Sweetest Thing

by Natasha West

  From the look on Robyn’s face, she was no less thrilled about that than Jodie was. But she was coming over. ‘Hi, sorry, er…’

  ‘You have to share my table,’ Jodie finished for her, trying to keep the disappointment from her voice. She couldn’t understand why it was always so hard to do things alone. Other humans could not seem to bear it, would connive and scheme to see that you didn’t have any peace. ‘Ok, then. Sit down.’

  ‘I’ll be quick,’ Robyn said, planting herself.

  ‘Don’t rush on my account,’ Jodie said, pulling out her phone. She needed somewhere to point her face that wasn’t at Robyn, so as not to encourage chitchat.

  But Robyn wasn’t trying to make conversation. She’d learned her lesson that morning. She was already beckoning a waitress. ‘What’s your quickest meal?’

  ‘I guess… the Caesar salad?’ the waitress told Robyn.

  ‘I’ll have that, then, please.’

  ‘And for you?’ the waitress asked Jodie.

  ‘The steak. Rare.’

  The waitress took drink orders and left them. Jodie went back to her phone, noting that Robyn had done the same. She looked like she was tapping out a text. Her phone buzzed a message, and she replied. That went on for a few minutes, the annoying vibration and Robyn’s digits tapping away. Jodie couldn’t very well complain, she was on her phone too. But she was being a hell of a lot quieter about it, perusing news sites.

  Eventually, enough time had gone by that a person could reasonably expect to receive a Caesar salad. But Robyn was still waiting. She checked her watch. Jodie laughed softly to herself.

  ‘What?’ Robyn asked.

  ‘You really want to eat and get the hell out of here, don’t you?’

  Robyn feigned shock. ‘Oh, what? No, not at all!’

  Jodie shook her head at Robyn, not buying it. ‘We ordered at the same time; they’ll bring it out at the same time because the kitchen will assume we’re eating together unless you’re explicit about it.’

  Robyn frowned; the charade dropped. ‘But I said… Right.’

  ‘Should have come down earlier,’ Jodie told her. ‘Everyone else was here. You could have sat with Dorothy. Or perhaps Darnell, if you’re feeling lonely. Maybe Jen, if that’s your cup of tea,’ she quipped thoughtlessly.

  Robyn raised an eyebrow. ‘What do you mean, ‘My cup of tea?’

  Here Jodie had been trying not to make casual chitchat. And wandered right into an actual question. For someone as anti-social as her, it was a real fuck-up. ‘No, nothing. Forget it.’

  ‘Well, I’m not looking to fraternise like that, if that’s what you’re getting at. Matter of fact, I was trying to… Well, anyway.’

  ‘You were trying to what?’ Jodie asked despite herself.

  Robyn sighed. ‘I wasn’t looking to eat with anyone tonight. I just wanted to bolt something down and go back to my room to look up recipes,’ Robyn admitted.

  Jodie laughed with less restraint. So she and the stuffy woman had something in common, after all. ‘Snap.’

  Robyn smiled moderately. ‘So we were both trying to avoid everyone and in doing so, ended up eating together? Classic.’

  ‘Yep,’ Jodie agreed. ‘I’m glad we can just be honest that we don’t want to be eating together,’ Jodie said plainly.

  ‘If you want to be blunt about it, I suppose,’ Robyn said stiffly.

  ‘That’s exactly what you just said,’ Jodie pointed out. ‘Why are you acting offended all of a sudden.’

  ‘I said I didn’t want to eat with anyone. You said specifically with each other.’

  ‘Not really seeing a difference.’

  Robyn’s nostrils flared. ‘One’s just a bit ruder, that’s all.’

  ‘You’re gonna pretend you don’t dislike me?’ Jodie asked.

  ‘I’m not the one that hates everyone.’

  That surprised Jodie. ‘I don’t hate anyone. I just don’t very much care about them,’ Jodie explained neutrally. ‘It’s nothing personal.’

  ‘Let me guess, you’re not here to make friends?’ Robyn asked cynically.

  ‘You just admitted that you were trying to avoid everyone tonight too,’ Jodie reminded her.

  ‘That’s because I’m… I’m anxious,’ Robyn spat. She looked regretful as soon as it was out of her mouth.

  But Jodie didn’t feel too sorry for her. Because there was a slight problem with that proclamation. ‘Not looking too anxious right now telling me off,’ Jodie told her hotly.

  Robyn began to answer and then closed her mouth. ‘Oh,’ she said, almost to herself. ‘Well…’

  The waitress appeared, bearing dinner. She placed the meals down in front of them and said, ‘Enjoy,’ scuttling off.

  Jodie picked up a fork and dug in. After she’d swallowed her first bite, she looked up to see that Robyn wasn’t eating.

  ‘What’s up, slug in your lettuce?’ Jodie asked her, taking a sip of wine.

  ‘Is this what you do? Wind people up?’ Robyn asked hotly.

