Recipe for Love

CHAPTER Twenty-Six





AS ZOE PULLED her dress over her head she accepted that she had to go to the party although she was in tatters. She desperately needed to see Gideon and talk to him even if he was still ready to kill her. As she saw it, she’d had no choice but to do what she did and it was for him as much as herself. But would he see it like that? Or would he say – and he would have a point – that while Cher still had the pictures they still could be blackmailed and she had spoilt her chances of winning for nothing?

She wanted all her armour though. She wanted to be the perfect, elegant girlfriend. And it was nice to be looking glamorous for a change. He hadn’t often seen her in a dress with proper make-up and good shoes. She couldn’t compete with Cher, of course, who, tanned and Botoxed, plucked and shaped, was model-beautiful, but she didn’t need to care about Cher any more. Did she?

By clever timing, she and Becca managed to get into the same cab. Cher was still titivating and Shadrach had gone straight from the movie theatre where they’d watched the programme to the venue. He was probably going to be at the party wearing his chef’s whites, only in his case the word ‘white’ was no longer quite appropriate.

Mike came up to them. ‘Becca! Zoe! You look amazing! Really lovely. Not that you didn’t always, but now you look sort of – groomed.’ He looked at Zoe particularly and she managed a smile.

‘I am groomed. Really, there’s not a hair out of place – anywhere!’

Mike laughed. ‘Not too much information please! Becca, can I borrow you for a moment?’

Zoe would have liked Becca to chat to. She suddenly felt shy. The party seemed to be full of people shouting at each other and no one was familiar. Her mother really would have hated it.

Then she spotted Gideon. He was way over the other side of the room. She didn’t want to be the one who went up to him but felt she should give him a chance to see her by moving nearer. She put on a purposeful expression as she ‘excuse-me’d her way through the crowd.

As she approached her target she spotted Sylvie who’d supported her through the restaurant challenge and went to talk to her, grateful not to be ‘Norma no mates’ any longer.

‘Hi, Sylvie! How are you?’

‘Zoe! Hi! What a shame you didn’t win! You would have done if you hadn’t oversalted the steak. That’s really not like you. I thought you had a good palate.’ Sylvie seemed to take Zoe’s failure to win personally.

Zoe shrugged apologetically. ‘Oh, you know how it is. I got nervous.’

Sylvie shook her head still disbelieving. ‘Your fish was perfect though, or looked it. I’m glad about that.’

‘You were so helpful,’ said Zoe. ‘I’ll always be grateful for what you taught me.’

‘You were a good pupil!’ Sylvie paused. ‘What did Gideon say to you about oversalting the steak?’

‘I haven’t seen him to talk to since I did it,’ said Zoe.

‘He’ll roast you alive,’ said Sylvie calmly. ‘He knows how good you can be. He’s been telling everyone.’

This was a bit of a shock. It had never occurred to her that he would talk about her skills as a chef with other people. It seemed a bit indiscreet in the circumstances. In a moment of panic she wondered if he’d been indiscreet about anything else but realised a moment later that of course he wouldn’t be. He wasn’t like that. But it took her heart a moment to catch up with her head and stop fluttering like a wild bird in a cage.

Zoe braced herself. ‘I’d better go and speak to him.’ If Sylvie, only knowing half the story, thought Gideon would be furious then he was likely to eat her alive.

‘I’ll be here with a brandy and a wet towel if you need them,’ said Sylvie. ‘But making such a basic mistake …’

Zoe was just gearing herself up to have a conversation she knew wasn’t going to be remotely pleasant when a very beautiful blonde woman approached Gideon from behind. Gideon, who was talking to someone, didn’t notice her but Zoe and Sylvie were well placed to see how she planned to surprise him. She put her arms round him from behind and kissed his cheek. Zoe saw Gideon turn round in surprise, and then a big smile lit up his face as he took her in his arms in a bear hug.

‘That’s his wife,’ muttered Sylvie beside her. ‘I Googled him – you know, after we talked about him – in a stalkerish way, and saw it was her.’

