Recipe for Love

CHAPTER Ten





WHILE SARAH WAS overseeing arrangements in other parts of the house, Zoe asked Fenella about shot glasses.

‘Oh yes. Loads of them. Certainly enough for the wedding.’

‘Good. I’d better get back and do some cooking then.’ Zoe frowned. ‘I don’t think they provided enough food, you know.’

‘They’ll get more. I hope! I’m not having a wedding at Somerby that’s under catered. And Sarah won’t have it either.’ Fenella had to sit down to recover from this thought and the anxiety of the missing wedding cake.

‘Maybe they did provide enough and people snaffled more than they needed,’ muttered Zoe.

‘Cher! I’m sure it’s her! You should have seen her with Hugo – and Gideon.’ Fenella paused in the way women do when they’re longing to ask another what happened the previous night but don’t quite like to. Zoe could tell she was burning with curiosity.

Zoe, who was trying very hard to function while deeply distracted by a barrage of emotions she couldn’t exactly identify, was tempted to confide. She trusted Fenella and without her best friend Jenny on hand she was the next best thing. ‘Gideon is lovely,’ she said, blushing.

Fenella was indignant. ‘And so he lied to me? He didn’t leave you to sleep, “perfectly chaste” as he said in such a wonderfully old-fashioned way?’

‘Er – no. But to be fair, it was my fault.’ She gave a shuddering sigh as she remembered the night before. ‘I did sort of jump on him.’

‘But he didn’t mind?’ Fenella said, less indignant now.

Zoe giggled. ‘Don’t think so.’ She stopped giggling suddenly. ‘I do know I’m mad. And you don’t need to give me the whole “will he still respect me in the morning” speech. While I do think he’ll respect me and everything, I’m not letting myself get carried away.’ Not in her head, anyway. She couldn’t speak for her heart on this occasion.

‘That’s good,’ said Fenella, blatantly not believing her. ‘But are you sure? He seems very nice but …’

Zoe gave a bright smile. ‘Oh, I’m sure to break my heart a little, but that’s part of the fun, isn’t it? You get those moody moments, a few songs that make you well up a bit, and a concert ticket or something that you keep in a box. But that’s all right!’

‘Have you ever actually had your heart broken?’ asked Fenella. ‘I promise you, it’s not to be taken lightly.’

Zoe considered, thinking that she might well be about to experience it, although a spark of hope that it might be more than just a fling burned steadily inside. ‘Well, no. But I did break someone else’s heart – or at least he said I did. I don’t think it lasted terribly long.’

‘Well, real heartbreak is truly horrible,’ said Fenella. ‘Before Rupert and I got together we had a bit of a blip and I’ve never been through so much torment. Even thinking about it now, when we’re married and so happy, I get remembered pain.’

‘I will try to carry my heart about very carefully.’

‘“Lock it up in a box of golden,” as the folk song says.’ Fenella chewed her lip, obviously considering how to go on. ‘I like Gideon, I really do. I think he’s a nice man …’

‘But?’

‘I’m not sure he’s the settling-down kind. I mean – he’s so dashing and attractive, and you’re a lovely girl. You’re not like him in that way.’

Zoe sighed deeply.

‘I may be quite wrong. I don’t know him all that well.’

‘It’s all right. I know exactly what you mean. You mean you see him with someone more sophisticated, who’s like him.’

Fenella put her hand on Zoe’s. ‘I think I’m trying to say he’s not good enough for you.’

‘Unfortunately, it’s too late for the warning. We have had sex and I fully intend to have it again, as much as I can before it’s all over.’ She heard the defiance in her voice and hoped Fenella didn’t think she was being too brazen.

‘But don’t risk the competition, Zoe. No man is worth that. If anyone, particularly Cher, finds out they’ll tell the world. You’ll have to leave and that would be dreadful. You’re so good at this. And if Gideon is a good man he’ll wait until it’s over.’

Zoe nodded, thinking that when the competition was over she would probably never see Gideon again. She felt a flutter of anxiety. Although she’d breezily told Fenella she was fine with a moment of passion, her heart persisted in saying otherwise.

Fen squeezed Zoe’s hand again. ‘Although it’s not as if we say to ourselves “I will fall in love” or “I won’t fall in love”, it just happens. We have no choice. But please be careful – about everything!’

‘I’m glad you understand. I’ve never fallen in love before,’ Zoe admitted. ‘It’s terrible timing, I know, but … Anyway, you won’t say anything, will you? Not even to Rupert? Well, maybe you can to him but not to anyone else?’

‘Of coure I won’t. But I really don’t want to see you get hurt. Maybe Gideon is Mr Right and will stay with you for ever.’

