Recipe for Love

CHAPTER Nine





SHE REALISED SHE must have dozed off when she heard the others talking about her.

‘She’s dead to the world,’ said Fenella, ‘and I didn’t find her anywhere to spend the night.’

‘Not sure where you’d planned,’ said Rupert. ‘There isn’t anywhere. All the rooms are either uninhabitable or full of stuff for the day after tomorrow.’

‘We could just cover her in blankets and leave her here,’ suggested Fenella, but didn’t sound keen. Zoe felt this was a very acceptable option. She was all ready for bed after all. It would be nice not to have to move. She kept her eyes closed.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll look after her,’ said Gideon.

There was a pause – a pause in which Zoe knew she should stir and gently wake up and not continue to eavesdrop.

‘Well, I hope you do,’ said Fenella, sounding stern. ‘I like Zoe.’

‘It’s all right,’ said Gideon, ‘so do I. She can share my bed. As it sleeps six comfortably, she can be perfectly chaste.’ He didn’t point out they’d done it before and she was thankful Fenella and Rupert obviously hadn’t known.

‘It’s not just that,’ Fen went on. ‘She’s a contestant, you’re a judge. If anyone found out, she’d have to leave in disgrace and you might too.’

‘Trust me. I’ll protect her. No one will find out.’

There was a silence. Zoe tried to imagine the concerned glances. Then there was a sigh. ‘I don’t want to make things awkward for you,’ said Gideon eventually.

‘It’s not that …’ said Fenella. ‘Oh – give me the last sandwich and I’ll forgive you.’ There was silence, presumably while Fenella chewed.

Her anxieties seemingly soothed, she went on. ‘Sarah’s coming over tomorrow to make final wedding plans. I do hope your contestants are going to do a good job with the catering,’ she said to Gideon.

‘They’re perfectly capable, and as the TV company is paying for all the food and wine, I don’t think the couple will have cause for complaint.’

‘I know that really,’ Fenella went on and then groaned. It sounded like she was trying to get up. ‘But I still don’t want people having a bad time under my roof.’

‘They won’t.’ Gideon sounded confident. ‘With people like Zoe and Muriel, who are really efficient and jolly good cooks too, there’ll be no problem.’

‘I want to employ Zoe,’ said Fenella. ‘She’d be perfect to take over from me while I’m out of action with Buster here. I’ll ask her in the morning. Heave me up, Scotty, and transport me to bed!’

‘And I’d better take Sleeping Beauty,’ said Gideon.

Another cue for Zoe to wake, but she didn’t want to. She wanted to stay being cared for by Gideon even if it would be embarrassing if he couldn’t lift her. She’d obviously wake up then. But it would really spoil the mood.

Maybe she’d lost weight recently because he got her into his arms without difficulty. But it was very hard for Zoe to stay completely relaxed, lolling her head and relaxing her arms. As they progressed out of the room she suddenly worried in case the position of her head caused her to dribble. She decided if anything like that looked like happening she’d stir, moan a little and say, ‘Where am I?’ She hoped it wouldn’t be necessary. Although it would have been nice to use this famous cliché perfectly genuinely, it would be nicer to be tucked up into Gideon’s bed.

She’d had plenty of time to think about sleeping with Gideon and come to the wicked, foolish conclusion that she was not going to waste this second opportunity. If she could persuade him, with it looking completely natural and as if it was his idea, she would. She had a major crush on him and felt she would regret it for the rest of her life if she didn’t make the most of the situation. And she was in a reckless mood tonight. Nothing seemed to matter but this moment.

Fenella was escorting Gideon and opening the doors. When they reached his bedroom he said, ‘Can you put the bedside light on? And now pull back the cover? Thanks.’

Gideon laid Zoe gently down and pulled up the duvet. It was all she could do not to put her arm over it as she always did, but she thought sudden movement might show that she was awake.

‘I’m not entirely happy about this,’ Fenella whispered.

