by Julie Caplin
‘Hmm,’ said Bella, tilting the book this way and that.
‘It’s hard to make it come alive on paper.’
‘Mmm,’ agreed Bella.
‘It will work.’
‘Yes, but how are you going to convince the happy couple?’
‘How would you feel if I mocked one up? A smaller version.’
‘That would work. Could you do it this weekend? I’ll email the guy and see if he can come here to see it. And I can take photos for my gallery. You’re going to need a hell of a lot of those silver balls. I’d better get onto the wholesaler. This job will certainly keep you quiet over the weekend!’
‘That’s the idea,’ said Sophie grimly. ‘You don’t mind if I work in the kitchen?’
By three o’clock on Sunday, Sophie’s hands had almost cramped into a permanent lobster claw.
‘I wish I’d never started this,’ she moaned, her hands gripping a pair of tweezers, when Bella popped in with Wes.
‘Jeez Louise, it’s like a fairy hailstorm visited,’ said Wes, surveying the floor.
‘They’re slippery little devils,’ said Sophie with feeling.
‘You should have just chucked the balls over the cake,’ observed Bella.
‘Then it wouldn’t look right, or special,’ snapped Sophie, immediately feeling guilty – but seriously, this was so romantic, it had to be perfect. ‘Some would overlap, some wouldn’t stick, it would have bald patches.’
‘Sorry,’ said Bella. ‘Why don’t you take a break? Have you eaten?’
Sophie shook her head, looking a little frantically at the clock. ‘You did say six, didn’t you?’
‘Yes, but I can always ring and put them back.’ The groom was due to bring his bride to see the cake today.
‘No, I thought you said it was the only night both of them could do.’
‘Yes, but you’ve got another three hours. You’ve been at this since nine. You need a break.’
‘I daren’t, the icing is starting to harden off. And I’ve only got the last third of the top tier to do.’
Making the cake had been the easy part. She’d made three mini-sized ones, each an inch bigger in radius than the next, yesterday morning. It still stood thirty centimetres tall. Yesterday afternoon Bella had helped her to assemble them one on top of the other, strengthening each cake with dowelling and a hidden platform, so that the weight of the top two cakes wouldn’t sink into the base. The icing had been more problematic as it had to be exactly the right consistency, firm enough to ensure that the silver dragee balls stayed put and didn’t slide down or sink, and soft enough that it didn’t harden off while she was still working on the decorations.
Each silver ball had to be applied with a pair of tweezers, as the silver dust came off the balls if they were touched. Sophie suspected she looked as if she might be related to the fairy godmother, she was so covered in silver dust.
‘At least have a coffee and a muffin,’ said Bella firmly. ‘And let me carry on.’
Sophie hesitated. Was she being too possessive? With each silver ball, she’d thought of a special memory. The early cakes she’d made with her mum. The day her dad took the stabilisers off her bike. Her first published article. Her first kiss. Her first kiss with Todd. The first time they’d gone to bed. The day on the beach at Coney Island. The day on Jones Beach. So many reasons to be happy. So many treasured memories that she’d always hold dear. Todd might be out of reach but he’d shown her how to live. He’d given her a new way of looking at life. He’d given her Brooklyn.
‘Hello … Sophie, come back to me.’ Bella snatched the tweezers out of her hand. ‘You can trust me! For goodness’ sake, girl, take a seat and a caffeine hit. Wes, make her.’
‘Don’t involve me,’ he rumbled, holding up his hands in mock surrender.
‘I promise I won’t mess it up. You need a break.’
Sophie took a seat and watched like an over-protective mother as Bella took over.
‘Darn it! These things are like … oh darn it, I’ve dropped another one. Whose bright idea was this?’
Sophie flexed her cramped hand and laughed at Bella’s comical dismay. ‘Wait until you’ve been at it for a few hours.’
‘I’d have run out of patience about thirty seconds in.’
In fact Bella’s patience ran out after about ten minutes, which being perfectly honest, Sophie was rather pleased about.