‘You don’t believe that and nor do I,’ said Zoe.

‘It could be true! Everyone wants to settle down sometime. Look at me and Rupert.’

Zoe sighed. Fenella and Rupert were so perfect together, would she ever be part of a couple like that?

Sarah appeared in the kitchen, panting slightly. ‘I’ve spoken to the other judges and told them about your solution, and they want you to come up so they can film the whole “can the team make the cupcake wedding cake” thing. Apparently it will be brilliant telly. I don’t care about the telly, but I do want a brilliant cake.’

‘It will be, I promise you.’

Sarah wrinkled her brow. ‘I’m sorry to ask, but I’ll have to on camera, and I do want to know, have you made a cupcake wedding cake before?’

‘No, but I have made loads of cupcakes. I used to do them for the café I worked in. Once you’ve got that swirl and know how to make good butter icing, it’s just a matter of displaying them nicely. Isn’t it?’ she added, seeing Sarah was still concerned.

‘Fen, do you have a cupcake stand anywhere about your person?’ Sarah asked.

Fenella smiled. ‘I might have. But not for seventy cupcakes, I don’t think.’

‘Couldn’t we have a huge square box to put lots of them on and then have the cupcake stand on top?’ suggested Zoe. She suddenly felt passionate about her idea. She’d make it work even if it killed her!

Sarah nodded. ‘Fen, I’m sure you’ve got some lovely tulle or something somewhere to drape around the table. Don’t worry, we can do this. But honestly, that bloody cake-maker! I’ll never use her again!’

‘There may have been a good reason …’ Fenella began but then said, ‘Oh, OK, she’s hopeless. Never use her again.’

‘If they want us to go and film, hadn’t we better get on?’ Zoe interrupted

‘Oh, OK,’ Sarah agreed. ‘Let’s do it then.’



Zoe had got used to the couple of cameramen and their cameras who hovered over her when she cooked by now, but she wasn’t quite used to being the centre of attention without a prop in her hand. She felt a bit hot and realised she hadn’t put any make-up on that morning. She muttered about this to Mike.

‘Don’t worry! You look great, Zoe!’ he said. ‘Really glowing. A touch of mascara and you’re good to go.’

Fred was the judge designated to do the interview. At least it wasn’t Gideon. ‘So, Zoe, you were the contestant who found a solution to the drama of the missing wedding cake.’

She laughed in self-deprecation. ‘I just happened to be there when Sarah discovered she didn’t have a cake. Any of us would have made the suggestion, I’m sure.’

The camera panned round the faces of the other contestants. ‘Baking’s not my thing,’ said Bill, the proficient but burly ex-builder.

‘So, Zoe, are you going to make the cupcakes on your own? You do still have to complete the canapé challenge too, you know.’ Fred looked rueful.

‘Well, I’m hoping we’ll all pitch in with the cupcakes. Set up a production line. I’m sure we can do it in time.’

‘I’m not making bloody cupcakes,’ said Cher.

‘On television!’ muttered Muriel out of the corner of her mouth. ‘Remember to be nice!’

Zoe could hear her irritated sigh and hoped that the camera couldn’t. ‘Of course I’ll help!’ said Cher, loudly and brightly. ‘But this is a competition. We have to remember that.’ She was clearly upset Zoe was getting all the attention. It must be torture for her, especially when she’d paid particular attention to her hair and make-up that morning, thought Zoe bitchily.

‘So, Zoe, how do you picture the cupcakes? I mean, this is for a very special occasion. It needs to be more than a few buns, doesn’t it?’ Fred was his usual benign self but he obviously didn’t think cupcakes were going to cut it as a wedding cake.

‘I’m only the cook here,’ said Zoe, after a moment of panic she hoped wasn’t too apparent, ‘so dressing it up isn’t really my job —’

‘But it is. A chef is responsible for how his food looks. It’s a vital part.’ Fred wasn’t going to help her, obviously. ‘Think of the amazing ice sculptures some chefs produce.’

This was way above her pay grade, Zoe thought. In the nick of time she remembered the tulle. She paused and launched in. She had nothing to lose. ‘OK, what I see in my mind’s eye – although it might not be possible to do – is the cakes looking like a bridal veil?’ She was thinking on her feet.

‘Sounds very girly,’ said Fred, ‘do go on.’

As the words came out of her mouth the picture formed in her mind. ‘Well, I picture a cluster of cakes at the very top, as if they were the tiara. Then, with tulle or net or something cascading down the back, there’d be half moons of something holding the cakes, getting bigger and bigger towards the bottom.’ Relief at having made some sort of response even if it was totally impractical made her feel exhilarated. ‘And if would be great if the decorations on the cakes could be sort of mirrored on the veil. So we’d have a co-ordinated effect.’

