Recipe for Love (31 page)

‘I’ll say no for you then,’ said Hermione. ‘I’m well up for a row with that woman!’

‘No, Mum!’ This obviously wasn’t helpful. ‘I can’t have people rowing. If they want to have Glory done now, I don’t mind. Just as long as Sarah and Hugo can come and I don’t have to arrange it.’

‘You won’t have to do a thing, darling, I’ll see to that.’

‘Me too!’ chimed in Zoe. This was ground she felt
comfortable
on. ‘Although I think Rupert will have to make arrangements with the vicar. Is he nice?’

‘He’s lovely!’ said Fenella, suddenly beaming. ‘And he’s a woman! I mean, she’s a woman, but that’s brilliant because it will really piss off Rupes’ parents. They’re dead against women priests. Very high-church Anglican.’

‘I thought you didn’t want conflict?’ said Hermione, confused.

‘Well, I do and I don’t. I don’t want to have to keep the peace between you and them, but I wouldn’t mind if something made them go off in a huff as long as Rupert didn’t have to spend weeks and weeks building bridges.’

Hermione sighed. ‘OK then. Glory can wear the hideous Gainsborough robe and not our lovely one.’

‘Is it hideous? I haven’t seen it. And it’s a baby dress, how can it be hideous?’ asked Fenella.

‘It’s bound to be. That family has no taste,’ said Hermione.

‘Rupert is lovely though,’ said Zoe.

‘Well, to be fair’ – it was obviously an effort – ‘old christening dresses usually are pretty tiny so if you want Glory to wear the Gainsborough robe – or even ours – it had better be now.’

Fenella got up for supper. Rupert carried his baby daughter down to the basement as tenderly as Zoe had ever seen anyone carry anything. Zoe carried the stand for the Moses basket in one hand, and the basket in the other. Fenella was allowed to carry an extra cushion to sit on.

‘Is this wise?’ demanded her mother-in-law the moment Fenella appeared. ‘I’m sure – thing – here’ – she flapped a hand at Zoe – ‘could have brought you up a tray.’

‘I wanted to join the rest of the world,’ said Fenella.
‘And
Zoe
has spent quite long enough looking after me.’

Lady Gainsborough said, ‘If you say so, dear,’ with a silent ‘don’t blame me if it all goes hideously wrong’ expression.

‘Fenella, m’dear,’ said her father-in-law. ‘Have a glass of claret. Good for the blood.’

‘Yes, have a drink!’ Fenella’s father encouraged.

‘I’m not sure I should really,’ said Fenella.

‘Why not?’ demanded her father-in-law, who obviously thought abstinence was a surer sign of insanity than anything else.

‘Breastfeeding,’ said his wife as if it were a euphemism for drinking vomit.

‘Oh, darling, I’m sure one glass wouldn’t hurt,’ said Rupert.

When everyone had full glasses and Rupert was back in charge of the Aga (the cottage pie having been removed sometime previously), Lady Gainsborough banged a fork against a glass, calling the meeting to order.

‘Honestly, we’re only family,’ Hermione muttered to Zoe behind her hand.

‘Er, excuse me?’ Lady Gainsborough had heard the mutter. ‘We need to make a few decisions.’

Zoe got up to help Rupert. She didn’t want to be caught taking sides.

‘Actually only Fen and Rupert need to decide anything,’ said Hermione, playing with a salt-cellar in a way that implied she could throw it with speed and accuracy if necessary.

‘I beg to differ,’ said a woman who had never begged for anything, ever. ‘This is a family decision.’

‘What is?’ asked Rupert amiably, cheerfully unaware of a whole lot of undercurrents.

‘Which christening robe is to be used,’ snapped Lady Gainsborough. ‘As the baby is a Gainsborough it’s important that she’s in the family robe.’

‘I don’t see that,’ said Hermione, although she’d privately agreed it would be the best choice. ‘Our robe is far prettier.’

