by N/A
She glanced around her suite, so tropical and bright, but the ambience was spoiled by the bibliographic paraphernalia scattered around the floor. So much for her resolution to reign in her untidy tenancies. Poppy would be disappointed. She leapt out of bed, gathered up the cookery books and piled them neatly on her bedside table. Next, she scooped up her discarded clothes and hung them in the wardrobe before collecting her toiletries and lining them up, Zach-style, along the glass shelf in the bathroom.
Better, she sighed, contemplating taking a quick snap to send to Poppy to prove to her that she was a reformed character. But her friend deserved more than a swift text and she resolved to call her that night before she went to sleep.
After a refreshing shower, she grabbed a short tartan skirt, black roll-necked sweater and woolly tights, and slotted her toes into a pair of Gucci-style flats. She fluffed up her curls and, with minimum attention to makeup, galloped along the corridor to the top of the stairs where she paused, a crazy thought running through her mind.
Could she? She knew Leo and Mike would be sequestered in the library on their business calls and she had seen Gina and Marianne drive away in Leo’s Mercedes for the highly anticipated Christmas shopping trip to Cheltenham over an hour ago. It was the perfect opportunity to indulge in a childhood fantasy.
She took a quick glance over her shoulder to see if anyone was lurking in the shadows of the split gallery landing, then cocked her leg over the banister. She was about to let go when she recalled Claudia’s story about Dexter breaking his wrists whilst doing precisely what she intended to do. But the tickertape of trepidation was interrupted by Zach’s voice urging her to go for it, to try everything once and see where it took her, so she gritted her teeth and let go. The sense of exhilaration as she slid all the way to the bottom was huge, despite landing in an undignified heap on the parquet flooring.
As she picked herself up, triumph whipping through her chest, Zach’s laughing face floated across her vision. Her newly acquired adventurous streak was purely down to his encouragement, whether it be zip-lining through the rainforest, riding on the back of a snow mobile, or learning how to move on from heartbreak and contemplate the possibility of falling in love again - as scary as that had once seemed after the debacle with Luke.
She filed away that last possibility for later contemplation because she and Claudia had a jam-packed morning of culinary preparation to do for that afternoon’s tutorial on creating the most sumptuous Christmassy-themed afternoon tea. She had just set the kettle to boil and scooped a generous measure of freshly ground coffee into the cafetière when Claudia arrived in the kitchen, one of her signature scarves tied around her neck, this one screaming the colours of the St Lucian flag; sunshine yellow, cerulean blue and black.
“Morning, Millie. Did you sleep well?”
“Better than ever, thanks. I really wish I could wrap up the Hummingbird Suite and take it home with me to London. I feel so relaxed here. Stonelea Manor is an amazing place.”
“Thanks, darling.”
Claudia turned away from Millie on the pretext of collecting a freshly laundered apron, but Millie knew her emotions had got the better of her friend again.
“Claudia…”
“Sorry, don’t mind me. I’m fine. Nothing a session in the kitchen won’t cure. Come on, let’s get cracking!”
Millie spent the next two hours responding to Claudia’s directions, and storing away every nugget of advice for future reference in case her dream of becoming a cookery course presenter came true. She chopped, sliced, peeled and weighed out six separate sets of the ingredients they would need to prepare the Cotswolds Cookery School’s take on a festive High Tea. Bowls of sliced cucumber, egg mayonnaise with a generous sprinkle of paprika, thinly sliced roast beef and home-made horseradish sauce, and grated carrot and fresh hummus for the sandwich fillings. Orange and lemon zest pastry for the miniature St. Clements mince pies, ingredients for the cranberry-and-white chocolate cupcake recipe from Mrs Carter ready to be whisked up and baked in the tiny terracotta pots, and everything they needed to make a batch of Claudia’s famous date-and-walnut scones.
“That didn’t take long!” smiled Claudia, licking a splodge of whipped Irish whiskey cream from her finger. “So, what do you think about adding a French twist to the patisserie?”
“I’d love to!”
A surge of delight rushed through Millie, excited to be given the opportunity to showcase her talents to Claudia. With practised ease, she rustled up a selection of apple and calvados profiteroles, fruit tarts with champagne jelly sprinkled with popping candy, and, as a tribute to St Lucia, a dozen Marquise au Chocolat - mini circular chocolate mousses covered in chocolate ganache and topped with hazelnuts and a dark chocolate leaf.
“Wow! What a colourful array of desserts. I can’t wait to taste them all!”
“There’s one more recipe I’d like to include. Do we have time?”
“Of course! What do you have planned?”
“Could I do a Provençale twist on the Gallette des Rois?”
“Ah, the Cake of the Three Kings.”