‘I could put a line of pillows down the middle of the bed if it would make you any happier.’ Zoe could hear that Gideon was smiling.

‘No, you can’t because I’d have to find some pillows and it’s too late for that. Just don’t break her heart!’

‘Aren’t you worried that she’ll break mine?’

‘No. I imagine you’ve got a heart as hard as rock.’

‘I’d like to think that was true, of course.’

Zoe lay so still that if anyone had looked at her they might have thought she was dead. She was willing him to go on, say something more revealing.

‘You mean it isn’t true?’ Fenella was obviously intrigued.

‘As a general rule but in this particular instance …’

Zoe thought she would either stop breathing entirely or burst into some huge noise – a sneeze, a howl, hysterical laughter.

‘I do have a bit of a soft spot,’ Gideon went on. ‘Which means I have to be harder on her than any of the others in the competition. Fortunately she’s good. I couldn’t save her if she was due to go out.’

Zoe wanted to hug herself but kept perfectly still.

‘Well, I’m glad to hear you’ve got morals,’ said Fenella. ‘I’ll say goodnight now. See you for brekkie in the morning. I’ll invent somewhere Zoe could have slept to save her reputation.’

Too late for that, thought Zoe. Cher already thinks I’m sleeping my way to the top. I might as well get some fun out of it even if it does make him harder on me.

To Zoe, waiting anxiously for his return, Gideon seemed to take a long time in the bathroom. When he did emerge he stood over her for a few seconds. Then he adjusted a curl lying on her face – a tender gesture that nearly caused Zoe to scream – got into bed and turned out the light.

This was her moment, she decided. She wriggled a little in her pretend sleep and moved a bit nearer to him.

He seemed to freeze. She inched a little nearer. As he didn’t edge away she did a bit more wriggling.

‘Zoe.’ His voice was quite loud enough to wake her even if she had been asleep.

‘Oh, hello,’ she said, as innocently as she could. ‘Am I having an attack of déjà vu or am I in your bed again?’

‘You are in my bed again and if you don’t go over to your side you may live to regret it.’

She snuggled in closer. ‘I don’t think I will.’

‘You know what will happen? I’m only human. Those pyjamas are very erotic.’

‘Are you sure?’ She put her head on his shoulder. ‘They’re Cath Kidson. I always thought they were very respectable.’

‘Well, you were wrong. And I’m not sure I can cope.’

‘You don’t have to cope. Or at least, you don’t have to cope with …’ Unusually for her, she didn’t know what to say.

‘What are you telling me, Zoe? I need to be very clear.’

‘I’m trying not to have to put it into words.’ Golly, this seducing thing was much harder in real life than it was in the movies!

‘I don’t want you do to anything you’ll regret.’

Gentlemen were harder to deal with than cads. If anyone tried it on with Zoe and she wasn’t keen she had no difficulty in making them understand exactly how she felt. But how was she going to get Gideon to do anything without actually leaping on him?

‘You’re wearing a dressing gown,’ she complained. ‘Do you always go to bed in one?’

‘Only when I’m in bed with you,’ he said.

‘Is this a habit you could break?’ She fingered his lapel.

‘It’s not a habit, it’s a dressing gown.’

It took her a second to get the joke. ‘Very funny.’

‘Zoe, if I take off my dressing gown you know what will happen, don’t you?’

‘Of course! But I’m beginning to think nothing will!’

‘And you want something to?’

‘Should I employ a sky writer to tell you? What else do I have to do?’ She sighed in frustration. ‘I’m obviously not cut out to be a temptress.’

‘Oh, you’re tempting all right, I just—’

‘Listen to me! I want you! I’m in your bed. If you don’t want me just say! If you do – well, it would help if you weren’t wearing half a ton of towelling.’

He chuckled under his breath. ‘OK, I can take a hint …’

Shortly after this the half-ton of towelling and the Cath Kidson pyjamas were on the floor.



