sarah was still looking confused when Fenella appeared.

‘Hi! Everyone got everything they need? Will you look at those cakes! They’re amazing! Can I eat one?’

Zoe laughed. ‘There are spares. I had to do extra for the judging so you can eat one if you can face butter cream so early in the morning. But let me get you a cup of tea or something. Rupert said you had a really bad night.’

‘I’ve had better but don’t you look after me. I’m not completely incapable. Yet.’

‘I’ll make you tea,’ said Sarah. ‘You sit down. If you’re going to have a cake eat it at the table.’

‘Actually, I’m not sure I can face one just at the moment.’ Fenella sat. ‘They look lush though, don’t they? We haven’t had a cupcake wedding cake here before although I know they are popular.’

‘They’re easy to serve and some cupcake companies provide boxes so people can take them home,’ said Zoe.

‘What’s worrying me is getting them over to the marquee,’ said Sarah, ‘we’ll need helpers.’

‘I’m not trusting my cupcakes to the competition,’ said Zoe. ‘I wouldn’t put it past Cher to drop them on purpose.’

‘I agree,’ said Fenella. ‘She’s a madam.’

‘A pretty madam,’ said Sarah, ‘and one who knows how to use her charms.’

An hour and a half later Zoe stepped back and admired the cakes. She and Sarah had carried them all over to the marquee in trays. It had worked out just as she had imagined it in her head. The very top layer of cakes was like the tiara on top of the veil, clustered like roses. The tulle billowed out beneath, pinned in places by clutches of cakes, in stages. At the bottom cakes were grouped in twos and threes to look like cut roses. In between the cakes were rose petals, either dried, in deep red, or real pale yellow ones. Sarah was taking pictures with her phone.

‘Any bride who had that as their cake would be over the moon,’ said Fenella.

‘I think she’ll be delighted,’ said Sarah. ‘Her original cake was quite dull really. Just pale yellow with deep red piping. And this’ll be free.’

‘You’ve played a blinder,’ said Rupert, who’d been part of the team ferrying the cupcakes.

‘I’m glad you’re pleased. Now I’ve got to sort out my canapés,’ Zoe said, throwing off her apron and hurrying off to the marquee.

The judges circled the competitors like wolves round a sickly deer calf, Zoe felt. At last, having tasted and commented they gathered everyone together. Gideon stood up to make the announcement.

Having him as the spokesman was unusual and it made Zoe even more nervous.

‘I’m afraid to say that we haven’t been able to come to a decision,’ said Gideon, looking uncharacteristically stressed. ‘An announcement will be made after the wedding.’

‘But it’s obvious,’ said Cher. ‘Zoe should go out. Her canapés are dreadful!’

‘They’re not bad at all,’ said Fred. ‘Those ones with camembert and honey are delicious.’

‘I thought my
supplì
were quite good too,’ said Zoe, seeing as everyone was having their say.

‘They tasted good,’ Anna Fortune agreed, ‘but your presentation is not up to standard. People would not be willing to pay one pound fifty each for them.’

‘But they’re free!’ said Zoe.

‘It’s a competition,’ Anna Fortune reminded her firmly.

‘It’s also a wedding,’ said Sarah equally firmly, ‘and without Zoe we wouldn’t have a cake.’ She looked at her watch. ‘Now, I must go. If everyone could bring their canapés over to the marquee that would be helpful. And then start cooking the hot ones in about an hour and a half. The guests will start arriving for food at about one.’

‘Do you want us to help serve?’ asked Muriel. ‘I have a friend in catering I help out quite often. It’s fun.’

‘Personally, I’m going for a lie-down,’ said Cher, ‘and I should think Zoe needs one too. Heaven knows what she’s been up to all night.’

‘Making cupcakes mostly, I should think,’ said Muriel. ‘Zoe, I had a peek earlier, and they are amazing. I love that it looks like a wedding veil with the cupcakes pretending to be roses. Did you design it yourself?’

Zoe smiled. ‘I did – with a little help from my friends!’

‘Well, it’s beautiful,’ said Muriel.

Becca, who didn’t often comment on others’ food, spending all her concentration on her own efforts, came up. ‘It’s lovely. I hope it doesn’t mean you go out of the competition.’

Zoe sighed. ‘If it does, it does. I don’t think I’m going to win anyway. I think you’re going to do that, Becca.’

Becca blushed. ‘Cooking’s the only thing I’ve ever been remotely good at.’

‘And you’re very good at it,’ said Muriel.

Zoe’s feelings were a whirr of confusion. Excitement and anxiety seemed to add to the constant feeling of longing for Gideon which seemed to underwrite all her other emotions. But mostly, she wanted the bride to like the cake.

It wouldn’t be very long before the wedding party and the guests would arrive for the reception.

The large marquee that the contestants had been using had been sectioned off so that a row of cookers, where the cooks could finish their hot canapés, were separated from the guests.

Standing in the marquee, one would never guess that behind one of the walls six people were anxiously pulling
things
out of ovens and putting them back in again. Zoe, who trusted the alarm on her phone would tell her when she had to rush back to her oven, stood looking at the flower-decorated space whose focal point was the cake.

Someone had lit it so it looked like a work of art. Zoe didn’t know who had done this or if this was usual for wedding cakes but it made her gasp. She took a photograph on her phone to send to her mother later. She felt a surge of pride. Whatever happened she’d created something beautiful and she wanted a record of it.

‘Looks good, doesn’t it?’ said Fenella. ‘I think Hugo – Sarah’s husband? – did the lighting. The roses and the cupcakes exactly the same colour look magical. I do hope you’re pleased.’

