Recipe for Love

CHAPTER Seventeen





THE KITCHEN DOOR banged and Rupert appeared. He had the broadest grin Zoe had ever seen on his face.

‘It’s a girl!’ he said, his voice high with emotion and relief. ‘Mother and baby doing fine!’ He embraced Zoe as if she was his oldest friend.

‘Oh, Rupert, that’s wonderful!’ cried Zoe. ‘I’m so happy for you both!’

Rupert was on a high. He hugged Gideon too, saying, ‘I never want to go through that again, but it was amazing. Just amazing. Poor old Fen! Seeing her in so much pain was ghastly.’

The words spilled out of him. They listened smiling and nodding as he went on to describe the labour, contraction by contraction, and then the epidural and the birth. He even showed them a couple of pictures he’d managed to take of mother and baby which they dutifully oohed and ahhed over. At last he stopped. ‘I need a drink of water,’ he said hoarsely.

‘I’d need something stronger if I’d just gone through all that,’ said Gideon, looking a little pale.

Zoe handed Rupert the water. ‘You’d better tell your parents you’re home.’

Rupert downed the glass of water in one. ‘God! I’m all over the place – I haven’t even told them Fen’s had the baby yet! Look, would you mind asking them to come through while I find some champers? We must celebrate! Where are they, by the way?’

‘I turned Fen’s study into a dining room. We couldn’t quite cope with having them in here.’ Zoe paused, aware she was going to say something that might be hurtful. ‘I mean, I don’t think they’re used to kitchens.’

‘No, they’re not. But they can put up with it this time.’ He disappeared briefly into the back regions and reappeared holding a couple of bottles. ‘I put these to chill before I left.’ He unscrewed the wire on one of them. ‘So would you be a love and fetch them?’ he asked Zoe. ‘They should be here when the cork is out.’

Zoe knocked on the door of the makeshift dining room and went in. ‘Rupert’s here. He wants to talk to you.’

‘Ah! The baby!’ Rupert’s father got up. ‘Though what he knows about it, I don’t know.’

‘He’ll have been there, darling,’ said Rupert’s mother. ‘You knew he was going to be.’

Rupert’s father made a sound like an irritated lion. ‘I do not understand this modern fashion for fathers in the labour ward. Quite unnecessary and very unpleasant for all concerned.’

‘Absolutely. Never happened in my day,’ said Lady Gainsborough, shaking her head in disapproval of modern habits. ‘The men kept out of the way and only saw the mother when she was all cleaned up and tidy.’ She put down the petit point she was doing, possibly to make a change from knitting little handwash-only garments. They followed Zoe to the kitchen.

‘It’s a girl!’ announced Rupert, pouring champagne into glasses.

‘Ah,’ said his father, brought up short. ‘Well, never mind, old chap. She’s young enough to have another go. You might get a boy next time.’

Now Zoe understood Rupert’s delay in telling them. He must have anticipated that they’d want him to have a son and heir.

‘It’s a shame,’ said his mother, shaking her head, somehow implying that with a little more organisation and foresight, and less concession to modern mores, this blow could have been avoided.

‘Actually,’ said Rupert, sounding annoyed, ‘we’re thrilled to have a little girl! She’s absolutely beautiful!’

‘Oh come on, darling,’ said his mother. ‘All babies look the same. I’m glad you’re putting a brave face on it, but there’s no need. We’re your parents. You can be honest.’

‘I am being honest! We’re delighted to have a girl and she is beautiful!’

‘There, there,’ said his mother, ‘no need to get upset. I’m sure she’ll be very pretty in a year or so.’

‘She’s beautiful now! And if you want champagne, pick up a glass.’

Gideon picked up two and gave them to the reluctant grandparents.

‘Have you thought of names?’ asked Zoe, partly for social reasons and partly because she wanted to know.

‘Honoria, Eugenia, Arethusa,’ said Rupert, clutching his glass grimly.

His mother frowned. ‘But none of those are family names. What are you thinking of? Or was it Fenella’s choice?’

‘We talked about it together,’ said Rupert, having downed half the contents of his glass in one and topped it up.