The sun was pouring in through the curtains the next morning as Zoe slid out of bed. It was a wrench but she had to think of a way to cover her tracks before the world awoke. The quickest shower on record plus the skimpiest tooth brush and she was on her way downstairs. Gideon was still lying in bed. Zoe had hardly dared even look at him. A tiny glimpse of his body, half under the duvet, his hair rumpled and his beautiful mouth very slightly open made it hard enough to leave. If he stirred and spoke to her she’d have been lost.

She’d like to stay there all morning. She’d never felt like this before and was pretty sure that the bubble in her stomach and her inability to breathe properly was what everyone went on about. She had it bad, she realised. It was wonderful but also slightly scary. She felt so completely thrown, as if she was sickening for something. It was her own fault – entirely. If she hadn’t slept with him she could have kept her emotions in check. But she’d made her decision and now she had to live with it. She also had to make sure her rashness didn’t mean she got thrown out of the competition because her mind wasn’t on her cooking. Or because someone found out what she and Gideon had done. She’d have to make sure beady-eyed Cher couldn’t pin anything on her.

She got back into her pyjamas and crept down the stairs. She stopped as she heard voices in the kitchen. There was nothing for it, she’d just have to brazen it out.

She heard Cher’s voice through the open kitchen door.

‘I came because I was so worried about Zoe. She went off last night because her bed was a bit damp – I think she must have left the window open – and didn’t come back. I wondered what had happened to her.’

Zoe was forced to admire Cher’s acting ability. She sounded quite genuine, although as Zoe had spent the night in the house before and Cher hadn’t worried it obviously wasn’t real concern.

Zoe opened the door before Fenella or Rupert had to say anything that wasn’t quite the truth.

‘Hello, Cher! What are you doing here?’

‘Zoe! I was so worried! What happened to you? Where did you sleep last night?’

So Cher obviously just wanted to catch her out. Zoe said, ‘I don’t know how it happened but I fell asleep on the sofa in the little sitting room. I must have been so tired!’

‘We were having a drink and a snack,’ said Fenella, possibly trying to give the impression that it had been hot milk and digestive biscuits not wine and enormous sandwiches.

‘Yes,’ Zoe went on. ‘One minute I was with Fen and Rupert and the next thing I knew I was covered in blankets. It took me a minute to work out where I was when I woke up.’

‘But you slept OK?’ asked Fenella.

‘Oh yes. That sofa is really comfortable.’

Although none of what she had said was untrue, Zoe felt herself blush. She had fallen asleep on the sofa in the little sitting room, she had wondered where she was when she woke up, but quite a lot had gone on between.

Cher’s eyes narrowed. ‘You’re not stiff or anything?’

‘Why should I be?’ She was a bit stiff actually, but it wasn’t from sleeping on the sofa.

‘Oh, you know how it is when you fall asleep somewhere funny.’

Zoe felt as if Cher could see marks on her body that would betray her but she hadn’t seen any in the shower. ‘Anyway, can’t stay here chatting, I’d better get dressed.’

‘Come back and have breakfast,’ said Rupert. ‘I’m doing a bit of a fry-up. You too, Cher,’ he added.

‘Are you going to grill the bacon?’ Cher asked daintly.

‘No, fry it. The hint is in the name,’ said Rupert, smiling.

‘Agas do great breakfasts,’ said Fenella. ‘Sometimes I do the bacon in the oven but Rupert likes to make fried bread …’

Zoe left the room just as Cher gave a little scream of horror at the thought of carbs and bacon fat in the same toxic mouthful.



When she returned, Gideon was sitting at the table attacking a huge plate of breakfast. He looked up when Zoe came in and winked so quickly no one but she noticed. At least that’s what she hoped. She pulled out a chair. Cher was sitting next to him and she saw her slide a rasher of bacon on to his plate and look up at him coyly.

‘Are you trying to bribe a judge with bacon?’ he asked, looking down at Cher in a way that stabbed Zoe, although she knew perfectly well she had no reason to be jealous. Had she?