Zoe nodded. She felt a bit overcome and couldn’t speak. She cleared her throat. ‘Even if I get knocked out for my untidy canapés I don’t regret doing it.’

Fenella kissed her cheek.

Once the wedding party began to arrive there was no time for contemplation or feeling pleased. All the contestants turned into waiters, carrying trays of hot food out into the crowd. They didn’t have to help but wanted to: for one thing handing round their canapés was the best way to see how they were received. Sarah did tell Becca off at one point for standing over a couple for rather too long while they ate her miniature Yorkshire puddings and rare roast beef, but mostly they mucked in.

Zoe was way behind the others but decided it didn’t matter if not all the food was ready at the same time. But when the last tray of
supplì
was out of the oven where they’d been keeping hot, and the last lot of ciabatta with honey and camembert was done, she found a clean apron and took her food out into the crowd. People were being
called
to order for the speeches so she slipped between them, glad people were still hungry enough to take them.

She was stuck at the back, alone in the crowd, when someone put a glass of champagne into her hand. It was Gideon. ‘Have this, you deserve it.’

Zoe sipped, relishing the sharpness of the bubbles on her tongue. She’d been drinking from a bottle of water while she’d cooked; but it had got warm. This was delicious and palate-cleansing. He stood behind her.

‘Someone might see!’ she whispered, anguished.

‘No one will notice. They’ll just think I happen to be here.’ He rested his hand gently on her waist and pressed in to her.

‘Don’t!’ she said, fear and desire making her dizzy.

‘Then come outside with me and let me kiss you.’

‘I think that’s blackmail,’ she breathed.

‘So?’

She finished the champagne and put the glass on a nearby table. The best man was just clearing his throat. The way he looked at the bride made Zoe hope the woman didn’t get embarrassed easily. It appeared as if all her girlhood follies were about to be exposed, with embellishments.

Gideon led Zoe to an exit between two walls of the marquee and out into the fresh air. There were other people standing about; perhaps they were finding the marquee a little hot as the May sunshine beat down on it. He held out a hand but she didn’t take it, not daring to risk any contact between them being seen. But she followed him between two buildings to where a rose rambled wildly over what had once been a pigsty and was now elegant accommodation.

She felt suddenly shy and, seeing it, he murmured something and pulled her close, kissing the corner of
her
mouth. ‘You’ve done so well, Zoe. That cake is sensational.’

‘Thank you,’ she said quietly as she leant into him. And then he kissed her more thoroughly.

She allowed herself a few seconds of bliss before pulling away. ‘Really, Gideon, this is too risky.’

He looked as if he was about to argue but then he said, ‘You’re right. There’s such a lot to lose if we were found out.’

She looked up into his eyes and felt glad he understood. He could have talked her into kissing him more, or even going somewhere for more than kissing, but he didn’t. It made her like him more. He wasn’t using his power over her for his own ends. Unless he didn’t realise how she felt. She sighed and smiled, glad to think her feelings weren’t too blindingly obvious.

‘I’d better go back. People will wonder where I am.’

‘Go on then. I’ll see you later.’

‘Thank you for the champagne.’

‘Next time, there’ll be a bottle.’

Zoe made her way back to her oven, her heart singing. She didn’t even mind that there was a blackened tray of something she’d forgotten about. Gideon obviously liked her, for herself and not just for sex, or he wouldn’t have let her go. She found herself smiling and couldn’t seem to stop.

The last guests were still wandering round the grounds waiting for buses to take them to the evening do, which was taking place somewhere else.

The contestants were herded together with the film crew to be addressed by the judges. The marquee, so beautiful only hours before, was now being cleared of tables and chairs and flowers and returning to its origins as a tent.
At
the far end furniture was still being shifted and Sarah, as the main judge, had to raise her voice slightly.

‘The bride and groom are delighted with how it all went,’ she announced. ‘I’m so relieved, I can’t tell you. The cake was beyond their wildest dreams,’ she said, looking for Zoe, who was trying to hide behind a flower-decked pillar.

‘But we must remember the challenge wasn’t about a few cupcakes,’ said Anna Fortune, ‘it was about the canapés.’

There was a pause which sent Zoe’s nerves into orbit in spite of the nice things Sarah had said about the cake, while camera angles were altered.

Gideon was muttering into Anna’s ear and Zoe hoped he wasn’t standing up for her. It would draw attention to them if he was and Cher would say – quite rightly – that Zoe was getting preferential treatment.

Zoe felt a stab of guilt. She hadn’t received any advantage (or hardly any) because of what was going on between her and Gideon but it was still wrong. Her conscience was on a hair trigger.

Fred waved at the camera in a cheerful way. ‘I think this used to be described as a judgely huddle,’ and he joined Anna and Gideon in their discussion. Sarah stood slightly outside the circle with her arms folded. She did not look pleased. A part of Zoe felt this would make really good television – a bit of dissension among the judges. The other part felt a stirring of panic: things were obviously not going her way.

Sarah broke in to the group and the discussion went on.

‘They’ll have to cut some of this,’ said Shadrach. ‘It’s getting boring.’

Zoe wasn’t bored but she was in an agony of suspense.

At last the judges broke away from each other, the
cameras
were set up again and Sarah was centre stage. She repeated all she’d said before and added, ‘Although some of the canapés didn’t look quite up to standard, they did taste delicious. Zoe, the judges loved your ciabatta, cheese and honey with hazelnuts but your rice balls looked a little rustic.’