‘Women are prone to mad ideas when they’ve just pupped,’ said Lord Gainsborough. ‘She’ll see sense eventually.’

His wife nodded. ‘We offered to pay for a monthly nurse, one who’d get the baby into a good routine. But oh no, the silly girl is going to breastfeed.’ She shook her head, revolted by the very idea.

Gideon raised an eyebrow and started on the wire of the second bottle. Zoe caught his eye – she longed for them to have a quiet moment together. She’d reluctantly come to the heart-wrenching conclusion that with all the drama there was no way they could spend the night together discreetly.

Rupert went on determinedly. ‘We have to get the birth registered before six weeks are up and we’ve chosen our names.’ He looked at Zoe, his eyes glittering dangerously. ‘Is there anything to eat? I know I shouldn’t ask you but—’

‘Why shouldn’t you ask her?’ said his father. ‘For God’s sake! These bloody communist ideas!’ He drained his champagne glass. ‘Now I’m going to bed, if no one objects!’ He said this as if people were likely to protest against losing his company. When he got to the door, he ground to a halt and turned back. ‘By the way, that’s a jolly decent claret your girl served us. You must tell me where you got it.’

‘Another time, if you don’t mind,’ said Rupert.

‘Wait for me!’ Rupert’s mother called to her husband. ‘I’m coming too! You can help me up those death-trap stairs!’

Only a moment passed before Zoe began to giggle. Tiredness, champagne and the ridiculousness of Rupert’s parents got to her.

‘Are you drunk?’ demanded Gideon, trying not to laugh himself.

‘Maybe! I don’t know!’ Zoe continued to laugh although she knew it wasn’t really that funny.

‘I do apologise for them,’ said Rupert, sinking down into a chair at the table. ‘We don’t see a lot of them, as you’ve probably gathered, and I forget how appalling they are.’

‘I’m sure they have some endearing qualities,’ said Zoe, serious at last and determined that Rupert shouldn’t feel obliged to apologise further. ‘And they’ve been a good challenge, I must say. Feeding them was fun. Talking of which – stew?’

Rupert frowned. ‘Stew? Oh my giddy aunt!’ (Zoe felt he probably had a real giddy aunt.) ‘I made that ages ago. I can’t believe I was so organised.’

‘You weren’t quite organised enough to freeze it, but your parents thought it was nice,’ said Gideon.

Rupert put his head into his hands. ‘Oh my God, I do hope I haven’t poisoned them.’

‘It wouldn’t have been you that poisoned them,’ said Zoe, sounding calmer than she felt, ‘it would have been us.’ A thought occurred to her. ‘Will they sue?’

Rupert chuckled and shook his head. ‘Oh no, they’re old school. A gippy tummy is a gippy tummy. No real cause for alarm.’ He paused. ‘I’ll give the stew a miss though. I’ll just make myself a snack.’

Gideon pressed him back down into his seat. ‘We’re staff; you’ve just had a baby. We can rustle something up.’

‘Of course!’ said Zoe. ‘I could make you a sandwich or an omelette or something.’ He looked hungry but nothing she’d offered him apparently hit the spot. ‘Or you could have a crêpe filled with apple and calvados with a white chocolate custard.’

Rupert beamed. ‘Now you’re talking!’

When, a few moments later, she put the plate in front of him he gave a satisfied sigh. ‘God, you’re good!’ he said.

‘She is, isn’t she?’ said Gideon and Zoe glowed.

‘You don’t fancy a job, do you?’ said Rupert, looking hopeful.

Zoe laughed. ‘Not just at the moment, thank you, but I’ll bear it in mind.’

‘She’s got a competition to get through before she can start thinking about jobs. It’s important she doesn’t get distracted,’ said Gideon firmly.

‘I know, I was only chancing my arm,’ said Rupert. ‘What do you plan to do if you win?’

‘I want to open the perfect deli,’ said Zoe. ‘You know, the usual, with olive oil and balsamic but also made dishes, so locals and visitors can buy ready meals and cakes and things, but properly home-made.’