Zoe felt herself sway and only just managed not to clutch on to Sylvie. She tried to force moisture into her mouth. She felt so sick and dizzy she wished she could faint to order. But she could hardly move. For some reason people were pressing nearer so she and Sylvie were crushed together. A discreet exit was out of the question. She looked at Gideon, willing him to glance in her direction and somehow make it all right. As she looked she saw the woman – his wife – pull him in closer. ‘Darling!’

Zoe didn’t know if she could hear the woman speak over the crowd or if she was just lip-reading but the woman’s body language was clear as day. This woman was very, very fond of Gideon. And he seemed just as fond of her. His arm was still tightly around her waist as she leant in to talk to him. He laughed at something she whispered in his ear. Zoe couldn’t bear to watch but nor could she move away. The press of people was just too much.

Then Gideon turned and saw Zoe. He smiled and beckoned her over. It was the jolt she needed to make her shift her paralysed limbs. He wanted to introduce her to his wife? How could he – how could anyone with any sort of heart do that?

‘Not a good moment to have a chat,’ she muttered to Sylvie. ‘And I need the loo. Catch up later.’ She started the process of escaping from the crowd but found herself looking at Gideon again.

He looked straight back at her, his expression bewildered.

He was unbelievable. Fighting tears she shook her head and began to push her way out through the crowd in earnest. She got out of the room and into the corridor. She was searching for the Ladies, wanting to be alone to get a hold of herself, when suddenly Gideon was in front of her.

He must have been far more forceful about getting through the throng than she had been. He looked confused – hurt even.

‘Zoe, what are you doing? Where are you going?’

‘Home!’ she said instinctively.

‘But we need to talk! I want to introduce you to—’

‘To your wife? You must be raving mad!’ She set off down the corridor as fast as her high heels would let her.

‘For God’s sake!’ He chased after her and caught her arm just as she reached the corner. ‘Zoe! You’re being ridiculous!’

She shook her head. ‘No I’m not. I’m being perfectly reasonable. You’re married. Your wife is here. You obviously love each other. Let’s not pretend it’s anything different. We had …’ She glanced up and down the corridor to make sure no one could overhear her. ‘… a fling. But I don’t want to break up your marriage. I’m just going to go home and carry on with the rest of my life.’

‘It’s not like that!’ Gideon looked down at her, frowning, his mouth compressed.

Zoe knew she was about to cry. She was tired, overwrought and very stressed. ‘Oh, find a new scriptwriter! That line’s very overused!’ she threw at him.

‘You’re being so unreasonable!’

‘Oh, am I? Well, I’m sorry I won’t join in with your cosy little “ménage à trois” but I’m just too old-fashioned!’

‘That’s not what I meant at all!’

‘It doesn’t matter. I’m breaking off whatever it was we had.’ Cruelly, her brain flicked back to their time at Somerby together when she thought they were a proper couple. She knew she wouldn’t hold the tears back much longer.

‘You can’t just walk out on us!’

‘Yes I can!’ She paused long enough to unhook her shoes from her feet. By a miracle she spotted a sign to the Ladies and ran towards it. She could hear footsteps behind her and broke out into a sweat. She had to reach the door before he reached her.

Assistance came from an unexpected source. An American voice called down the passage, ‘Gideon? Honey? There’s someone you really must meet …’

It made him pause and Zoe got through the door.

She leant against it until she was sure Gideon wasn’t following her in there and then took refuge in a cubicle.

She was splashing her face with water when Fenella and Glory came in.

‘Oh, Zoe! I am glad to see you. It’s such a crush in there I thought I’d never find you to say goodbye. I just want to change Glory’s nappy and then we’re off.’

‘Oh? So soon?’ Zoe suddenly felt as if her only friends in the world were emigrating, leaving her to live a long and lonely life on her own.

‘Yes. We want to get back. Glory doesn’t love being in the car. It’s easier if we travel at night.’ She put Glory down on the designated space and began unwrapping her. ‘What are your plans?’

‘Oh, I’ll go home too, I suppose. If that is a plan.’

‘Will your parents be disappointed that you didn’t win?’ Fen lifted up Glory’s legs and slid a fresh nappy under her.

‘Yes, but they won’t make me feel awful about it or anything.’

