The Bake Off (3 page)

‘Hmmm,
very interesting,’ he said in a louder voice as he walked away from her.

Comments
of dismay and frustration were coming from all over the room as the contestants were removing their pastry sheets from the oven. Nicola heard snippets from the two ladies at the front, ‘I’m not sure what I’m doing’ and ‘But if I do that it’ll crack’ and ‘Maybe it’s too brown’. Thomas groaned loudly that his first encounter with puff pastry had been an absolute disaster.

The
cameras were set to roll again and David called out, ‘BAKERS, YOU HAVE FIFTEEN MINUTES TO DECORATE.’

Nicola
found a rectangular, white serving plate for her millefeuille and began to build up the finished dessert. If the strawberry sorbet worked like she hoped it would, it would look sensational, she thought, carefully placing the base piece of pastry down towards the end of the plate. Carefully, she stood her layer of small, glazed whole strawberries, one by one, onto the pastry with their ends uppermost. Separately, she piped custard onto another pastry piece and then gently sandwiched another pastry piece on top. Then painstakingly, and whispering a little prayer to herself, she placed the sandwich onto the top of the strawberries. She took a deep gratifying sigh as the layers and strawberries were stable enough to stand firm, and then lightly scattered icing sugar on the top. Finally, she placed three caramelised whole almonds with the nibs all pointing downwards in a row onto the pastry and stood back wiping her hands on a tea towel. To complete her plate decoration she scooped an egg-shaped dollop of smooth, strawberry sorbet and placed it on the opposite end of the plate, then wiped the plate clean from scattered icing sugar.

David
now shouted, ‘TIME IS UP, BAKERS – STEP AWAY FROM YOUR MILLEFEUILLE.’

When
her name was called, she walked slowly, with trembling legs and carrying the dessert, to the front table and placed the plate behind her photograph, which was facing the room and away from David, who would do the blind tasting.

Simon
came to join her and they stood like scared school children waiting and looking at the other millefeuilles being taken to the table. The crew arranged their stools in a line in front of the table and they all took their places.

Unable
to see which dessert belonged to which contestant David started at one end and worked his way through them all tasting as he went and making comments.

Gemma’s
was first and he commented upon the intricate four layers of pastry, custard and strawberry preserve which were traditionally well done, and after swallowing a mouthful, he proclaimed the texture and flaky taste of the pastry was excellent. Nicola looked along the row at Gemma and saw her lift her shoulders in pride and smile ever so sweetly into the camera.

The
next two desserts from the ladies at the front were, in David’s opinion, not up to the standard required to go further in the bake off as the pastry texture was too tough and chewy and it was obvious they hadn’t followed his regime of resting time in the fridge. Thomas’s millefeuille actually collapsed in the centre while David stood examining it but he did comment that it had one of the better flavour profiles. And then after shaking his head he moved swiftly onto Simon’s dessert.

‘This
is a very good effort and my only criticism is that the custard is a little thin and as you can see everyone,’ – he pointed to the middle layer in a close-up shot – ‘It’s starting to ooze out of the layers – it needs a little more gelatine next time.’

Nicola
held her breath and closed her eyes for a few seconds while David looked at her serving plate and grinned into the lens of the camera. He’d deliberately left hers until last and she prayed it wasn’t because there was something wrong with it

He
stood back from the table and folded his arms. ‘At the beginning of this bake off I asked the contestants to be creative and show me something different. And out of all the eight desserts this is the only baker who has tried to give the millefeuille a unique appearance. It looks absolutely fabulous! The simple two layers of whole strawberries and vanilla custard with almonds on top give it a clean uncluttered appearance and the serving of sorbet on the side looks exquisite.’

He
leaned forward and inhaled deeply, then took a fork and broke into the dessert – sighing with pleasure as he rolled it around his mouth. ‘The strawberry aroma from the sorbet is delightful. The pastry is a perfect crisp flake with a delicious light taste, and the custard has just the correct amount of vanilla flavouring,’ he said then popped a whole strawberry and almond into his mouth. ‘Oh my God, the combination of all three together is simply divine.’