‘You wouldn’t fancy making food – ready meals – to sell to supermarkets?’ Rupert asked. He’d gone on to the plate of cheese and biscuits that Zoe had found.

She shook her head. ‘No. I like the people aspect of it all. I’d enjoy getting in the special tea for the picky customer and making the dishes for the person with food allergies.’

‘Fair enough,’ said Rupert. ‘I do get that. I like the people aspect of this business too, most of the time. Getting it right for them is sometimes a problem but when you do, it’s very satisfying.’

Zoe nodded. ‘I like solving problems too. It’s one of the reasons I entered the competition, really.’

Gideon refilled their glasses. Rupert toyed with his for a few moments. ‘I’m not quite sure how to put this, but Fen would be really grateful if you were here when she comes home with the baby. She can’t cope with my parents at the best of times and when you’ve just had a baby you’re very vulnerable. The midwife told me,’ he added before Zoe could ask how he knew this.

Gideon shook his head. ‘Zoe’s got to practise for her fine-dining challenge. She’s good but she will need to think about what she’s doing and make sure she can do it.’

Zoe was torn. She wasn’t good at saying no and she was very fond of Rupert and Fenella. ‘I could practise here,’ she said. ‘This kitchen is far bigger than my parents’ kitchen is.’ She looked at Gideon, to make sure he understood. ‘I was in a rented house before the competition and I gave it up – or at least didn’t renew my lease.’

‘If you could we’d be so grateful. You’ve seen what my parents are like. They just don’t understand how much work they make and they’ve always had servants. They live in a different era to the rest of us.’

Gideon shook his head. ‘It’s amazing you’re so normal, really.’

‘Mm.’ Zoe nodded. She wanted to add, ‘So calm, so good-natured, so undemanding,’ but felt that while it was OK for him to go on about his parents, she and Gideon should keep their complaints to the minimum.

‘That’s what Fen said when she first met them. She wouldn’t come home and face them at all until we were engaged. She only did then because she absolutely had to. I’d talked to her about them rather too much.’

‘Really?’ asked Gideon, his interest piqued. ‘So what happened when you did bring her to meet them?’

Rupert shook his head with remembered embarrassment. ‘It was pretty awful until they found out that Fen’s ancestors are actually quite a bit posher than mine, in spite of the title. So they stopped thinking I was marrying beneath me.’ He paused. ‘They still don’t get her, though.’ He shook his head sadly.

Zoe and Gideon exchanged glances and Zoe realised that Gideon shared her slight fear that Rupert was going to get maudlin and sentimental – understandable but not helpful.

Zoe spoke bracingly. ‘I’m sure they’ll love her when they see her being a brilliant mum, and she’s bound to be one of those. You can sort of tell.’ Not being a mother herself Zoe was making this up as she went along but she thought it was quite probably true.

Rupert smiled and got to his feet. ‘It doesn’t really matter though. Can I tempt either of you to a brandy? I think I need one.’

‘Um,’ said Zoe, not sure how much longer she could keep awake.

‘Not for me, I’m afraid,’ said Gideon, ‘I’ve got to get some sleep. I have to be on my way early in the morning.’ He looked at Zoe as he said this.

Zoe felt instantly bereft. Awareness that this short idyll of being together without having to be furtive was already over made tears prick her eyes. She knew it was tiredness that was making her react so strongly but she couldn’t help it. ‘Actually I might join you in the brandy, Rupert.’ She looked at Gideon, unable to keep her expression bland, although she tried. She had no rights over him – she couldn’t question when or where he went. He was a free agent, as was she. She sipped the brandy Rupert had passed across the table, hoping it would make her brave.

‘But, Gideon,’ said Rupert, ‘you can’t leave the party now. It’s just getting fun!’

‘I must, I’m afraid. As I said, I’ve got a fearsomely early start. I have to get home, finish an article, put some things in a bag and get myself to the airport to catch an afternoon flight.’

Flight? What flight? Where was he going? Why hadn’t he mentioned it before? Was that what he’d been trying to tell her before? Zoe panicked slightly and then took a deep breath. He had been so loving in their brief time together this evening in between their running around after Rupert’s parents. She felt tears prickle.