‘Do you feel awful about it?’ Fen looked curious. ‘You did so well!’

‘No. No, not really.’ Zoe felt so awful generally it was hard to tell how much she minded not winning when she knew if she hadn’t been blackmailed she could have done – or at least had a fighting chance.

‘So what will you do when you get home? Apart from having a rest?’

Zoe shrugged, really wondering if she’d ever have enough spirit to do anything again. ‘Slump for a bit and then start looking for jobs, I suppose.’

‘I don’t suppose you’d consider coming back with us? We’ve a big do on at the weekend and I could really use your help. It’s one of Sarah’s weddings.’

Zoe considered. In some ways she wanted to go home, to be cherished by her mother, who had comforted her through every disappointment in her life. But on the other hand, at Somerby she’d be busy. She wouldn’t have time to think about Gideon, or what might have been. ‘I’d have to ask my mum, make sure she doesn’t feel let down.’

‘Give her a ring.’

Zoe got out her phone. Her call was answered instantly. ‘Mum? Mum, I didn’t win. I’m not at all surprised. Becca, the girl who did win, was wonderful and she finally got her nerves under control.’

‘Ah, well, it was brilliant you got as far as you did,’ said her mother. ‘Were my coffee cups appreciated?’

‘Oh yes, and they’re coming back to you very soon. They’re being sent by special delivery.’

‘Aren’t you going to bring them?’

Zoe paused. ‘The thing is, I hope you don’t mind, but Fen has asked me if I’ll go back with them to Somerby. They’ve got a big do on and she needs help with the baby.’ She took a breath and played her trump card. ‘It would really take my mind off not winning.’

‘Then of course you must go to Somerby, darling!’ Her mother seemed relieved that Zoe had something nice lined up. ‘And you never know, there might be a job in it for you!’

‘Oh Mum, I won’t stay too long, I want to hug you so much! But I do feel it’s what I need to do just at the moment.’

*

‘I’m sorry to drag you away,’ Fenella apologised as they set off into the night. ‘Other people’s babies love their car seats and go to sleep instantly in them. Not our little Glory.’

‘That’s all right,’ said Zoe. ‘I’m glad to think I won’t be running into Cher by mistake. I feel a bit like I’m escaping.’ She hadn’t gone back to the party. She hoped people wouldn’t mind her not saying goodbye.

‘Oh?’ said Rupert, looking at Zoe in the driving mirror.

‘Oh you know,’ said Zoe, now hoping she hadn’t betrayed herself. ‘There’s been so much publicity and things. And Cher and I have never really got on.’

‘What about you and Gideon?’ asked Fenella. ‘Sorry to ask, but I couldn’t help noticing he seemed to be with someone else at the party.’

‘Yup,’ said Zoe baldly. ‘He’s married.’

‘Oh God, Zoe, I’m so sorry!’ said Fenella. ‘What a complete gobshite.’

Zoe nodded. ‘Yup. All men are bastards, present company excepted.’ She yawned loudly. ‘I might close my eyes actually. I’m a bit shattered.’

‘You do that,’ said Fenella. ‘I’m planning to do the same. We’ll plot Gideon’s ghastly death tomorrow.’

Zoe was tired but she wasn’t sleepy. However, pretending to be asleep would mean she didn’t have to talk.

The big Range Rover purred through the streets of London and on to the motorway, and in spite of her inner agonies, Zoe dozed off for real. When she woke up they were driving through the winding lanes of Herefordshire and nearly home.



Although it was summer, when they arrived back and Fenella had fed Glory, she insisted on giving Zoe a hot-water bottle and Rupert demanded she accept a stiff drink. Taking both with her, she went up to her allocated bedroom which, unfortunately, was the one where she had slept with Gideon. Fenella put a sympathetic hand on her arm. ‘I’m sorry, but the bed is made up and I don’t want you going in the cowshed. I think you should be in the house, with us.’

Apart from the inevitable poignancy of sleeping in the bed where she’d been so happy with Gideon, Zoe was glad she was in the house too. The hot-water bottle and the whisky, as well as an exhaustion natural after all she’d been through, meant she drifted off almost immediately.