Everyone
in the group looked at her and she could feel her face blushing with pride and happiness. She nipped the side of her leg to make sure she wasn’t dreaming because she couldn’t believe what he’d just said, and then murmured her thanks. Simon gently patted her arm in congratulations.

David
grinned into the camera. ‘I can now place the millefeuille in order,’ he said. Then he explained who was last and worked his way up to the top three. Simon came third, while Gemma was a close second. ‘But without a shadow of doubt,’ he said. ‘Our
star
baker
from this round is Nicola Simpson.’

Everyone
clapped and congratulated her, gathering around her as she sat on the stool. Simon put his arm along her shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze and then stood back as David approached.

‘That
millefeuille is sensational,’ he said. ‘And I can honestly say it would grace any top-class French patisserie. Well done and congratulations…’

***

Her head was spinning with success and pride as she drove home to Gosforth and pulled up outside the large terrace house. Grinning like a fool at her elderly and grumpy next-door neighbour she bounced into the hall and then ran up the old staircase to the bathroom. As she stripped off her jeans and T-shirt and stood in front of the full length mirror, she remembered how David had placed one of his lovely hands over hers.

In
her black lace bra and size fourteen panties, she groaned out loud, and then spun around to look at what she thought of as her humongous bottom – she hated it with a vengeance. It was the one part of her body that always made her miserable but, she reasoned, could it really be that bad if David was flirting and coming on to her? He must have been looking at her bottom all day in her jeans and was still interested enough to ask if she was married – so maybe he was like her ex-husband and really did like big-bottomed girls?

Whooping
and giggling she stood under the shower roaming her hands over her body in the soapy shower gel and hot water. Christ, she thought, it felt like forever since she’d been so turned on and excited by a man – and what a man! He was funny and cute and sexy, but suave all at the same time, and when he touched her skin she’d felt goose-bumps all over.

***

‘And, the greatest thing about it all,’ she said to her friend Susan, ‘is that I get to do it all again next week!’

They
were sitting at her kitchen table drinking wine while Nicola told her all about the bake off, and how, along with herself, Simon, Gemma, Thomas and another older lady had gone through to the semi-finals.

Her
description of Gemma made Susan laugh and she told her how Gemma’s millefeuille had come a very close second to hers. ‘She’s definitely the one I have to beat, in more ways than one, because David seems to like her too,’ she said grimacing.

Susan
nodded kindly in support and then Nicola described David and how he’d made her feel.

‘I
like him already,’ Susan said smiling affectionately. ‘If he can put a buzz in your step like this then he must be okay. It’ll be so exciting to see you on TV. I can’t remember the last time I saw you look so happy.’

‘I
know,’ Nicola giggled. ‘But next week I must look my best. I’m going to have something done with this unruly mop I call my hair,’ she said. ‘And I might pop into the beauty salon to see if they can do something clever with make-up to hide the size of my big nose…’

‘Now
you’re just being silly. There’s nothing wrong with your nose and once he looks into those huge brown eyes of yours and you give him a big smile he’ll be won over in seconds – he won’t be able to resist you.’

Nicola
sipped her wine. ‘You’re bound to say that,’ she said leaning across to stroke Susan’s chubby arm. ‘You’re my friend and always see the best of me, but others are not so kind. And when I think of myself up against the likes of young Gemma, well…’

Avoiding Susan’s eye she looked at her new, shiny red kitchen cabinets. But she was, in fact, remembering the pain and hurt the first time she’d seen a photograph of her ex-husband with his young partner. Suddenly, she felt her mood deflate – who was she trying to kid? she moaned silently – she couldn’t compete against a twenty-four-year-old.

Susan
poured more wine into Nicola’s glass. ‘Sweetheart, we’ve been through this so many times – you have to let it go,’ she soothed.

‘I
know. It’s just so hard starting again when you’ve been dumped for a girl nearly half your age. If only she’d been a woman my own age it wouldn’t have hurt so much.’ She looked at Susan’s warm hazel eyes, remembering how after he’d first left she’d sat crying on her friend’s shoulder with her big arms holding her tight – her support had been unforgettable.