‘I’ll miss all the traffic and …’ He looked down at Zoe and Zoe longed for them to be alone, but she couldn’t think how to engineer it.

‘Zoe?’ said Gideon softly. ‘Could I have a word before I turn in?’

She followed him out of the door, fighting tears. But by the time she’d got up the stairs and joined him in his room she looked calm even if she didn’t feel it.

‘I don’t want to go, I really don’t,’ said Gideon the moment they were through the door. ‘But I’ve had this meeting set up for ages. They’re a group of olive-oil producers – a tiny consortium. I’d really like to buy from them if I can.’ His voice tailed away.

Zoe nodded, glad she’d had the brandy, which had given her the strength she needed. ‘Of course you must go. There’s no earthly reason why you shouldn’t.’

‘Isn’t there? Well no, not really. You’ll be all right.’ He stated a fact. ‘But, Zoe, you’re to promise me you will practise your cooking? You mustn’t just turn into a slave for Rupert’s parents, or even for Rupert and Fenella and the baby. The competition is important.’

‘I know it is. I will practise. I want my pâtisserie to be as good as – the other competitors,’ she added, stopping herself from saying Cher’s name in case it made her look vindictive.

He kissed the top of her head. ‘Good girl. I’m so proud of you. Now you go and keep Rupert company. I wish … but we can’t …’

From the depths of her sadness came a dimple of mischief. ‘Oh? Why’s that?’

He ruffled her hair. ‘You know perfectly well why. Not with this houseful.’ He drew her to him. ‘This is a deposit for next time we meet.’ He kissed her hard and long until Zoe was breathless and had almost forgotten that he was leaving. ‘I’ll claim the rest when we’re together again in private,’ he said. He was breathless too.



Fighting a confusing mix of sadness and unfulfilled desire, Zoe rejoined Rupert in the kitchen. He seemed to still be full of adrenalin caused by seeing his daughter born, but at least had moved from brandy on to tea. Zoe made herself a mug, blessing the kettle that was almost permanently boiling that made this the work of moments.

‘So tell me,’ she said, pinning on a smile. ‘What are you really going to call the baby?’

He gave a shout of laughter. ‘So you weren’t fooled? I’m glad!’

‘So?’

‘Glory. We’re going to call her Glory. Short for Glorianna.’

‘Oh. That’s a lovely name!’ Once she’d had a second or two to get used to it, Zoe discovered that she did think it was a lovely name. ‘And when will your parents find out the truth?’

‘Oh, I don’t know. At the christening probably.’

Zoe smiled. ‘And when does Fen think she’ll be allowed home?’

‘A day or so. She needs to get over the birth and all that, but she’s longing to get back.’ He paused. ‘There was a time, during labour – transition I think they call it – when she said that unless I got my bloody parents out of the house first, she’d never come home.’

‘She’ll feel different about that now she’s had the baby, I’m sure,’ said Zoe, although she wasn’t confident about it.

‘She’d better. When my parents decide something – like they’re here to help with the baby – they stick by it.’

‘I hope this doesn’t sound horrible but your mother doesn’t come over as a hands-on granny.’

Rupert laughed. ‘She wasn’t a hands-on mother, why would she change? Good point! But she has a sense of what’s right.’ He stood up and yawned hugely. ‘Shame Gideon has to go. He’s a good bloke. Thinks very highly of you.’

Zoe blushed. ‘Well …’

‘Really! Says you’re the best all-round cook in the competition.’ He frowned. ‘Said he couldn’t go on about it too much though. People might talk. Anyway! Better go to bed now. Damn tired. You must be too,’ he added. Zoe loved him in that moment for being so British and not prying.

‘I am pretty much hanging.’

‘Well, don’t worry about the parents’ breakfast. I’ll give them one of my fry-ups. That’ll keep them quiet for hours. Get up when you feel like it.’

‘OK, but really, I quite enjoyed being a maid. Or maybe it was a cook general?’

‘You’re neither! You’re a friend!’

‘It’s all right. I do know that. I was just saying …’ What she was saying escaped her and she yawned hugely. ‘I’m going to bed. Night night. And congratulations!’