She awoke to birds singing and sunshine pouring in through the window. It took her a few seconds to work out where she was and why. Her feelings were so mixed she felt slightly sick, and she got up and went to the window, hoping the summer morning would soothe her.

Of course she was glad that she hadn’t won so that Cher’s threat of blackmail had nearly disappeared. (While she still had the pictures, Zoe couldn’t completely relax.) And of course she was very happy to be at Somerby where no one could get to her. But the memory of the row with Gideon felt almost like a torn muscle or an unhealed sore. She could see his face, which had once looked at her so tenderly, full of confusion and despising her.

Not that it was all her fault. They were both responsible. But at least she had been a free agent. Gideon had a wife he hadn’t mentioned. And Becca deserved to win. She was by far the best cook. But Zoe had had a good chance until she’d let her heart rule her head – and all for a man who forgot to tell her he was married.

Except she loved him. Until the parallel lines of her head and her heart finally crossed, she would go on loving him. The trouble was, her heart didn’t believe what her head knew perfectly well. She wasn’t stupid, intellectually, but she couldn’t convince her heart – or her body – that he was a bad man and she was far better off without him.

She had a quick shower, pulled on a sundress and went downstairs with her hair still wet and no make-up.

‘I love summer,’ she announced to Fenella and Rupert who were in the kitchen, ‘you only have to put on about two items of clothing.’ She was determined to put a brave face on it. She’d been a fool. And Fenella had warned her to be careful.

Fenella and Rupert laughed, as they were supposed to. ‘Are you saying that you are only wearing two items of clothing?’ asked Fen.

‘Yes. You’ll be relieved to hear I am wearing knickers.’ She pulled out a chair and sat down. ‘Where’s my goddaughter this morning?’

‘Still asleep.’ Rupert picked up the baby alarm as if to check it was still working. ‘She had a feed when we got in – which was quite late – but has, amazingly, slept soundly since. Now,’ he said, rubbing his hands. ‘Breakfast?’

Zoe agreed to eggs, bacon and sausages, a little surprised to find herself so hungry. Her relentlessly cheerful air was having the right effect. No one was looking at her pityingly or asking searching questions and she could just sip the mug of tea Fenella handed her and watch Rupert cook. She wasn’t sure she was going to feel like cooking herself any time soon but just being in the Somerby kitchen was soothing.

‘OK,’ said Rupert, setting down two plates laden with food. ‘Real toast or Aga toast?’

‘Aga toast, definitely.’

‘So, Zoe,’ said Fenella, once they had all they needed in front of them, ‘what are you going to do now? And why the hell did you oversalt the steak?’

‘Fen!’ said her husband indignantly. ‘You said I had to be tactful and you go right on in with your green wellies!’

‘What?’ said Zoe looking between them, wondering if she could get out of this conversation.

‘Fen said, “Now, Rupes, don’t say anything. Be tactful! Poor girl,”’ he quoted. ‘And she just plunges in, no tact at all!’

‘Ah.’ Zoe sighed deeply. She’d been sure her sundress and jaunty attitude and enormous appetite would convince them that all was well in her world. Apparently not.

‘What went wrong?’ asked Fen. ‘You were doing so well! There’s no way you’d put on too much salt by mistake.’

‘Do you think anyone else thought that?’ This could be serious.

‘What? That you deliberately oversalted the beef?’ said Fenella, considering. ‘To be honest, I suppose people who didn’t know your cooking would have thought you just made a mistake.’

‘But you didn’t?’ asked Rupert, fish slice in hand, having just added a slice of bread to the accumulated bacon fat in the pan.

‘Of course she didn’t!’ snapped Fenella. ‘She’s a brilliant cook!’

‘Maybe she doesn’t want to talk about it,’ said Rupert, pressing down the bread.

‘I hope you’re going to share that fried bread,’ said Zoe, to put off the moment of truth.

‘Of course! I’ll wop it into the oven for a bit to crisp it up and get rid of surplus fat,’ he agreed.

‘I’ll make more tea,’ said Fenella, ‘then Zoe can tell us everything.’

‘Only if she wants to!’ said Rupert, wopping in the bread as promised.