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Sarah listening intently, a slight frown of concentration on her face. An encouraging smile from Gideon nearly threw her off but she managed to keep her cool.

‘That sounds very pretty. Sarah?’ Fred turned to her. ‘You’re in charge of this wedding and your regular cake-maker let you down—’

‘Not my regular cake-maker,’ Sarah corrected him. ‘She wouldn’t have let me down. This was one chosen by the bride. Anyway —’

‘Yes. Now do you think Zoe’s idea would work? It sounds very complicated to me.’

Fred was so sceptical that Zoe was plunged into anxiety.

‘Oh, I think it will work well,’ Sarah was saying. ‘I’ve seen something like that before and it looked stunning. We can copy some of the flowers in the bouquet and make them in icing – another way of linking it all together.’

When the cameras finally moved away, after Zoe had had to repeat herself several times, she found she was sweating.

‘Will it really work, do you think?’ she asked Sarah.

‘Oh yes! It’s a brilliant idea! Now you get on with your canapés and I’ll track down a stand and fabric for the cakes. I’ll also get hold of the cases. The minute I’ve got those, maybe you could get cracking?’

‘I won’t have to do it on my own, will I?’

‘I’m sure we’ll get someone to help you,’ Sarah said, sounding reassuring. And Zoe was reassured until she went to her station and realised how much she had to do even without the cakes. No one would risk losing because of inferior canapés to help with a cake that wasn’t part of the competition.

Feeling overwhelmed, she went to the table where the ingredients for the canapés sat, looking sad, not picked to be in the team by anyone. The others had wandered off for a coffee break in the barn. Zoe didn’t have time.

She was gloomily inspecting some camembert, wondering if she would be allowed to bake it whole so people could dip in, or if every canapé had to be a bite-sized piece, when someone came up behind her and kissed her neck. She jumped six feet in the air.

‘I knew you were responsive, but it was only a kiss.’ Gideon’s voice in her ear caused her to shiver all over and make her knees go weak.

Just for a second she allowed herself to enjoy the feeling of him pressed against her body, then she forced herself to be sensible. ‘Someone might see us!’ she breathed.

‘I checked. We’re blissfully alone. Shall we take advantage?’

She knew he was teasing but she longed to take him up on his suggestion. She was becoming obsessed with him, she realised, and she couldn’t afford to be. She just wanted to hold a part of him and never let go. She dragged some sense up from somewhere. She wanted to win the competition, or at least get through this round with her dignity intact. She was not going to blow it all just for a few moments of bliss. ‘No! Someone could appear at any moment. I have so much to do! I haven’t time for anything … extra-curricular. I’m not sure who will help me make the cupcakes and I’m sure my canapés will be dried up and horrible by the time anyone eats them. I have to make them first,’ she explained, in case he hadn’t got that she had twice as much to do as anyone else. ‘I mustn’t mess this up! The competition is the chance—’

‘Of a lifetime. OK, I get you. I’d better leave you alone then. I’m planning on doing some painting anyway.’

‘Painting? That’s a bit surprising. I don’t see you with an easel and a floppy hat.’

‘Not that kind of painting! Decorating. Rupert told me he’s frantically trying to get a coat of paint on their bedroom before the baby comes and I thought I’d do some for him. I’m not busy at the moment and they’re both up to their eyes with the wedding.’

Zoe gave a little sigh. He was not only sexy, charismatic and flatteringly into her, but he was also kind. Kindness was not a characteristic she usually associated with powerful, attractive men – no wonder she was infatuated. She allowed herself to stroke his arm in appreciation. Then she gave another, shuddering sigh. ‘I really must get on.’ What she must not do was make a fool of herself on television because of a man. She could cope with not winning but not with looking unprepared and stupid. Not even Gideon was worth that.

Gideon headed for the entrance to the marquee, turned back and blew her a kiss and then left her to it.

Collecting herself, she took what ingredients were left and put a tray of hazelnuts in the oven to roast. She didn’t know what she was going to do with them but having another look at the camembert, which actually smelt rather delicious now she was closer to it, she thought of the honey she had used for her ‘local and seasonal’ challenge. She had some left.

Rather than waste time finding Anna Fortune to ask if she could use other ingredients she decided just to carry on. She’d have to stop work on the challenge the minute Sarah came back with the cases for the cupcakes. Zoe hoped she wouldn’t have to make the stand for them on her own. She picked up a ciabatta to see if it was going stale already.

