Recipe for Love (7 page)

‘Glad to hear it. It’s a cookery competition.’

He shook his head gently. ‘That’s not really funny, you know.’

‘I know. But I am taking the competition seriously. And if I don’t win because I don’t flirt with the judges, that’s OK. I want to win on my own merits.’

He looked at her steadily and said, ‘I don’t know much about your merits – yet – but you’re not doing a bad job at flirting with the judges.’

Zoe was horrified. ‘You don’t think I was flirting, do you? I was just joking around!’

‘Then that’s all right then. I absolve you of flirting.’

Although, she thought, perhaps she had flirted a little bit? Gideon had that effect on her and secretly she’d rather enjoyed it. He was much less formidable in the cosy Somerby kitchen. But she had to be careful.

‘Good! I want to win this fair and square.’

‘That’s very admirable.’ He paused. ‘So why do you want to win?’

She was quite glad they were on safer ground.

She considered. ‘I want to win because I love food and I love cooking. I gave up a job I’d had for a while and I really want the prize.’ She sent him a rueful look. ‘I’m not totally focused on money or anything, but I want to set up a deli. The cash would help.’

‘Fair enough.’

He was looking at her rather too intently so she decided to ask him a question. ‘So what about you? Do you have any long-held ambitions? Or are you a complete success?’

He laughed. ‘Far from it! And yes, I do have long-held ambitions.’

‘Which are?’

‘I feel like a Miss World contestant when I say this but I really want to do something to help education about
food
. Jamie Oliver has done so much but I’d like to join that fight.’ He was stirring the remains of his cocoa as he spoke, a look of concentration on his face. It was clearly something he felt passionate about.

‘So why don’t you? It’s nothing to be ashamed of, after all.’

‘I haven’t really found the right platform. It needs to be big, but I’ll do it. One day.’

‘I think that’s a terrific ambition. Much better than just wanting to open a deli.’ Zoe was rather pleased he had ideals. It made her like him even more.

‘We can’t all change the world and good delis are wonderful.’

Zoe nodded. ‘Don’t start me on them. I have so many ideas …’ Suddenly she yawned.

‘Hey, you’d better go to bed. You need to sleep. You’ve got a competition to win.’

‘I suddenly feel terribly guilty.’

‘Why?’ Gideon was bemused.

‘Telling you my ambitions. It might make you favour me.’

He laughed. ‘I promise you, I’m incorruptible. You’ll probably get your deli one day even if you don’t win.’

‘Maybe. Anyway …’ She hesitated, reluctant to leave although she knew she should.

‘I think if you’re really determined, you will get what you want.’ He seemed to think her hesitation was lack of self-belief.

‘Perhaps you’re right.’ She felt strangely free to say what she thought with Gideon: she felt more comfortable with him than she usually did with men nearer her own age with more similar backgrounds. There was something about the kitchen too that invited intimacy.

Maybe he felt the same because instead of going back
upstairs
(surely people would be wondering what had happened to him?) he said, ‘So what’s it like, staying on the premises?’

‘It’s only been one night but Fen and Rupert are very hospitable. It’s why I cleared up for them – they’ve been so lovely to me.’

‘I might blag myself a bed here then.’

‘Why? Isn’t your hotel comfortable?’

‘I’m sure it is. I’m just allergic to them. I spend too much time away and would much rather stay in someone’s house.’

Zoe thought of Fenella, who already had far too much to do. ‘Well, I don’t think you should.’

He was surprised. ‘Why on earth not?’

‘It’s nothing to do with me, of course, but Fen’s pregnant. You staying here would make much more work for her.’

‘Would it?’

‘Of course! She’d have to make proper breakfast, make sure your room was tidy – all sorts of things she probably could do without.’

He studied her more closely. ‘You’re very protective of her.’

‘No – well, maybe I am. But I feel sorry for her having all these people around her when she’s just about to pop.’

He considered. ‘OK, if I promise not to demand – or even accept – any special attention, even breakfast, clean up after myself and don’t come in late and drunk, can I ask if there’s a spare bed they could put me into? The television company would be paying them, after all.’

Zoe made a face. ‘Of course, it’s none of my business—’

‘None at all.’

‘But if you stick to those terms and conditions—’

‘Ooh, formal,’ he teased.

‘You can ask if you can stay.’

Gideon got up and took Zoe’s empty mug. ‘I’ll say I have permission from their tame Rottweiler.’

‘Oh please don’t.’ Zoe was suddenly serious. ‘They’d be mortified, if not seriously annoyed. I don’t want that.’

‘OK, it’ll stay our secret.’

Zoe got up and collected the milk. Gideon strode towards her. ‘Goodnight.’ He looked as if he might kiss her cheek, as he would if they had met socially, in the normal way.

Zoe looked up at him and tried to think of something smart to say to end the conversation but nothing came to her, so, clutching the milk, she turned and left.

Much to her relief, Cher was asleep when she got back. She didn’t have to endure questions as to whether she’d had to milk the cow because it had taken her so long to get back with it. By morning she’d have thought up a good excuse. Cher was a very suspicious character. It was like living with the Spanish Inquisition even if you hadn’t done anything wrong. After all, there was nothing in the rules to say she couldn’t share hot chocolate with one of the judges. Or was there?

‘THERE’S NO YOGHURT
, no berries and no bread,’ said Cher, staring into the fridge the next morning.

‘Oh,’ said Zoe, not knowing what other comment she could make. ‘I could go and get some bread, I suppose.’