Fenella shook her head, set in her role as bad cop. ‘Sorry, actually you don’t get the choice. You have to tell all.’

‘OK,’ Zoe sighed. ‘Tea and fried bread might be enough to make me spill the beans.’

‘You can have marmalade on it if you like,’ said Rupert, the good cop.

‘That’s all right. I’ll tell.’

‘The thing is – was …’ said Zoe with her mouth full. ‘… Cher had taken photos of me and Gideon together.’

‘How did she get those?’ Fenella’s indignation caused her to slam her mug down on the table and slop tea over the side. ‘We’ve gone to so much trouble to make this place secure and discreet so people can come here and feel relaxed.’

‘She took them while we were foraging in the woods,’ Zoe explained. ‘She didn’t get into the bedrooms or anything.’

Fenella sighed and sat down. ‘Ah.’

‘You were caught frolicking in the woods, were you?’ said Rupert, an eyebrow raised in mock disapproval.

‘We were foraging,’ said Zoe with dignity. ‘But maybe we did have a little kiss.’

‘That’s the absolute pain of mobile phones with cameras on them!’ said Fenella. ‘Look at the trouble they cause!’

‘That said, I’d never take photos at all if I couldn’t do it on my phone,’ said Zoe.

‘True,’ Fenella agreed. She sighed. ‘So, she took photographs. When did you find out?’

‘Not until we were in London before we cooked for the final challenge. She said if I won she’d take the photos to the press – I think she probably knows a paparazzo or something. Anyway, she or her uncle seem to know everyone. And she said it would bring the whole programme into disrepute, which it would, and ruin Gideon’s career too.’

‘What about your career?’ asked Fenella.

Zoe smiled and bit her lip. ‘I don’t think she thought I had one. And, currently, she’s right.’

‘So did you tell Gideon? What did he have to say about it?’ asked Rupert.

‘He was furious. He said I shouldn’t give in to blackmail. But as everything Cher was going to say was true, I didn’t think I had any choice.’

Fenella put a sympathetic finger on Zoe’s arm. ‘And … did you fall out about it?’

Zoe almost laughed. ‘He was incandescent! I couldn’t make him understand that I had no choice. I had to mess up the competition.’

‘I have to say, you could have done it a bit more thoroughly,’ said Rupert. ‘You actually cooked a blinder. That’s what made me so suspicious about the salt thing.’

‘Oh God, I see that now. At the time I just went into the zone – I knew I couldn’t win so I didn’t worry about winning, I just followed my plan. Then I decided what I was going to do to ruin it.’

‘But the others made mistakes too,’ said Rupert. ‘You were consistently the best.’

‘Rupert’s a big fan of cookery competitions,’ Fenella explained. ‘Not sure why.’

‘You’re a big fan of property programmes,’ he countered. ‘I really don’t know how you explain that. It’s not as if we don’t have enough property to cope with here.’

‘But Rupert, do you think people will guess I threw it deliberately? This is worrying!’

‘Everything else did go rather well,’ said Fenella.

‘It’s mad! I know if I’d been trying to win all sorts of things would have gone wrong. I was just so worried that Gideon’s career would be destroyed …’ Her voice slowed as she realised she’d said a lot more than she’d intended. ‘And then I found out about Gideon and realised I’d lost far more than a bloody competition …’

‘I think we need more tea,’ said Fenella, flapping a hand at Rupert but without looking at him. ‘So you really love him?’

Zoe took a deep breath. ‘It was bad enough that he was cross with me but then before I could talk to him about it, I saw them …’ She tailed off, her throat closing up with tears.

‘So you really love him?’ repeated Fen gently.

Zoe nodded. ‘But it’s hopeless. Not only will he never want to speak to me again but he’s married. I may be extremely dumb but I’m not going to waste my life being in love with a married man. Even one who did care about me,’ she added.

Fenella didn’t speak for a few moments. ‘You’re probably wise. But you did seem good together.’

‘For a short while we were, although I could have done without all the guilt and stuff. And that was before I knew about his wife!’

‘And don’t worry about the competition thing,’ said Rupert. ‘Viewers wouldn’t know what a good palate you have.’