The others had returned to their stations and were now busy preparing their own canapés. The marquee was full of noise and bustle. She had to think quickly. Cher was watching her carefully; the cameramen were milling around. Zoe briefly noted that everyone else’s canapés all looked wonderfully professional and near completion. Hers were put to shame and what’s more she had barely started. Could she get it all together in time?



‘OK! Stop what you’re doing! I’ve got the stuff for the cupcakes!’ Sarah and Fenella sounded excited as they came up to Zoe at her station a little while later. ‘There is an amazing shop—’ Sarah went on.

‘That I told her about,’ put in Fenella.

‘Whatever. We’ve got what we need. But I think we should make them—’

‘We? Isn’t it just me then?’ asked Zoe hopefully.

‘It’s just you for now,’ said Sarah after a pause.

‘We did ask the others but no one is prepared to sacrifice their chances in the competition to do extra,’ said Fenella. ‘You’re the only one who seems to care about the actual wedding.’

‘Muriel said she’d help when she’d finished,’ said Sarah. ‘And Becca said she’d decorate if she had everything done.’

‘So why am I the mug? Why am I sacrificing my chances in the competition?’ Zoe looked at the two women who seemed to expect so much from her.

‘Because you’re nice and we’re desperate?’ said Fenella tentatively.

‘And I will do my best to make sure it doesn’t damage your chances,’ said Sarah, although she didn’t sound completely convinced she could do this. She paused. ‘I think we should do it in the Somerby kitchen, not here. It’ll be easier.’

Zoe sighed and as they walked back to the house she asked herself the question she had just asked the others. Her answers were complex and not very flattering. Yes, she did care about the wedding and genuinely want to help, but she also knew while she was competent she had good cooks to compete against. Maybe gaining some brownie points might actually work better for her. Also she wanted Gideon to be impressed. She wanted him to think well of her.

‘You’ve cleared the table!’ said Sarah, as they went in.

‘I shoved everything on it on to a chair,’ said Fenella, ‘if that’s what you mean. I thought Zoe needed space.’

‘I do!’ said Zoe. ‘Space and time and – well, anything else you’re offering.’

‘Tea?’ suggested Fenella, holding up the kettle.

Zoe nodded.

To her enormous relief, Fenella had a recipe book that gave quantities for that many cupcakes so she didn’t have to do complicated multiplication that might not have worked anyway. She rapidly weighed out the ingredients and Fenella handed her a pile of bowls. ‘And here’s my KitchenAid! Isn’t it heaven? I don’t actually use it often but I love looking at it.’

Zoe inspected the powder-blue machine that was giving Fenella such aesthetic pleasure. ‘Actually, have you got a hand mixer?’ Zoe asked. ‘I think it would work better than that. I’ll use the KitchenAid for the icing,’ she added, by way of compensation.

Fenella and Sarah laid out seventy-five cupcake cases. ‘Thank goodness you’ve got this huge table,’ said Sarah. ‘I’d never be able to do this at home.’

Fenella shook her head. ‘But you wouldn’t be doing it at home, would you? You’d get a caterer.’

‘Or Bron,’ said Sarah, referring to a mutual friend. ‘I’d have got her to do the wedding cake in the first place only the bride wanted her favoured cake-maker.’ Sarah was obviously still furious about it. ‘So,’ she went on. ‘Is there any chance we can get the colours that were going in the original cake?’

‘Which are?’ Zoe felt a film of sweat form as this cupcake idea just got harder.

‘Deep crimson, the colour of dark red roses, and a sort of very pale yellow. I do have samples of fabric.’ Sarah’s expression was encouraging, as if this would definitely be helpful.

‘I have dried rose petals exactly the right shade,’ added Fenella. ‘And, if it helps, it just so happens that we have a rose out with petals exactly the right yellow. I don’t know why yellow roses always seem to be the first to come out, but they are.’

‘If you’re doing the wedding-veil thing we could use them to help decorate the cakes,’ said Sarah.

‘Will the cakes be white?’ asked Zoe. ‘Or cream-coloured?’

Sarah cleared her throat. ‘The kitchen shop was pretty good. It had colouring. Is there any chance you could do coloured icing?’ She produced the colours as if giving a present she wasn’t certain of.

Zoe inspected the pots, read the tops and nodded. ‘I could do red cakes, like roses, pale yellow, ditto and’ – she paused – ‘two-tone cakes. Well, the icing is two-tone.’

‘Wow!’ said Fenella. ‘How do you do that?’

‘Easier than it sounds. I’ll show you if you’re around when I’m doing them.’