‘It’s probably too small,’ said Lady Gainsborough. ‘Fenella’s baby’ – she obviously couldn’t bring herself to use the name – ‘is on the large side.’

‘Are you saying my baby is fat?’ said Fenella, stung.

‘Seven and a half pounds is never fat, sweetie,’ said Rupert. ‘It’s a lovely healthy weight.’

‘Can I make a suggestion?’ said Lord Gainsborough loudly, making sure everyone heard him. ‘That we postpone the matter of which gown the baby wears until tomorrow? It is only a girl, after all.’

Fortunately Rupert and Zoe contrived to put large plates of food in front of the main protagonists before war could break out.

TO EVERYONE’S SATISFACTION
, the vicar was delighted for the christening to be held during morning service the following Sunday. Fenella and Rupert were delighted and extremely grateful. Sarah and Hugo, who were to be godparents, had the weekend free.

Zoe suggested to Fenella that she should go home, that she wasn’t needed any more and that as she wasn’t a family member, she was just in the way. She didn’t mention that she had to practise for her fine-dining challenge.

‘Oh God, I’ve been so selfish! I didn’t think about you wanting to go home. Of course! You’ve got to practise! Do go if you want to. We’ll manage somehow.’ She frowned slightly. ‘You couldn’t practise here, could you? No, of course not. Forget I asked.’

Fenella’s anguish made Zoe laugh. ‘Oh, Fen! I don’t particularly want to go home. I’m sure I could practise if no one minded eating the food. I’m having so much fun here.’ She’d looked up some recipes on her laptop when she wasn’t busy being helpful and she really needed to actually test-run some of them, but she hadn’t felt comfortable about using the Somerby families as guinea pigs – not that she’d had time. But she really ought to get on with it; she felt the responsibility even more keenly because she’d promised Gideon.

As, somehow, she and Gideon hadn’t exchanged numbers in the rush of him leaving, Somerby was the
only
place where he could get in touch with her. She felt horribly disappointed that he hadn’t – and nor had he called Rupert to see how the baby was. She ached for him. She felt rather lonely in the cowshed on her own, not that she wished Cher was there with her. But at least she’d have been a distraction.

‘Do you really need me?’ she said.

‘Need you? Yes! God! After you’d cleared out that chest of drawers for the baby clothes even Rupert’s mother said that you weren’t a complete waste of space. That’s code for “absolutely invaluable”. And if she thinks you’re useful, the rest of us are utterly dependent! But you mustn’t, whatever you do, jeopardise your chances of winning the competition because you haven’t had time to practise.’

‘I’ll make time,’ said Zoe, relieved and pleased. She felt closer to Gideon being here where they had last been together. She’d stay for as long as she was wanted.

‘And of course we do need a christening cake, not to mention lunch.’

‘Lunch?’

‘We’re having Glory done during morning service, so everyone will come back here for lunch. With luck we can set out a couple of long tables under the trees and pretend we’re in France.’

‘Oh, that does sound lovely!’

‘Yes. Rupes will poach a couple of salmon and do his trademark side of beef. We’ll have salad, bread, cheese, various bits of cured pig. Soft fruit for pudding and a cake.’ She smiled hopefully at Zoe. ‘I know it’s a bit cheeky to ask but what sort of cake would you like to make? Is there anything you’d especially like to practise? We know you’re ace at cupcakes, so I don’t expect you want to do them?’

‘Not really. I probably need to practise some sort of pâtisserie …’

Fenella thought for a moment. ‘Not sure if it counts but I’ve always yearned for one of those tower things made of profiteroles …’

‘A croquembouche?’ Zoe’s eyes widened. ‘Choux pastry? I’ve never made one.’

‘Oh, just make whatever you like! I’m sure anything would be lovely.’

‘No! If you want a croquembouche, that’s what you shall have. I think it would be really good for me. Although time-consuming, if you need me to do other stuff.’