‘Of course not. I could never compete with Zoe in that department but I couldn’t eat another scrap.’

To Zoe’s eternal gratitude Rupert came in immediately. ‘But you’ve hardly eaten one scrap! One streaky rasher and a tomato. You won’t be able to get through until lunchtime on that.’

‘Oh, I never eat much. I get full really quickly.’ She looked pointedly at the loaded plate Fenella had put in front of Zoe as she sat down.

‘But you’re a cook,’ said Rupert. ‘Surely you have to taste things?’

‘Only a bit. And I hardly ever eat a full meal.’ She looked across at Zoe. ‘I can’t think why Rupert thinks you need to eat all that.’

Zoe, who had no body issues and never thought much about her weight suddenly felt like a hippopotamus – a loved-up guilty hippopotamus. She stole another look at Gideon. She felt a foot gently touch hers. She couldn’t be sure if it was accidental or not or even Gideon’s but the smile he gave her hinted that it was. Part of her felt a thrill at the danger of it all; part of her wanted to admonish him. There was more than her place in the competition at stake here. ‘I think Rupert is just generous,’ she said.

‘Yes!’ agreed Fenella. ‘He’s a feeder. That’s why I’m so enormous. Cher, what was the weather like when you came over?’

‘It’s clearing up nicely,’ said Cher.

Zoe suddenly felt hugely grateful for the British obsession with the weather.

‘That’s good. With the wedding tomorrow it would be nice if everything could dry off a bit first. Darling?’ Fenella turned to Rupert. ‘Sarah and Hugo will be here in a minute. Is there anything left to feed them on?’

‘About half a pig. Now everyone, what about toast?’

‘Golly, not for me!’ declared Cher as if anyone who wanted toast had to be second cousin to Gargantua. ‘But I’m sure Zoe could fit in a couple of rounds.’

‘I’m still eating sausages, Cher,’ said Zoe, irritated.

‘Well, you are what you eat!’ Cher trilled and Zoe could have kicked herself for giving her the opportunity.

‘Girls,’ said Rupert sternly. ‘No need to bicker.’

As she hadn’t been bickering, Zoe felt aggrieved but accepted he couldn’t just pick on Cher.

‘That was the most amazing breakfast, thank you very much,’ said Zoe. She got up from the table, gathering nearby dirty plates. ‘I’ll just put these in the dishwasher.’

‘You don’t have to,’ said Fenella weakly. ‘There’ll be another lot when Sarah and Hugo get here.’

‘Is that the Sarah Stratford who arranged Carrie Condy’s wedding?’ Cher said. ‘I saw all the pictures. Her dress was amazing.’ She continued to sit while Zoe cleared.

‘Yes,’ said Fenella. ‘It really got us started, didn’t it, Rupes?’

‘Sure did. Zoe, that’s very kind of you.’

‘It’s just habit,’ said Zoe. ‘Now I’d better go and sort out my bed.’

‘Oh, stay and meet Sarah and Hugo,’ said Fenella.

‘We’re meeting them at half past eleven anyway, aren’t we?’ said Zoe, who felt she’d intruded quite enough on Fenella and Rupert.

‘But you’ll get ahead of the game if you stay,’ said Rupert.

‘I’m staying!’ declared Cher. ‘Hugo Marsters is a celebrity photographer.’

Fenella frowned slightly. ‘He is celebrated certainly but I don’t think he takes photos for Hello! magazine.’

‘Oh, whatever,’ said Cher.

Zoe decided she couldn’t cope with watching Cher flirt with this photographer as well as Gideon. Besides, she needed some time on her own to process what had happened and to enjoy the feelings. It had been so, so special. Nothing like that had ever happened to her before. She suddenly got the point; she knew what sex and love were about for the first time.

‘I need to do something about my bed,’ said Zoe, getting up with determination.