Sarah came round the table and hugged her. ‘You’re a star! I don’t know what we’d do without you!’

Zoe accepted the hug. ‘All part of the service.’

About twenty minutes later she said, ‘Now, I think I’m about ready to fill the cases.’

‘OK, as you fill them we’ll put them on trays and put them in the oven,’ said Fenella. ‘Are you sure you don’t want to use the Aga? It’s the perfect temperature to do cakes at the moment.’

Zoe was torn. The woman she’d learnt about cupcakes from said that range cookers were a nightmare for cupcakes. But it would be much quicker if they could use all the oven space available.

Zoe looked at Sarah hoping for a decision. ‘You could try a trayful,’ Sarah said, possibly reading panic and indecision in Zoe’s eyes. ‘It would speed up the process and it will be OK if you keep an eye on them.’

‘Yes, but don’t open the oven door within the first ten minutes or they’ll sink for sure.’

‘We’ll set the timer,’ said Fenella. ‘I make cakes in the Aga all the time. I’ll keep a close eye.’

‘All right,’ said Zoe. ‘But it’ll be your fault if it all goes wrong! If the cakes are cooked too hot they turn into volcanoes. Then we’d have to cut the tops off and it would take ages.’ She peered at the thermometer and relaxed a little. It wasn’t too hot.

‘That’s OK,’ said Sarah, using tones well practised on the anxieties of brides’ mothers and sometimes bridegrooms. ‘We’ll keep an eye. It’ll all be fine.’

At last all the cakes were in the oven and Zoe dashed back to her canapés at her station in the cooking tent. As she passed the other competitors and saw what further beautiful creations they had produced while she’d been baking she felt she’d never survive the round. She just hadn’t had the time.

Adrenalin made her work fast but she kept looking at her watch. Although Sarah and Fenella were both in the kitchen with timers and her number on their phones so they could ring the minute the cakes were cooked, she was still worried about a batch getting burnt and her having to make them all over again.

She got the call just as she was trying to think up a last canapé, aware she’d wandered off the list she’d originally given but trusting that not having the ingredients would be sufficient excuse. Abandoning some toasted ciabatta and slices of camembert, she galloped over to the house and checked that all the cakes were golden brown.

‘They look amazing!’ said Sarah firmly. ‘Just check in case you don’t believe me and then go back to your day job. You can’t ice these until they’re cool.’

‘OK,’ said Zoe, slightly out of breath. ‘I’ll make the icing after the judging.’

The contestants had had to prepare as far as they could, given that many of the canapés would have to be cooked just before serving. They’d been told that a sample of everything had to be ready so the judges could taste it all but they wouldn’t make their final decision until the following day, just before everything was ready to serve.

They walked along the line, tasting, exclaiming, making noises of appreciation. Zoe was horribly aware how rushed and rustic her offerings looked.

There was a silence as they arrived at her station.

‘She’s just made seventy-five cupcakes for the wedding cake,’ said Sarah after a panicked moment. ‘She’s rescued the whole wedding.’

‘We can’t judge her differently from the others because she’s used her time to do different things,’ said Anna Fortune.

‘Try a cupcake,’ said Sarah. ‘Obviously it’s not iced. We’ll be doing that tomorrow.’

‘And is Zoe doing that?’ Anna asked, addressing Sarah, not Zoe.

‘Yes. We’re hoping some of the others will help.’ Sarah spoke with a confidence she might not have entirely felt.

‘But why should they jeopardise their chances in the competition to help ice cakes?’

Gideon, who had been standing back, stepped forward. ‘The challenge is about a wedding. Surely the cake is a major part of it. I think the cupcakes should be taken into consideration.’

Zoe looked away. She was finding it hard being around him in public and was terrified she might reveal her feelings for him. And him sticking up for her now made her feel that even he thought her canapés were hopeless.

‘I say,’ put in Fred, with his mouthful. ‘These are delicious!’

‘What are?’ Anna and Gideon regarded the plates with sudden interest.

Fred finished his canapé and pointed. It was to the ciabatta with melted camembert. Zoe had drizzled honey over them and added ground-up hazelnuts. They had been a last-minute, desperate attempt to come up with something to make up her required number of items. If the sample had worked, she’d make them just before the service tomorrow.

Gideon and Anna both took one. They nodded and Gideon widened his eyes, indicating his approval.

‘Well,’ said Anna eventually, ‘the final judging isn’t until just before the wedding tomorrow and those are very delicious and unusual. Maybe we don’t need to throw Zoe out just yet.’ She gave a smile that convinced no one but did at least mean that Zoe was off the hook for now. She let out a very long breath.