Recipe for Love (42 page)

They often ate together in the evenings, most often in Astrid’s little cottage, which had a tiny courtyard garden with a table that was, Astrid declared, just about big enough for two plates and two glasses and a bottle.

‘I’ve got all the local press, the free papers and
Cotswold Life
lined up,’ said Astrid, ‘and a new foodie mag that’s based locally. Should be good!’

‘Should be excellent but how many people do I cater for?’

‘Fifty,’ said Astrid firmly.

‘You just took that figure out of the air, didn’t you?’

Astrid nodded. ‘It’s as good a way as any to decide! We can sell the leftovers.’

‘I don’t think so!’ said Zoe. ‘But we could eat them.’

*

A few days later Astrid was writing an order and Zoe was behind the counter, retweaking the display of Bach flower remedies, when she heard the bell. She turned round with a welcoming smile on her face but when she saw who it was she ducked down, out of view. It was Rupert’s parents.

Fortunately for her, they were talking loudly to each other and weren’t paying attention.

‘How do we get any service? The first proper shop in the town for ages and there are no staff!’

Astrid turned round. Zoe had been there only seconds before. But not now. ‘Can I help?’ she asked.

‘Ah! Good! Glad to see there’s someone here. M’wife wants a snoop around, don’t you, m’dear?’

Behind the counter, Zoe’s desire to giggle increased.

She could hear Lord and Lady Gainsborough wandering round the shop, picking things up, making faintly disgusted noises and moving on. ‘What in merry hell is this! Look like dried brains!’

Those must be the fantastically expensive dried wild mushrooms, thought Zoe.

‘And baked beans? In a shop like this? What’s that fancy label for? Where are the ones we always have? Perfectly good.’

Hmm, thought Zoe. Was the whole town full of people not prepared to pay over the odds for the special beans from America made from a traditional recipe involving black molasses?

‘Algy!’ said Lady Gainsborough. ‘They’ve got that vile fish paste you like!’

That will be the Gentleman’s Relish, thought Zoe, who was now developing cramp in her legs.

‘Thank God there’s something edible.’

Zoe wished they’d hurry up and decide whether they
wanted
to buy something or not before she fell over. She also wished she’d just served them.

While she heard Rupert’s father stride over to the fridge she decided that wanting no contact from Gideon had made her paranoid. He’d hardly have applied to Lord and Lady Gainsborough for details of her whereabouts. She sat down. She could hardly pop up from behind the counter now.

‘Gold!’ Rupert’s father boomed. ‘I’ve found gold!’

Rupert’s mother rushed over. ‘What in God’s name have you found that’s made you so excited?’

‘Bread pudding!’ declared Lord Gainsborough. ‘I never thought I’d eat it again!’

Astrid laughed when Zoe appeared from behind the counter once she knew the coast was clear, stretching and rubbing her legs. ‘That’s where you were! Gotta love those wrinklies. They bought all the bread pudding. That’s a tenner in the till with hardly any outlay. Apart from your skill in the kitchen,’ she added hastily.

Zoe just smiled. The thought of the indignation Lord and Lady Gainsborough would have felt at being described as wrinklies was worth the cramp.

ASTRID AND ZOE
had decided that the launch of the deli should be held in the gastro-pub two doors down from them as there just wasn’t room in the shop to entertain everyone. But of course the shop would be open and people would be encouraged to amble down with their special money-saving vouchers in their hands. The very pretty daughter of a friend of Astrid’s had been bribed to stand behind the counter and serve the Pimm’s-fuelled punters as they arrived.

Astrid and Zoe took a last look round the room at the pub. The trays of canapés were set out along with pitchers of Pimm’s and wine, beer and soft drinks.

‘The trouble is,’ said Astrid, obviously not quite happy with the arrangement even though they had no choice, ‘it doesn’t look like us. It could be any old do down the pub.’

‘It’s a posh pub,’ said Zoe. ‘But I see what you mean. We’re launching the shop and the shop is sort of absent from the party.’

‘Those catering trays with the canapés don’t help,’ said Astrid.

‘I know! I’ll go and get those old plates from the shop, they’re huge. We’ll put the food on them. It’ll make it much more Mediterranean and special.’

‘But they’re on that high shelf,’ Astrid objected. ‘And Tilly won’t be there for another half an hour.’

‘But I don’t mind ladders. I put them up there, I can get ’em down.’

Zoe had it all planned. She placed the ladder so she could pass the plates down into a basket that she had hung on it, and not have to climb down the ladder with precious china in her hands. Astrid had insisted she put her mobile in her bra so she could call for help if she got into difficulties. Only the imminent arrival of her guests stopped her going with Zoe to make sure nothing bad happened.

Zoe had carefully laid two platters in the basket and was reaching for the third, a little further away, when she heard a familiar voice call her name from the door.

Panic made her move up instead of down and she found herself off the ladder, standing on a lower shelf and clinging to the top one. ‘I don’t want to see you, Gideon!’ she said. She was hardly able to speak her mouth was so dry.

He heard him chuckle below her. ‘I don’t think you have much choice.’

Zoe shut her eyes, thinking it was safer if she couldn’t see him. Part of her had wondered, just for a second, if he had been conjured up by her fraught imagination. She’d been thinking of him just as she reached for the second plate, a thought prompted by the olive oil can she now knew
had
been imported by his firm.

She heard him move so he could face her but she kept her eyes tightly closed.