Sophie placed the final few balls into place and stepped back. It looked stunning. Simple but so effective.
‘It’s amazing,’ said Bella, ‘I take it all back, I’d never have believed how beautiful it is. This is definitely special.’
‘I think so. I hope she likes it. You’d better keep any sharp implements out of reach, just in case.’
‘How could she not love it?’
‘She’d better, I’ve put my heart and soul into this one. It really is my cake.’ Tears welled up in her eyes at the thought of each of the thousands of silver balls that she’d evenly placed exactly a fraction of a space from each other.
‘Right. We have one last job to do,’ announced Bella.
Sophie looked confused.
‘This is a work of art, you can’t leave it in here. We’ll take it through to the bakery. I’ve had Wes do some work.’
‘We need to move it,’ he said. ‘Let’s hope we don’t drop it.’
‘Don’t even say that,’ Sophie shuddered. It didn’t bear thinking about.
They carefully lifted the cake onto the trolley that Bella kept for this very purpose and pushed it through into the other room.
‘Oh wow.’ Wes had done an amazing job, stringing several lots of fairy lights around the walls of the far corner. All the furniture had been moved away with the exception of one circular table which Bella had covered with a pure-white damask tablecloth. ‘It looks fab in here. It’s going to set the cake off beautifully.’
Sophie let Bella lift it onto the little table and Wes switched out the main lights.
Like a gorgeous silver star, the cake twinkled in the fairy lights. Sophie clasped her hands together and let out a tiny gasp. ‘It’s perfect.’ Her heart flipped over at the beautiful sight and she blinked back tears.
‘Well, whoever the couple are, I bloody hope they love each other to bits,’ she said fiercely.
Wes and Bella came and flanked her.
Bella squeezed her arm. ‘It is beautiful and so romantic. And listen to that, bang on time. I’ll get the door.’
They’d agreed that Sophie would present the cake and Bella would talk money and dates. Even if the couple didn’t like it, Bella had arranged for some professional shots to be taken on Monday that she’d use on her website.
Wes melted away into the kitchen as Sophie lingered, giving the cake one last look. She could hear Bella unlocking the café door and talking in a low voice.
Then a shadow moved through the café towards her.
She waited, twisting her hands, suddenly anxious. What if they didn’t like the cake? The shadow came closer and stepped into the circle of light, the tiny bulbs suddenly illuminating his face.
‘Todd!’
‘Sophie,’ he said quietly.
Where was Bella? She looked at her watch.
‘We’re about to have a meeting with …’ her voice trailed away. With a slow smile, his eyes never leaving hers, he stepped forward and took her hand.
‘That is one hell of a cake.’
‘It is,’ said Sophie, proud of every last inch of it.
‘And exactly what I asked for.’
‘Oh,’ her mouth dropped open, she scarcely dared breathe as she looked at the cake and then back at him. Hope bubbled, singing in her veins. Her eyes widened, as she stared at him.
He lifted her hand to his mouth. ‘I want to give you,’ he gently kissed each knuckle with each word, ‘the sun, the moon and the stars,’ he said, holding her hand, his eyes never leaving her face. ‘You make my world a brighter place and my life is infinitely be
tter when you’re at my side.’
His softly spoken words warmed her from the inside out and she couldn’t bring herself to say anything, in case her brain had short-circuited and she wasn’t understanding properly.
She frowned, scared she might have it wrong.
With gentle fingers he soothed the line away.
‘English, I love you. I don’t deserve you but I know you love me,’ he gave her a lopsided smile, ‘and I’m taking it.’
It was such a magical moment, she didn’t want to spoil it. Instead she squeezed his fingers, her eyes locked on his, letting all the love in her heart pour out.
‘And our spectacular wedding cake is absolutely perfect.’ His voice was so soft, her heart stalled and she stared up at him, wide eyed, scarcely daring to believe in case she’d misheard.
‘Ours?’ she asked in a breathless whisper.
He nodded. ‘It’s beautiful. Starlight and love. A million stars to wish upon.’