  ‘I wanted a quiet meal,’ Jodie told her. She meant it. She didn’t know why she was now having this row with a stranger. It wasn’t really her thing. She stayed outside of this type of crap. Drama. She’d sworn she wasn’t going to get involved in any on this blasted show if that was something they wanted. Technically, she’d kept her promise. She was having a drama off the clock. ‘Look, tell you what, I’ll get this boxed up and take it back to my room, and we can just pretend this never happened,’ Jodie said, tiredly.

  ‘No, you were here first, I’ll do that,’ Robyn said. She spotted the waitress. ‘Can I take this to my room?’

  The waitress took her plate away and came back with it moments later, wrapped in clingfilm. ‘There you are, madam.’

  Robyn stood, taking the plate. ‘Enjoy your evening,’ she said dryly to Jodie and stomped out.

  Jodie sat back in her chair, sighing in wonder. What the hell had just happened?

  Seven

  Day two of the shoot and everyone was waiting outside the hotel for the show’s transportation to come and fetch them. Robyn was careful to stand as far from Jodie as she could without tipping anyone off to any weirdness.

  ‘You ready for today?’ Dorothy asked.

  ‘I don’t really know how to be ready for today,’ Robyn admitted. As much as she’d tried to prepare and research, the point of the second and final challenge of the week was the element of surprise. They would all be given a selection of ingredients and a vague brief, and then they were expected to conjure up the best thing they could with only a little time to figure out a plan. It had been explained to them by Madeline that the show came at them from two angles. ‘What’s the best you can create when it’s your way, and what’s your best when it’s ours?’

  So today, Robyn was going to be taken by surprise, a thing she wasn’t enormously keen on at the best of times. Her friend Stacey had once arranged a surprise party for her and when everyone had jumped out and yelled ‘Surprise!’, Robyn burst into tears from the shock. So improvisation wasn’t really Robyn’s wheelhouse. Even when she created her own spin on recipes, she wasn’t messing around. It came from a lot of previous experience, implemented carefully. Because she wasn’t about to spend three hours baking a cake to have it come out inedible, even mediocrity wasn’t acceptable. Yesterday’s unevenness had barely been tolerable, but she’d put it down to variables that she didn’t have at home; a new kitchen, a camera in her face, the stress of competition.

  But that wouldn’t cut it today. If she baked something bad, she couldn’t very well plead to Adam Silton that she found the oven confusing, could she? So she’d done her best to try and figure out some manner of a plan. After all, she knew she was making some kind of muffin today, so that narrowed things down a bit. Still, her confidence was about sea-level.

  ‘I wouldn’t worry, love,’ Dorothy assured her, a grandmotherly hand on her arm. ‘We’re all in the same boat.’

  ‘Easy for you to say,’ R
obyn said kindly. ‘You did brilliantly yesterday.’

  ‘That doesn’t mean anything. Even a stopped clock tells the right time twice a day,’ Dorothy chuckled.

  ‘Very modest. But I’ve got a feeling you’re going to be great today too. How long have you been baking?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. About forty-five years, give or take?’

  Robyn laughed. ‘I’ve been doing it for about eight years. I don’t stand a chance.’

  ‘You just do your best. Don’t worry about anyone else,’ Dorothy told her.

  Robyn found her eyes stray to Jodie, standing on the kerb, arms crossed, that usual taciturn look on her absurdly symmetrical face. ‘I’ll try.’ Robyn was still peeved about last night. That woman rubbed her the wrong way, no doubt. So superior. It had to be an act.

  What was not an act was that she was probably going to whip Robyn’s arse today. Was that what annoyed Robyn so much? Was she just jealous of a skilled baker who might be better than her? Whatever it was that pissed her off so much, Robyn was sure she’d put her finger on it eventually.

  ***

  ‘Nuts,’ Matt whispered.

  ‘Nuts?’ Reuben repeated fretfully.

  ‘Nuts,’ Matt confirmed. ‘I saw the teleprompter thing when the girl was scrolling down it while I nipped out for a piss. Any flavour muffin you like, but it has to have nuts in it.

  Matt was attempting to whisper this piece of information to Reuben, but Robyn heard him. Everyone in the green room did. Nut muffins. Alright.

  Yesterday, Robyn had been scared. Today she was… still crapping herself but hopeful too. She wondered if something like this, the greatest challenge of her adult life, might not be the making of her. Because that fear that coursed through her body, it hadn’t stopped her. She’d baked, she’d taken the judgement, and she was here today to try again. She hadn’t run. That scared little voice in her head that told her she wasn’t good enough had lost the battle. Robyn wondered if it might be in her to really kick its little arse. For good.

  ***

  Madeline had done her to-camera piece to introduce the challenge, and now she turned to the contestants, positioned at their stations, and said, ‘Right, bakers, are you ready to hear what you’re making today?’

  There was a murmur of yeses, though they all knew.

  ‘Well, today you’ll be making… nut muffins!’

  Robyn had a look around at people’s faces and they might as well have opened a piece of post to discover a coupon for ten pence off toothpaste.

  ‘Cut!’ shouted Madeline. She took a step toward the bakers. ‘Err, guys, I… I need a bit more surprise than that.’ Rueful expressions abounded. Madeline scrutinised the group carefully. ‘Right.’ She looked to the crew. ‘Did someone leak the challenge? Because if you did, you’ve just mucked up a shot.’