‘Well, don’t worry about the mattress, we have spares,’ said Fenella. ‘My lovely cleaning ladies are coming today. They’ll find you a new one and put the wet one in the boiler room to dry.’

‘Great. I’ll drape the bedding about the place.’

‘Really, don’t worry about it.’ It was Fenella being firm now.

But Zoe did tidy up a bit and have a calming walk round the garden before she grabbed her pad and headed towards the reception room where they were all to be briefed on the wedding the next day.



‘Right! Everybody!’ Mike’s rallying call was familiar now but it still made Zoe nervous. ‘Sarah Stratford, who’s in charge of the wedding, is going to tell you what she wants you to do. Sarah?’

The contestants, production and camera crew and the judges were all assembled in the reception room where they’d been first briefed on the competition.

Sarah, who managed to look remarkably efficient at the same time as being slightly nervous about being on television, cleared her throat.

‘Hi there. As Mike says, I’m Sarah and I’m the wedding planner, and I have to confess I’m very anxious about you lot doing the food for a wedding I’m in charge of.’ Her warm smile made everyone laugh, as they were meant to do.

‘It’s a champagne and canapés event, but they have to be substantial. We don’t want everyone falling down drunk after five minutes. That’s scheduled in for later.’

Her audience laughed again.

‘I want you each to make ten sorts of canapé and ten of each kind so we end up with seven hundred. That’ll be ten each for every guest, which should be enough to keep them upright. The wedding is at twelve tomorrow. The couple are getting married here, in the chapel, and so the guests will want feeding at one o’clock. Now I’m going to hand you over to the judges to give you more details.’

There was a ripple of excitement in the room. Weddings tended to have that effect although the men in the group were a little less enthusiastic. Sarah went to join an attractive man standing at the side. He put his arm round her and kissed the top of her head. Zoe assumed it was Hugo. Gideon stepped forward.

‘Right. We want five hot and five cold canapés. You need to think what you want to make, look up recipes etc. and then get your ten canapés passed by any of the three judges or by Sarah. Then you can start cooking, but remember lots of them will need to be very hot out of the oven, or assembled on the day so they don’t go soggy. There are a lot of ingredients here’ – he indicated a long table piled high with food – ‘but if you want anything that isn’t here and you have time to go shopping, feel free. We’ll give you money.’

Cher put her hand up. ‘But what’s to stop us buying a lot of sausage rolls from the shop and just heating them up?’

‘The fact that we’d know you’d done that and you’d be disqualified. Any more questions? No? Fine. Oh, one thing you’ll be pleased to learn: there’s a certain amount of ready-made puff pastry on the table but not enough for everyone. We don’t want too many vol-au-vents.’ Gideon paused. ‘And if we’ve passed something pastry-based for too many people, you’ll have to think of something else. We want variety and originality. Thank you.’

It was terribly hard to think when you were in love, Zoe discovered, but she had to put Gideon out of her mind and just focus. She didn’t bother to join the race to the table to bag the pastry. She got out her notebook and started to write.

Pignatelli, rice balls, beef in Yorkshire puddings, miniature pizzas – not very exciting but vegetarian – frittatas, she wrote. That was five hot canapés. What could she do cold? She had to be quick or other people would get the ideas and then she’d have to think of something else.

After a few minutes frantic thinking and writing, she ran over to the judges.

Anna Fortune took her list. ‘No to beef in Yorkshire puddings, frittatas and if anyone else offers me asparagus with parma ham I shall scream.’

‘Sorry,’ said Zoe, although it wasn’t really her fault.

‘And what are these rice balls?’ Anna regarded her through narrowed eyes.

‘Italian. Ham and cheese with some veg maybe, in rice, deep fried in egg and breadcrumbs.’ She used to do this without the ham quite often for friends. They were tasty and very cheap if you didn’t mind the calories.

‘Arancini,’ said Anna.

‘Or supplì,’ put in Gideon. ‘Elizabeth David called them supplì.’