Her lips curved. ‘Romantic.’
‘I can do more.’
‘For how long?’ she asked softly, clutching his hand, praying she hadn’t got this wrong.
‘How about forever?’
‘Forever’s a long time.’
‘All or nothing. I want it all.’
‘You want to get married?’ Sophie’s whisper was incredulous.
He nodded and then a playful twinkle danced in his eyes. ‘There is a proviso … it has to be to you.’
‘Why?’ asked Sophie, still not quite able to believe that this gorgeous man wanted her.
He looked startled and then he looked at the cake. ‘Because you’re the moon and the stars in my life and I can’t live without you any longer.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Never been surer of anything in my life.’
‘But …’ she frowned.
‘I love you.’ He gave her a giddy smile. ‘Proper love.’ He touched her arm as if to reassure himself that she hadn’t run away. ‘The sort of love that you read about in books, hear about in songs. The sort of love that’s selfless. The sort of love that you’ve given me. That you offered me unconditionally even when I didn’t think I could give it back. You took a risk saying it. You were right, I was a coward. I spent all weekend thinking about what you’d said. Even discussed it with Marty. He thinks you’re cool, by the way.’
‘Pleased to hear it.’ She smiled up at him.
‘All week I kept trying to think of reasons why I didn’t want to be with you. And I could only think of reasons why I wanted to be with you. The harder I tried to think of reasons, the more I wanted to see you.’
‘And what about your harem?’
‘Given them up.’
‘What about …?’
‘What about kissing me, Sophie, and agreeing to spend the rest of your life with me?’
With a teary smile, she gazed up at him. ‘Sounds like a plan.’
Keep reading for an exclusive look at book three, Nina’s story…
Chapter 1
Stamping her sore and tired feet on the gravelled surface trying to get some warmth into them, Nina looked at her phone for the ninety-fifth time in ten minutes, almost dropping it. Where the heck was Nick? Fifteen minutes late already and her fingers were about to snap off, adding to her general sense of misery. Standing here at the back entrance to the kitchens in the staff carpark there was little protection from the biting wind whistling around the sandstone manor house and certainly none from the bleak thoughts in her head.
‘Hey Nina, are you sure you don’t want to come to the club?’ asked Marcela, one of the other waitresses, in her heavily accented voice, winding her car window down as she backed with some speed out of one of the spaces. ‘Say goodbye to Sukie with some dancing and fun?’
‘No,’ she shook her head, ‘it’s alright thanks. My brother’s on his way.’ At least he had better be. Nina wished she was in the little steamed up car with Marcela and the other two staff members, and almost laughed at the rather annoying irony. Mum had insisted Nick pick her up so that she’d know Nina was safe and here she was standing on her own in a car park in the pitch black about to be completely on her own.
‘OK then. See you in eight weeks’ time.’
‘Ha!’ Piped up a gloomy East European voice from the back seat, Tomas the sommelier, a perennial pessimist. ‘You think the builders finish on schedule.’
A good-natured chorus shouted him down.
‘See you soon, Nina.’ They all waved and shouted their goodbyes, Marcela winding the window back up as the ancient Polo roared away as if she couldn’t wait to escape the end of her shift and put up her feet. Which was exactly what Nina was hoping to do, if her brother ever got here.
At last she spotted the headlights speeding down the drive towards her. This had to be Nick. Nearly everyone else had gone. With a speedy gravel-crunching turn, the car pulled to a halt in front of Nina.
She yanked the door open.
‘Hi Sis. You been waiting long? Soz, sheep emergency.’
‘Yes,’ snapped Nina scrambling in grateful for the heat of the car. ‘It’s bloody freezing out there. I’ll be so glad when my car’s fixed.’
‘Tell me about it. It took me all the way here to thaw out. Friggin sheep. There was a ewe stuck in the wire fencing up on the moor road. I had to stop and help the stupid creature.’
Was it really churlish to think that the sheep had a nice woolly coat while she was in a skirt and tights on a cold February evening?