  The crew exchanged looks amongst themselves. ‘Come on, who was it?’ Madeline demanded.

  Dorothy coughed. ‘Err, Madeline, don’t be mad at them. I think…’

  Matt looked alarmed.

  ‘I think one of us might have seen it on the camera with the scrolling words,’ Dorothy went on.

  ‘Who?’ Madeline asked, annoyed.

  But Dorothy wasn’t talking. No one was.

  ‘No one’s gonna tell me, then?’ Madeline asked. No one said anything. Robyn felt like she was twelve, the teacher trying to find out who’d drawn a dick and balls on the chalkboard. ‘Fine. But I need you to do that shot again, and please can you do better at acting surprised?’

  The stage manager yelled, ‘Reset!’ and the crew snapped into positions. ‘Action!’

  Madeline stepped back to her spot, slapped a cheery look on her face. She looked at the contestants like they hadn’t gotten her riled up a second ago. ‘Well, today you’ll be making… nut muffins!’

  Everyone in the room took the instruction too far. Shocked gasps, pearl-clutching, wide eyes, it was a ridiculous reaction. Darnell was the worst, slapping his own face in imitation-shock. Robyn knew that even though she’d been one of the more muted reactors, even she had taken it too far, saying, ‘Nut muffins? Reeeeeally?’ They were all behaving with a level of shock more appropriate to finding out you’ve been cut out of a close relative’s will.

  Of course, one person did nothing more than raise one eyebrow. Robyn should have known Jodie would never lower herself to the requested charade.

  Madeline shot a look at the stage manager and he yelled, ‘Cut!’ Madeline took a deep breath and addressed the studio with all the patience she could muster. ‘I think we might have to try that one more time. What I want are responses halfway between what you all just did and your first reaction. OK?’

  They went for it again, and this time people managed to look just a bit surprised, and Madeline ran on with her piece, introducing a table full of ingredients to be used. In addition to the usual flour, butter, and sugar, there was a selection of other things. White and dark chocolate, vanilla, strawberries, oranges, coffee beans, lemon, as well as just about every nut Robyn had ever heard of. Then she laid eyes on another fruit, and Robyn stopped cataloguing because she knew what she was going to do. It just hit her around the head, simple and tasty. She would get every last muffin right this time, and they would be delicious, or Robyn was going to throw a plate across the studio. Well, no, she wouldn’t do that really, that was crazy. But she might snap a wooden spoon when no one was looking.

  ***

  Adam picked up a muffin. ‘So this is banana nut muffin crunch?’ he asked.

  ‘That’s right,’ Robyn answered quietly. It was something she’d once seen on a baking blog and bookmarked as interesting. Still, she’d never gotten around to making it until today.

  Adam bit into the muffin and worked it around his mouth. He began to nod his head, pleased. ‘Mmm.’ Imogen wasn’t far behind, taking a large bite and asking through a mouthful, ‘Is that vanilla I detect?’

  Robyn was less quiet with this answer. ‘That’s right, yes,’ she said happily. She knew the muffins were good. She’d baked thirteen of them this time (like a good baker was supposed to) and eaten one while she waited for judgment, and if she said so herself, it was bloody delicious.

  Adam finished his mouthful and said, ‘That’s excellent. Just the right crumble, good balance of flavours, the banana’s not too overpowering. I like the crunchy element on the top. Nice bake.’

  And off they went. Robyn felt like she might grow wings and fly up to the roof of the studio, bursting through and jetting through the clouds on wings of pure approval.

  Things got even better a moment later. Adam and Imogen tried the last batch, Jodie’s. They were pecan and maple syrup muffins and Adam immediately said, ‘I can’t really taste the maple.’ Imogen added, ‘I have to agree.’

  Robyn watched as Jodie’s face stayed in its usual neutral repose. But she could swear her mouth twitched.

  ***

  The judges had been gone for half an hour, in deliberation. Robyn wasn’t enormously worried. She’d had one good bake, one middling one. She didn’t think she’d be the one sent home today. She thought that would probably come down to Reuben, Jen, Matt, or Sanjay, who had either taken too big of a swing on flavour or simply muffed the bake through basic error.

  Eventually, they were all gathered in a row in front of the kitchen islands and told to wait for the final decision, the lights glaring, the cameras rolling, ready to capture high emotion.

  Madeline came out with the judges, stony-faced, as though about to hand down the order for execution. ‘So, time to appoint a top baker for the week, as well as the sad job of sending someone home. The judges have thought long and hard, and they’ve decided that top baker goes to… Dorothy!’

  Dorothy gasped, and everyone clapped. It wasn’t a huge surprise. Dorothy had been most consistent across the two challenges, bringing it home today with cinnamon walnut muffins.

  ‘And now for the less pleasant part of my job. The person going home today is… Matt.’ />
  Matt groaned and Dorothy rushed to him as though he’d been shot, hugging him tightly. Robyn went over too, genuinely sorry. He was a bit laddie and mouthy, but she felt his pain ‘Sorry, Matt.’