‘Considering you were so long getting the milk last night you could have knocked up a loaf.’

Zoe sighed. Cher had a point. None of her excuses for being so long with the milk had seemed to wash with her, which was hardly surprising, really.

‘So as you know the way,’ said Cher, ‘you’d better trot along and pick some up.’

Once again stifling an angry retort, Zoe left the cowshed abruptly. Honestly, she was appalling! The cottage felt cramped with Cher’s personality all over it and Zoe was glad to leave it – and she felt drawn to Somerby, for all sorts of reasons. She crossed the courtyard and let herself into the kitchen by the back door.

Fenella was already there. She had her own questions. ‘You tidied the kitchen last night, didn’t you?’

‘Sorry, I just—’

‘Oh, for goodness sake!’ Fenella came over and put her arms round Zoe. ‘I wasn’t telling you off! I just couldn’t face it and nor could Rupes. He said he’d do it this morning but I came down early.’ She rubbed the side of her stomach. ‘I’m not sleeping that well, and it was like the elves had been in the night! It was all gleaming.’

‘Well, I felt so sorry for you. You’ve got so much on as well as being pregnant.’

‘You’re a sweetheart. I really hope you win.’ Fenella opened a large bread bin and took out a loaf. ‘Is this what you came for? The others get their bread and milk delivered by the cleaners but as you’re so near the house, I’m supposed to do it,’ Fenella explained apologetically. ‘But since I’ve got so huge I don’t seem to get round to it.’

‘I don’t mind collecting it and it looks lovely.’

‘We have a super bakery. Our guests just love their bread.’

Zoe thought of another guest they might have and nearly warned Fenella so she could have an excuse ready if she needed to. Then she realised she mustn’t say anything or Fenella would wonder how on earth she knew about Gideon wanting to move out of his hotel.

They chatted for a few moments about this and that when Fenella said, ‘I was just wondering about one thing though. Did you have hot chocolate before you went back with the milk?’

Zoe thought quickly. ‘Yes – yes I did. I hope that’s all right?’

‘Of course it’s all right! Whatever you like! Goodness, if the elves come in the night, you don’t grudge them a bit of drinking chocolate.’

‘That’s OK then. I’d better take this bread before Cher starts eating her own arm. Not that there’s a lot there to eat.’

Fenella chuckled. ‘She’ll never balloon up to a size ten, will she?’

Zoe shook her head. ‘Nope.’ She picked up the loaf. ‘Bye!’

‘Bye then!’ called Fenella. ‘And you don’t need to tell me why there were two mugs on the drainer.’

Quite obviously Fenella wanted her to tell her very much but Zoe just shrugged. ‘Elves! You know what they’re like!’ And she whisked away before Fenella could ask any more questions.

But she liked the fact that Gideon had washed the mugs. Maybe he’d stick to his promise to be no trouble to Fenella.

‘OK! Guys!’ Mike called everyone to order.

They were in the marquee and a cold May wind was making the sides billow slightly. The weather had gone back to being changeable.

‘Today’s task!’ He had to raise his voice to make himself heard and to get everyone’s attention. ‘It’s going to be done over two days and is about using really local produce.’

Cher turned round to look for the cameras and found there weren’t any, or rather the cameras were all switched off at this point. The others focused on Mike. They were more united now they’d got the initial task out of the way.

‘The first bit is sourcing your produce,’ Mike explained, referring to a sheet of paper. ‘You’ll have a list of local suppliers, some money, and you’ll be put in groups to be driven to them. This is to make sure you really do stay in the very local area. If you have a car, can you hand in your car keys? To make sure there’s no cheating.’

‘And then what?’ asked Bill. ‘What are we to do with our local ingredients?’

‘Working on your own, you’re to produce a really good three-course meal. The budget is generous so you don’t need to watch the cost but you are a bit limited by it needing to be local.’

‘What about things like olive oil?’ asked Shadrach, the fanatical cook, sounding panicked. Daniel nodded in agreement. ‘Salt and pepper?’

‘I was coming to that,’ said Mike. ‘There is a list of exceptions to the local rule. Oil and salt and pepper are on it. I’m going to hand out a list of suppliers now and the rules about what counts as local that you can refer to. You’ve got an hour to think about what you want to cook, then the cars will come to drive you to where you want to go. It would be a good idea if you could get into carloads – about four people – so we can co-ordinate where we’re going. You’ll be filmed at the various suppliers. Oh, and you’ll be given your packs before you get in the cars.’

Zoe felt excited. The challenge was right up her street really. ‘I think that sounds fun,’ she said to Cher, who happened to be nearby.

‘What? Local food? Exciting? I don’t think so. What round here is going to be half decent? A few carrots and a bit of old cow.’

Zoe looked around anxiously in case anyone remotely local had heard this insult and was offended. She walked slowly back to the room, reading the list of suppliers as she went. Her problem would be choosing what ingredients to go for, there was so much available. She was slightly surprised that Cher didn’t follow her but not unhappy.

An hour later, armed with her requisite notebook and bag, Zoe walked back up to the front of the house. A fleet of taxis was drawn up and Fenella was on the steps with her phone in her hand looking flustered.

‘What’s up?’ asked Zoe.

‘I don’t think they’ve sent enough taxis,’ said Fenella. ‘I do wish the production company had asked us which firms to use.’

‘Well, it’s not your problem, is it?’ said Zoe. There seemed to be plenty of cars to her. People were climbing into them, their packs tucked into their clothing.