Just hearing him say ‘Elizabeth David’ made her stomach turn over with lust. Really, it was coming to something if one of the most famous and important names in the culinary world was a trigger for her desire. Just for a nanosecond their eyes met. There was hardly a flicker in his but she knew he was thinking what she was thinking. Oh, he was lovely! she thought, but then realised that lovely as he was, he was a judge and she hardly knew him. In the little time she’d had to herself since their night of passion she had come to the conclusion he probably wasn’t a keeper. Or rather she wasn’t. She’d keep him, no question. But he wouldn’t keep her. She doubted she was more than a diversion for him. Someone who was fun to be with for a while but only while she was there, in front of his nose. But that was OK. She knew that’s how it was. She’d be sad when the competition was over, or rather was over for her, but she wouldn’t regret her affair with him. She would enjoy it to the maximum while it lasted and then move on knowing she’d had a wonderful time with a wonderful lover.

She gave him a very tiny wink, not closing her eye but twitching the corner of it. He responded with one of the same. She felt her mouth move in a betraying smile. She clamped it shut and focused on what Anna was saying to her. It all felt deliciously illicit.

Eventually she was dismissed by Anna. ‘Go and see what ingredients are left and if you can make what you’ve chosen with them, fine. If not, think again!’

There were too many ingredients missing for Zoe to be able to do many of her chosen canapés, which immediately made her wonder if there had been enough food provided – and if there had been, whether Cher had concealed it somewhere. Mind you, given the skimpiness of her outfit it clearly wasn’t up her jumper. Zoe had to change her plans and so one of her cold canapés, using smoked salmon, had to become soup in a shot glass.

There were no shot glasses provided but Zoe had an idea that Fenella might well have some. She had a ridiculous amount of equipment, she had told Zoe. As there was nothing else Zoe could be getting on with, she went over to the house to ask.

She reached the kitchen and found a powwow going on. Sarah, looking tight-lipped and strained, was talking to Fenella and Rupert.

‘I just can’t believe it. This woman is supposed to be reliable – she’s one of the top suppliers in the country according to all the glossy magazines. And to just forget to do it? Does that make sense?’

‘Well …’ Fenella seemed to think it was a possibility.

Not Sarah.

‘The woman is running a business! This cake represents a lot of money! And she’s forgotten to do it!’

‘Don’t get in a fret, old girl,’ said Rupert, ‘I’m sure we can get another one made. Or pop down to Waitrose—’

Fenella and Sarah turned on him. ‘There isn’t time to make a cake that size, let it cool, ice it, decorate it and have it ready by noon tomorrow!’ said Sarah.

As Zoe had listened to this exchange a plan had formed in her mind. She liked challenges and before she could help herself she jumped in. ‘Excuse me,’ she said.

‘What?’ Fenella, usually so placid and helpful, seemed a bit impatient.

Sarah, who Zoe remembered too late was one of the judges for this task, looked as if she was only a second away from snapping Zoe’s head off.

‘Cupcakes,’ said Zoe. ‘We could all make them. I’m brilliant at icing them. Set up a production line and we could get seventy cupcakes done really quickly. We just need the cases, of course.’

Sarah breathed deeply, possibly for the first time for several days. ‘That is a bloody brilliant idea,’ she said eventually, after Zoe had become convinced her head was going to be cut off and used in place of a wedding cake. ‘It’s not what the bride wanted but it’ll save her several hundred pounds and as the dress went way over budget she’ll be grateful.’ She suddenly giggled. ‘Talk about a meringue! She’s got the whole bloody Pavlova!’

‘But what about the competition?’ objected Rupert. ‘If Zoe’s making cupcakes, she won’t be able to focus on her canapés. Just sayin’,’ he finished.

‘I’m a judge! Surely if she makes cupcakes for a wedding cake, for my wedding, she’ll have to go through to the next round.’ Sarah looked at Rupert, her expression more diffident than her determined words. ‘Won’t she?’