‘He
was a complete tosspot,’ Susan stated firmly. ‘And any decent man wouldn’t even look at girls that age, let alone fancy one.’ She put a finger under Nicola’s chin and cocked her head to one side. ‘Come on. If you let those memories mar the rest of your life then he’s won – hasn’t he?’

Susan was right, she decided. All she needed was to rebuild her confidence, and even if she couldn’t beat Gemma with her age and looks, she knew she could beat her with her baking skills. The proof, she thought smiling, would be in the pudding. Grinning at her own pun she said, ‘You’re right. All I need is to experiment again with a new man and who better to practise with than David Chambers.’

Semi-Finals
of The Bake Off

On the morning of the semi-finals Nicola could hardly contain herself with excitement. She’d treated herself to a spray tan two days earlier and had her mop of curls straightened into a long sleek bob.

Jay
had arrived home on a fleeting overnight visit and had proclaimed that he hardly recognised her. ‘But, Mum, you’re bound to win with your chocolate torte – it’s the best! And I’ve told all my mates that you’re the greatest cook – we can’t wait to watch you on TV,’ he raved.

‘Let’s
see what happens,’ she cautioned. ‘There are some very good bakers in the competition and it’s not easy baking under the glare of the camera.’

He
sighed. ‘Look, you’ll be fine – and I’ll cook you another great breakfast to get you pumped up and buzzing.’

She
remembered the indigestion from the previous week, and not wanting to dampen his spirits she smiled but declined. ‘A nice poached egg on toast will be lovely.’

When
Jay had left for the train and with his pep talk still ringing in her ears she hurried upstairs to dress. She had what she hoped was an answer to her big bottom problem – a pair of body-shaping Spanx. The information on the box told her the shapers would lift the cheeks of her bottom with a firming effect – she figured she needed all the help she could get. She slid her feet into the pants, took a deep breath, and pulled them firmly up her legs and thighs to her waist. Letting her breath back out slowly she realised they were so tight she could hardly breathe. But once she’d zipped up the white knee-length skirt and turned around in front of the mirror she could see they did make a difference to the shape of her bottom and grinned with delight. Hmm, she mused thoughtfully, not the most comfortable thing she’d ever worn. But, as her mother would say, pride is painful, and if it helped her feel better in front of the camera, and David, it would be well worth it.

***

While she found a space in the car park Nicola remembered David’s words about the semi-finals and how it was meant to test the bakers' personality, creativity and baking skills. The main challenge, he’d told them, would be to produce something altogether home-made in their signature dish which showed off their tried-and-tested recipe. Therefore, after a whole day of deliberation she’d entered the ingredient list for her warm chocolate tart with salted caramel sauce – not only was it Jay’s favourite but it was a recipe she felt confident would be successful and hopefully impress David.

She
picked up her handbag and opened the door to climb out, but found she couldn’t open her legs in the tight skirt and Spanx knickers. Not wanting to rip the skirt she rustled it up to her thighs and then taking a deep breath attempted a log roll action to get out of the car, which meant she ended up on her knees on the pavement. She gripped hold of the car door to pull herself upright and then in a shadow on the pavement she saw a pair of black leather shoes.

She
heard a voice way above her head. ‘Nicola, are you okay?’

Cursing
under her breath that someone had found her in such a ridiculous situation she looked up to see Simon’s concerned face.

‘Have
you fallen?’ he asked putting a strong arm around her shoulders and helping her clamber to her feet.

She
breathed a sigh of relief and thanked God that it had been Simon and not David who had passed by just at the wrong moment.

‘Oh,
yes. I just lost my footing for a second,’ she said brushing her fringe from her eyes. She felt like an idiot, then realising her skirt was still up around her thighs she hurriedly smoothed it down and saw a smile twitch at the corner of Simon’s wide mouth. He was laughing at her, she thought, but thinking about the calamity she’d got herself into she really couldn’t blame him.