‘So how was it? The last night,’ asked Nick, leaning down and turning the radio off, which had been blaring football commentary at full blast. ‘And did your mate get a good send off?’
‘Fine. Bit sad as we all won’t see each other for a while. And Sukie will be in New York.’
‘New York. That’s a bit of change.’
‘She’s a brilliant chef. Going places.’
‘Clearly. To New York. And what’s everyone else doing?’
‘The regular staff are being redeployed and having lots of training.’
‘Seems a bit unfair. Why not you?’
‘Because I’m just on a casual contract, I guess.’
‘Well I’m sure we can find you a few extra hours at the farm shop as well as in the café. And Dan can give you a bit of work at the brewery. Gail might pay you for some babysitting and George can ask in the petrol station, they’re always needing extra staff. Although that’s late hours, so possibly not.’
Nina closed her eyes. She was absolutely certain that everyone in the family would pitch in to find something for poor Nina to do while the Bodenbroke Manor Restaurant was closed for refurbishment, whether she liked it or not. It wasn’t that she was ungrateful, they all meant well, but she was a grown up, she was quite capable of finding work without the vast tentacles of her family network spreading their reach on her behalf. She loved her family to bits, she really did but…
‘What’s with the huffing and puffing?’ asked Nick, turning his head to look her way.
‘Nothing,’ said Nina, closing her eyes. ‘Holy moly I’m tired. My feet feel like they’ve been stomped on by a dozen elephants.’
‘Wuss,’ teased Nick.
‘I’ve been on the go since nine o’clock this morning,’ said Nina. ‘And the restaurant was rammed. I didn’t even get lunch.’
‘That’s not on. You should say something.’
‘It’s not that easy. Everyone’s busy. There wasn’t time for a proper break.’
‘Don’t tell me you haven’t eaten anything today?’
Nina shrugged, she’d rushed out without breakfast, much to her mother’s consternation. ‘A little.’ Her stomach rumbled rather inconveniently at the very moment as if to dispute her answer. Clearly it didn’t think that a bread roll and a slice of cheese constituted enough.
Nick frowned heavily. ‘Even so. Do you want me to say something to the manager, when they re-open?’
‘No, it’s fine. We’ll be having dinner
when we get home.’
‘Well it isn’t–’
‘You don’t work there, you don’t understand.’ Nina’s voice rose in heat. Typical Nick, assuming that he knew best.
‘I don’t need to understand. There are labour laws. You’re entitled to breaks. It’s-’
Whatever he was about to say was interrupted by the timely horn fanfare ringtone of his phone booming out through the radio on his handsfree set up.
‘Nick Hadley,’ he said pressing the accept call button on the dash board.
Nina slumped back in her chair, relieved at the interruption, it gave her the perfect opportunity to close her eyes, tune out and pretend to doze for the rest of the way home.
‘Hey Shep, how’re the socks?’ Her brother was often referred to as Shep, short for shepherd.
Nina tensed, every sinew locking into place at the sound of familiar mocking voice.
‘All good. How are you Knifeman? Still supporting that shite excuse for a rugby team?’ And apparently Knifeman was the not-so clever nickname for a chef.
‘No words mate. They were a bloody shout against France. And I paid good money for tickets.’
‘What you went to Stade de France? You jammy git.’
‘Not so jammy when the buggers lost.’
‘Fancy coming over for the Calcutta Cup? You don’t want to be too long in France you might pick up some bad habits.’
‘Slight problem there.’
‘What?’ asked Nick.
‘I’m laid up. That’s why I’m ringing you.’
Nina pressed her lips together in what some might call a snarky smile. Sebastian clearly had no idea she was there and she didn’t want him to either. Listening to this ridiculous conversation, no one would ever know they were grown men rather than a pair of adolescents, which would be the obvious inference. She definitely did not want to remember Sebastian as a teenager or how she’d made a complete dick of herself over him. Unfortunately having a teenage crush on your brother’s best friend is possibly the worst thing you could do because ten years on, even now, someone in the family would occasionally bring it up.