Somehow this reassurance made Zoe feel worse. When the baby alarm showed signs of life she leapt to her feet. ‘I’ll go!’

‘She’s not really awake yet! You could leave her a few—’

But Fenella’s words faded as Zoe flew up the stairs, grateful for an excuse to escape.



*

Sarah and Hugo arrived in time for dinner that night. Zoe acted as Rupert’s sous-chef and made several sorts of potatoes and different vegetables. She wanted to keep busy and Glory could only be cuddled for a certain number of hours in the day, given that she had a mother.

They didn’t talk about Zoe’s situation much. They knew it would all be thrashed out later, round the table, with Sarah and Hugo. Zoe felt like a hot-air balloon with no hot air. All the cooking, the worrying, the practising and eventually doing so well had been all for nothing. Now all she had left was the sense that she’d been an utter fool, a silly girl dazzled by an attractive powerful man. Her self-esteem was about as low as it could go. Keeping busy was the only thing that could stop her flinging herself on her bed and sobbing for days.

Rupert’s lavish hospitality meant bottles of champagne and Pimm’s were offered when Sarah and Hugo got there.

‘Have a King Pimm,’ said Rupert. ‘Cava and Pimm’s – less sweet and four times as intoxicating.’

‘I’d rather just have a glass of fizz,’ said Sarah. ‘Pimm’s goes to my head so.’

‘Have proper fizz then. We’ll keep the Cava for the Pimm’s.’

Zoe sipped her glass of champagne slowly. She was too worried to feel remotely celebratory. The jollifications lasted too long for her. She wanted to talk to Sarah and Hugo about her problem: Fenella had been so confident that they would have just the answer and Zoe remembered how interested Sarah had been in her plans before.

Hugo seemed to sense her anxiety and sat down beside her. He asked her gentle questions about the competition, her food and how she chose her menu while the others laughed, got knives and forks on to the table and opened bottles.

‘Don’t worry,’ said Hugo. ‘Sarah has a plan, and if Sarah has a plan, all will be well.’

Sarah’s plan involved a friend with a deli. ‘She’s just taken it over from someone who wasn’t much good at it. She wants to do a complete relaunch.’

This sounded interesting. ‘Oh?’

‘It’s a nice little shop, in a lovely situation in a perfect deli-type town – you know, lots of foodie types who want weird—’

‘Esoteric is the word we prefer,’ said Rupert.

‘Weird ingredients,’ Sarah went on. ‘But she’s got a hell of a lot on. I gave her a ring this afternoon to see if she might fancy a lovely assistant …’

‘And?’ Zoe couldn’t bear the suspense.

‘She fell on my neck, so to speak. She’d love to have you.’

‘But she doesn’t know anything about me!’

Sarah shook her head. ‘I told her you were a good cook, resourceful, and kept your head in a crisis. The only downside is she can only afford to pay you the minimum wage. You’re worth far more but if the business goes the way it should, she’ll be able to offer you more …’

It only took Zoe a second to make up her mind. It sounded perfect. She’d be busy and doing things she loved. It would also be good experience for when she eventually opened her own deli – which she was more determined than ever to save up for. ‘It’s exactly what I want. I don’t mind too much about the money, I just want to be doing something. Hard work is the cure for almost everything!’

‘Good for you!’ said Rupert, putting a large hand on her shoulder.

‘Yes, well done,’ said Hugo.

Zoe put on a smile. ‘So, where is this deli then? Not too far away, I hope.’

‘Oh no, it’s in the Cotswolds.’

‘Whereabouts?’ asked Zoe, pleased to think she’d be in striking distance of home and of Somerby.

‘It’s in Fearnley,’ said Sarah. ‘Just outside—’

But Rupert and Fenella had burst out laughing. ‘We know where Fearnley is!’

‘You do?’ said Zoe. ‘Where is it, then?’

‘It’s where Rupert’s parents live!’ said Fenella, getting hysterical. ‘They’ll probably go into the shop and you’ll be serving them all over again!’

Zoe caught their amusement. ‘Well, at least I know not to serve them peas or beans.’