She
raised her eyebrows and shrugged her shoulders in a hapless manner then began to giggle, ‘Well, that’s a great start to the day, isn’t it?’

Simon
threw back his head and roared with laughter. ‘Come, on. Let’s get inside and have a coffee.’

***

In the ladies’ toilets she rechecked her appearance and decided there hadn’t been too much damage to her new sleek and trendy look. The darker foundation make-up she’d applied to her nose was still reflecting the light as it was meant to, and turning to look in the mirror she couldn’t see any creases in her skirt. She sprayed more hairspray onto her hair and smoothed the silky style into place hoping it didn’t look too tacky – then made her way back into the hospitality room.

***

Gratefully, she took the Styrofoam cup from Simon and sipped the coffee. ‘Phew, I certainly need this after throwing myself around in the car park.’

‘You’ll
be fine,’ he reassured her. ‘At least we’re not on edge this week wondering what we’ll have to bake – they’re our own recipes and your chocolate torte sounds great.’

She
nodded. ‘Yeah, it’s something I usually make for family gatherings and special occasions. So I figured it should work well…’

Simon
stirred sugar into his coffee. ‘It sounds lovely. I’m making a good old traditional lemon meringue pie. It’s the one recipe I know I can make with my eyes shut because I’ve done it so many times before,’ he said. ‘Come on, let’s sit down. We could be hanging around for ages yet.’

Nicola
was in a quandary. She knew it made sense to sit down but she wasn’t sure she’d manage to get down on the settee in the Spanx knickers, and she wanted to look slim and sophisticated when she saw David again. ‘Hmm, you know what, Simon,’ she said. ‘My back is aching a little after the acrobatics. I’ll think I‘ll just stay here for now.’

Her
stomach bubbled happily with anticipation at the thought of seeing David’s handsome face again and she wondered what he would be wearing.

‘Hiya,’
Gemma cried joyfully as she made her way towards them both.

She
was dressed in denim shorts showing off her long tanned legs and a pale blue, halter-neck top. Nicola noticed enviously that she wasn’t wearing a bra. It was obvious, she thought clenching her teeth, that Gemma’s ample and pert breasts didn’t require any type of assistance to stand up proudly on her chest.

Simon
stared at Gemma’s legs – and asked playfully, ‘Hmm, I see we’re dressed for the beach today.’

A
flicker of uncertainty clouded Gemma’s face. ‘I thought because it was so hot in the kitchen last week and as the sun is shining already today I’d try to keep as cool as possible.’ She turned to face Nicola, and smiling sweetly asked, ‘Do you think the shorts are too much, Nicola? I mean – is it not appropriate for the TV cameras?’

Nicola
was having trouble averting her eyes from Gemma’s pointy nipples that seemed to be poking through the thin clingy material and tormenting her. ‘Hey, when are shorts ever too much?’ she quipped. ‘But I’m sure the director will let you know if it’s not quite right.’

Gemma
relaxed her shoulders and grinned at Nicola, showing her flawless straight teeth. ‘Thanks, Nicola. I knew you’d be kind enough to keep me right.’

Gemma
had what American’s call a Californian smile and Nicola knew the girl was desperately trying to be friendly. But she actually had a pain in her jaw with clenching her teeth in an effort to hold back the torrent of jealousy that raged through her.

Simon
shuffled his feet awkwardly. ‘And of course, when you have your long apron on it’ll cover your legs and umm,’ – Simon wafted his hand towards her chest – ‘your whatever.’

‘Morning,
all,’ David called, as he popped his head round the door from the kitchen.

Nicola
could see his eyes open and stare in awe at Gemma. His whole face lit up as he strode into the room hurrying towards her at the same time that Thomas shuffled into the group behind Simon.

Gemma
smiled like a princess when David took her hand and kissed the side of her cheek.

‘Morning,
David,’ she said. ‘It’s another beautiful sunny day.’

While
they all discussed the weather and the men eyed Gemma’s legs and chest Nicola stared down at her shoes and wanted to crawl into a hole. The impression she’d hoped to make in her pink T-shirt and plain white skirt seemed pathetic now and she wondered if there was time to nip into the toilets and remove the Spanx – which she now felt were practically cutting off her circulation.