‘Zoe, please listen to me. Let me explain. I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for weeks. No one would tell me where you were.’

‘Good.’ At least her friends and family had done what she’d asked. ‘So how did you find me then?’ While she couldn’t see him she felt safe to ask him questions.

‘I was staying with friends. He’s a food writer and got the press release. I saw the croquembouche on it and knew it had to be you. I rushed straight down here.’

Her eyes still shut, she sighed deeply. How romantic it would have been if they actually had a chance of a relationship. What did he think he could achieve by coming to see her now? He was married! It strengthened her resolve to be firm.

‘Zoe, could you come down from there? It’s hard to talk to your back and your white knuckles.’

‘You can’t see my white knuckles! And anyway, they’re not. I don’t mind heights at all.’ She didn’t mind heights but she was getting a bit stressed by having to cling on to a couple of shelves while she dealt with Gideon. It would have helped if part of her hadn’t been secretly pleased he was here. She knew she shouldn’t be, but her stomach was fluttering with excitement and confusion. Her heart and her body were determined to betray her.

‘Please?’

That sounded quite polite for someone more used to giving orders than asking permission or making requests.

‘No.’ She longed to say yes, longed to get down from her lofty situation – the high ground in every way – but she had to be strong.

She couldn’t see him but she heard him sigh. ‘I’m sorry to be domineering, but I think I need to take control.’

Zoe suddenly felt herself clutched around her knees and pulled backwards. She clung on to the shelves for balance and he turned round so he was facing her. The next second she was hanging over his shoulder.

‘Gideon!’ she said as firmly as she could. ‘Put me down!’ She tried not to sound hysterical but her breathing was restricted. She just hoped no one chose to come in at that
moment
. It was so undignified. And how dare he manhandle her like this?

‘What’s going on?’

Zoe spotted Astrid’s gold-spangled FitFlops. ‘Help! I’m being kidnapped.’

‘Yes but, darling, have you seen who by?’ She sounded like a bad impression of Leslie Phillips. Why wasn’t she helping her out here? Gideon had obviously had time to get her on his side.

‘Yes! Gideon! Put me down! We have a party to organise. I’m working!’

‘I’m giving you the day off,’ said Astrid, the traitor.

‘Has he bribed you?’ demanded Zoe. ‘How will you cope? It’s ridiculous!’

No one paid any attention to her. She found herself being carried out of the shop into the street. She was already red in the face so she couldn’t blush any more. She’d given up struggling. It would only make her look even more ridiculous.

Fortunately, Gideon’s car was parked right outside. She heard him unlock the door with his fob. Then he tipped her on to the back seat. She sat herself upright.

‘Do up your seatbelt,’ he said. ‘Please.’

Zoe sighed deeply. The car smelt wonderfully familiar. She did up her belt.

‘Where are you taking me?’ she said crossly.

‘Somewhere we can talk.’

She sighed again and settled back into the worn leather. What could he possibly have to say to her that would make it all better?

She thought about asking him to stop so she could sit in front next to him; she felt a bit weird on her own in the back. But then she decided that being near him was not
a
good idea. If she got too close she might not be able to resist if he tried to seduce her again. She mustn’t give in. She’d taken some small steps towards getting over him. If she tumbled into his arms at the first opportunity she’d be worse off than before. But what if he’d come to tell her he was sorry, he’d enjoyed their time together but it was over and he hoped she didn’t feel bad about it? It would be gentlemanly of him to come and tell her in person but she wished he hadn’t.

After about fifteen minutes of silent driving, Gideon pulled into a clearing by the side of a wood. There was a ford and a seat visible a little way up the track. The trees came down almost to the water and a patch of sunlight tinged the area with gold. It looked impossibly romantic. How ironic, thought Zoe.

‘Here we are.’ He opened her door and let her out of the car.

Zoe’s resolve to be strong wavered and then strengthened. In the silence of the car she had decided the best way to handle the situation was to keep it light. She wouldn’t let him know the effect he had on her, or how much he’d hurt her.

‘This is where you produce a bottle of champagne or a picnic basket full of starched napery and quails’ eggs,’ she said, aiming for flippantly but not quite making it.

He shook his head. ‘Sorry. I haven’t got anything up my sleeve or in the boot. I didn’t know if I was going to see you and when I saw the flier, well …’ He paused and smiled. ‘I flew.’ He seemed nervous all of a sudden, as if unsure of himself or her. Zoe was gratified to see this at least.

Then his familiar quirky smile sent her stomach into free fall and her emotions into the sky. The combination
made
her feel slightly sick and weak at the knees with longing and confusion.

‘Let’s walk,’ he suggested. ‘I like your dress,’ he added.

The compliment threw her rather. She was wearing a simple scoop-necked sleeveless number designed to look good under a pinny. It wasn’t anything special. She suspected him of trying to make up to her. ‘Do you?’

‘Yes!’ He held a hand out to her which she studiously ignored, shrugged and then said, ‘Come on.’

‘I can’t go far. These shoes aren’t suitable for mud.’ She sounded like a petulant child, but that’s how she felt. She had a deli to help launch. She didn’t have time for walks in the woods.

‘The path is good and we’ll stop when we get to the seat. I’ve got so much to tell you.’

‘I should be helping Astrid. There’s a lot still to do. I can’t just run off.’

‘I’m sure Astrid will cope and you didn’t run – you were carried.’