“Actually, at home in the south of France we always celebrate the feast of Epiphany with a Gateau or Brioche des Rois. Mum uses an old family recipe with candied orange peel, crushed pistachios and cinnamon. Jen and I loved them because instead of the standard broad bean hidden as a charm inside, Mum would hide a tiny porcelain fairy that belonged to her great-grandmother. Whoever finds it in their slice gets to wear the silver crown and carry the fairy’s silver wand!”
“That sounds like a lovely family tradition, Millie.” Then Claudia chuckled. “Did you read about the Parisian baker whose twist on the Gallette des Rois was a little more risqué last year?”
“I did,” giggled Millie. “Not sure I’d rush to buy patisserie in the shape of a penis, though!”
When Millie finally paused to take stock of their labours she sighed with contentment at the cornucopia of culinary excellence. Suddenly, it was two o’clock and Gina and Marianne were tumbling into the kitchen, their hands full of Christmas goodies, chattering away about their morning of retail therapy in the designer boutiques of Cheltenham.
“We had the most amazing time!” declared Gina, her cheeks rosy with pleasure as she tied her apron strings around her slender waist and attached a set of cute reindeer antlers to her head. “I’ve even managed to get Leo a gift that I know he’s going to love. But best of all, I found a bottle of vintage port for his mother. Maybe a few generous glasses might smooth away the rough edges of her sarcasm, and I’m sure she’ll benefit from it too!”
Leo and Mike joined them and the second day’s tutorial got underway. Millie was gratified at the way she and Claudia complemented each other, knowing instinctively when to give way to the other, or to step in to add a piece of advice or assist with a fiddlesome task.
Time flew by and before she knew it they were gathered around the table next to the French doors, clutching glasses of Champagne, staring at the assortment of sandwiches, freshly baked scones and the most dazzling array of patisserie. Everything looked wonderful showcased on the triple-tiered cake stands decorated with holly leaves and red berries, together with Claudia’s best china teacups, saucers and plates with cathedral candles in silver lanterns, as they lined up for a group photograph.
Laughter and merriment rolled around the kitchen as they dug in, welcoming Tim when he arrived in the kitchen in search of a coffee after scrubbing up and looking every inch the handsome City architect in a lavender cashmere sweater, the cuffs of his white Jermyn Street shirt poking out to reveal a pair of silver compass cufflinks. He exchanged a brief complicit smile with Millie. She hadn’t mentioned his accident the previous day to Claudia and he was clearly sending her a silent thank you for her discretion.
“This is the best cookery course I’ve been on!” declared Marianne, tucking her curls behind her ears as she selected one of Millie’s exotic fruit tartlets. “And I am somewhat of an expert in
that arena, aren’t I, Mike?”
“You are, darling,” he smirked, rolling his eyes at Leo. “What number are you up to now?”
“Let me see. I’ve been on an Italian desserts course with Mario Bartelli in April, An Indian Odyssey with Rav Patel in May, then there was that vegetarian one in July at Hillard Castle which was amazing. Oh, and the Spanish tapas one in August. Claudia, we did try to book on your chocolate lover’s course in St Lucia and were so upset that it was fully booked that I had to make sure Mike reserved the Festive Feast course here in the Cotswolds immediately so we didn’t miss out. Will you be running another cocoa-themed course in the Caribbean next year?”
“Absolutely! In fact, we’re already taking bookings for the end of January. Tim and I will be going out there after the new year celebrations to start getting the villa organised for guests who want to stay as well as attend the courses.”
“And we’ll be adding tours of the cocoa planation, too, if you’re interested,” continued Tim, smiling at his wife with such affection that Millie experienced a nip of envy. She wished she could meet someone who loved her as much as Tim loved Claudia.
“A tour?” asked Marianne, pausing in her attempt to devour a profiterole whole.
“Yes. The villa used to be an old plantation house and is surrounded by cocoa palms that Tim and I and our estate manager over there have been nurturing back to health after years of neglect. The beans grown on the plantation are of exceptionally high quality. One day I hope to harvest them in sufficient quantities to make my own chocolate which I’ll use in the recipes I showcase at the Paradise Cookery School.”
“The Paradise Cookery School? Ah, what a wonderful name!” sighed Gina. “Count Leo and I in too, Claudia - so that’s four bookings already!”
Claudia sent a smile across the table to Tim who nodded back as he sipped on his coffee. Perhaps their new venture would be just as successful as the Cotswolds Cookery School had been with the added bonus of the sunshine and a spectacular view of the Caribbean Sea.
“Of course,” laughed Claudia and Millie was happy to see her friend’s features relax. “Okay now. If everyone’s had their fill, why don’t you leave the clearing up to Millie and I and retire with your drinks to the library.”