‘I’ll make sure I won’t. You’ve done far too much already.’ She took Zoe’s hand. ‘I can’t tell you how grateful I am. You’ve been an absolute star. And Mum will pitch in and it’s going to be very simple, but I would just love that cake. I can just picture it. All French and lovely.’

‘Let’s do it then!’

Zoe worked out that she’d have to make at least a hundred choux buns and after discussion with Fenella decided to fill them with flavoured cream and stick them together with caramel. She’d find some pink flowers or rose petals to finish the decoration. That sort of dramatic pudding might be just what she needed for the final challenge. She thought of Gideon. He’d be pleased she was getting down to it at last.

She did her choux buns in batches, when the kitchen wasn’t needed for anything else. She and Fenella wanted to keep it a secret as long as possible, although Hermione fairly soon realised there were going to be a lot of cream puffs at this christening.

‘If you’re not peeling potatoes or doing something else for those gannets …’ She paused to make sure Zoe knew
who
she was talking about. ‘… you’re making choux buns. What’s up?’

Zoe chuckled. ‘It’s not really a secret although Fen and I are trying to keep it dark so we get maximum effect, but we’re making one of those tower things as the cake.’

‘You mean you are? You’re an absolute treasure. Poor dear Fen only seems able to make milk for that baby! Talk about hungry. She never stops eating!’

‘I’m sure it’s all right. Fen seems to like it. Whenever I take her a snack she’s cuddled up with Glory, reading,’ said Zoe.

‘Yes, and of course You Know Who says it’s mad and she should only feed Glory four-hourly. I never had a baby that went for four hours between feeds.’

‘As long as it works for Glory, what else matters?’ said Zoe, who was beginning to feel she knew quite a lot about babies now. Feed them and change them and bath them sometimes seemed to cover it.

In spite of everyone’s insistence that it was all going to be very ‘simple’ Zoe knew enough to realise that ‘simple’ usually meant ‘incredibly well thought out and planned’. Thus, everyone was busy, sourcing food, ordering it and, later, collecting it. Zoe went off to fetch at least a gallon of double cream from Susan and Rob’s dairy and then on to pick up some home-made salami. It was going to be a feast. Although she knew she was not being tested and as long as it looked more or less all right no one would mind if her croquembouche didn’t look as if it belonged in the window of a French pâtisserie, she had her pride. She also needed to feel she was working towards her goal of winning the competition and not just having a lovely time with friends, however tempting that idea was.

*

Zoe was gathering her profiteroles, having taken the latest batch out of the oven, Hermione was making fairy cakes and Fenella was ensconced on the sofa, with Glory in the Moses basket, when Rupert’s mother came into the kitchen.

‘What is going on?’ she demanded, making Zoe feel like a schoolgirl whose midnight feast had been discovered. ‘We won’t need all those cream puffs! Why on earth did you make so many?’

‘I’m just making the christening cake,’ said Zoe, sounding more confident than she felt.

‘But why? Haven’t you got the top layer of your wedding cake?’ Rupert’s mother directed her wrath at Fenella.

Fenella looked bemused. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Oh!’ said Hermione, ‘I think I have got it somewhere. It’s in the freezer.’

‘But it should be used as the christening cake. It’s traditional.’ Now Lady Gainsborough looked bewildered. ‘Surely you know that?’ She turned to everyone in turn except Zoe, who was staff and so not expected to know anything.

Zoe put down the gold circle on which she was basing her creation, wondering if she should leave it until she was alone. It was tricky enough to do, but with World War Three going on around her, it would be almost impossible. On the other hand, it would be good practice to be thoroughly stressed out when she assembled it.

‘I can’t believe you didn’t know that about the christening cake,’ Lady Gainsborough repeated.

‘Well, I might have known it, but when we came down we didn’t know we were going to be bounced into a christening, so we didn’t bring it with us!’ said Hermione, with right on her side. ‘If you hadn’t been in such a hurry—’