Suddenly,
the director called them through into the kitchen and they began to walk towards the door in a line behind Gemma’s long legs and perfect small, round bottom.

***

‘Have a seat on your stools first,’ David instructed when they’d grouped together in the doorway. The older lady sat on one end with Thomas at the other end, then Gemma, Simon and herself in the middle.

Nicola
slid up onto the stool as gracefully as she possibly could but then stared down in alarm at the small roll of flab appearing at her midriff above the waistband of her skirt. The Spanx, although controlling the flab around her bottom, had only succeeded in creating this second roll which no matter how hard she tried to inhale wouldn’t disappear.

‘Here we are in the semi-finals and I hope you are all ready to bake your own signature dishes to show me,’ David said cheerfully.

Nicola
had to release the breath she was holding to answer along with everyone else that they were indeed ready.

David,
dressed this time in navy-blue pleated trousers and a pale blue shirt, walked around the table. ‘We’ll use the same plan for today as last week,’ he said stopping in front of Nicola. ‘And I’m dying to see what our librarian bakes for us after last week’s stunning millefeuille.’

Nicola
felt quite breathless and gazed into his eyes, folding her arms across her chest in an effort to conceal the roll of flab. ‘I do have a little something that is totally different to last week.’

David
chortled. ‘I can see that already,’ he smirked, playfully flicking the side of her hair. ‘I’m loving the smooth, sleek look with your hair.’

He
shook himself and carried along the line towards Thomas. ‘And let’s see if we can keep those big hands of yours a little cooler this week, eh?’

Thomas
laughed good-humouredly along with everyone and Nicola smoothed her moist palms down the white skirt – he
had
noticed her after all, she thought dreamily, and all the extra effort had been worthwhile. She secretly hugged herself with delight at his comments and decided he probably appreciated her more subtle appearance rather than Gemma’s brazen look.

While
David was chatting to the director, Simon leaned towards her and said, ‘I liked it the way it was.’

‘What?’
she whispered raising her eyebrow.

He
smiled affectionately. ‘Your hair – I liked it the way it was…’

The
director clapped his hands together loudly and instructed them to take their places at the same benches as last week.

Nicola scrambled down from the stool and followed by Simon they stood waiting for the camera call to say they were ready to film. She glanced around the equipment and the small tray of ingredients checking that everything she had requested was there.

‘OKAY,
BAKERS,’ David shouted smiling into the camera. ‘Everything you need should be in front of you for your signature recipes so all that’s left for me to say is – YOU HAVE TWO HOURS – NOW BAKE!’

Nicola’s
chocolate torte took an hour to bake on a low heat, so she immediately began to weigh out the caster sugar, unsalted butter, plain flour and pinch of sea salt. She placed the eggs carefully onto a plastic tray while collecting the tart tin, which she buttered, dusted with cocoa and then lined with baking parchment.

The
director told them that David was about to walk around and talk to them individually and she saw him head towards Simon first with the camera. While she was watching she realised for the first time that day that Simon too had spruced up his appearance from last week. The old corduroy trousers had been replaced with smart black trousers and a white shirt, his brown hair had been neatly trimmed and although David looked around five-foot-ten Simon towered above him, being at least six-foot-two.

While David discussed his lemon meringue pie, Simon, she noted, looked much more confident than last week and agreed pleasantly that the shortcrust pastry he was making for the base of the pie was considerably easier than the puff pastry in the millefeuille.

As
David moved on to talk to Thomas she relaxed and happily hummed a tune to herself while she prepared the remainder of the ingredients. It was different baking here than at home but she was quickly getting used to the area, equipment and ovens. She did, however, think longingly of her own new kitchen she’d had installed last year – it had taken a large amount of the money from the divorce settlement. But its sleek, smooth lines, with an eye-level double oven and a shiny red island based in the centre were worth every penny. It had been her dream kitchen that she’d always wished for and she’d laughingly told Susan that she was now happier with her new kitchen than she had ever been with her ex-husband.