“Leo has promised to take us for a few drinks at The Flying Fox pub in the village, haven’t you dear?”
“I have,” smiled Leo, the creases in his forehead much less defined now that his morning of stress-filled legal negotiations was behind him. “Why don’t you join us?”
“Thanks for the offer,” said Tim, coming to Claudia’s rescue, knowing that all she wanted to do was put her feet up after a busy day in the kitchen. “If you don’t mind we’ll take a rain-check. Maybe Millie could join you, though?”
“Oh, erm, no, actually I’ve already got a…” She had almost said date but changed her explanation to “…dinner invitation tonight.”
“No problem,” said Leo, pushing himself up from the table. “See you tomorrow for the main event, then. I’m really looking forward to discovering the secrets of producing the perfect Christmas lunch. What time do we need to be on parade, Claudia?”
“Shall we say ten a.m. sharp? Tim will be up with the larks to put the turkey in the oven, but you will be doing everything else. We’ll eat at two o’clock.”
“Fabulous.”
Millie accepted the warm hugs of thanks from the four students and made a start on the clearing up until Claudia grabbed her arm laughing.
“Okay, Mysterious Millie. Tell me who the lucky guy is?”
“What do you… Oh, no, it’s just… I’m just popping over to the lodge for a Spag Bol, that’s all.” She tried to appear nonchalant, but she knew that her glowing cheeks were a dead giveaway.
“I’m delighted you and Zach are cultivating the spark of friendship that ignited in St Lucia,” said Claudia, beaming as she collected her into a spontaneous hug that lasted a little longer than Millie had expected. When she pulled back she could see tears glistening in Claudia’s eyes. “I was a little concerned about him after Chloe left and he jumped at the chance to the swap with Jake when Jake wanted to come back to the UK while his mother was in hospital. I thought Zach was running away, but it turned out to be the best six months of his career.”
“Claudia, Zach’s told me about the manor. I’m so, so sorry. I know how much the place means to you both. If there’s anything I can do to help, however small, then please ask.”
“Oh, Millie, you are an angel, but unless you have a few spare million in your back pocket then I’m afraid it’s already a done deal. Did you also hear that Dexter’s arriving on Thursday afternoon with Sven Andersen for a viewing?”
“I did.”
“I don’t mind admitting that it’ll be one of the most difficult encounters of my life. Well, apart from one.” Claudia’s eyes clouded for the briefest of moments. “Would you believe what my idiot of a cousin has asked us to do?”
“What?”
“Apparently, Sven is one of those crazy minimalist fanatics who like smooth white walls, clean lines and a clutter-free environment, and loathes any kind of extraneous furnishings that don’t have a designer’s signature scrawled on the bottom. My lovely childhood sidekick has told me to make sure the house is stripped of all its personality, so our buyer can envisage how his home in the English countryside can reflected his Scandinavian tastes. I’ve decluttered the lounge and dining room, there’s nothing more I can do in the library, and the kitchen is almost sorted. Thankfully the switch to brunch on Thursday had worked in our favour, so once that’s over I can clear everything away into the pantry ready for his visit at three.”
Now Millie understood why there had been very little attempt at decorating the kitchen with a kaleidoscope of Christmas adornments for the Festive Feast course that year. It would all have had to be removed for Sven’s visit.
“Claudia. How do you feel about losing the manor?”
“Of course, I’m devastated,” she said, her voice tight as she set about wiping down the worktops with a vengeance. “But Tim is right, as always. It costs an absolute fortune to maintain the building, and we’ll be able to use our share of the proceeds to invest in the Paradise Cookery School and that fills me with a lovely buzz of excitement. And I can’t wait to see Ella again. All those emails and photographs you sent me from the Chocolate & Confetti course when I was laid up in hospital really fired my creative juices again. And there’s been lots of interest in the courses, not only from the UK, but also from food lovers in America. My publisher has shown an interest in a Caribbean-themed cookery book, too – so really, it’s all good.”
Claudia gave Millie a bright confident smile, but there remained a shadow of sadness in the depths of her eyes. “Anyway, off you go. Get ready for your date and send my love to Zach. I hear you met his mother yesterday.
“Zach’s mother? No.”
“Oh, I thought Tim said you’d been to Kate’s Kitchen in the village.”
“Yes, we had a hot chocolate and a piece of very heavy parkin.” Millie looked at Claudia as the cogs began to turn causing the muscles in her stomach to clench with panic. “Oh my God, no!”
“You didn’t know that Kate was Zach’s mother?”
“No! No, I did not. Oh God!”
Claudia giggled. “What’s the matter?”
“I think she might have overheard me saying her cakes were lard-laden and artery-clogging.”
Millie felt the heat glow in her cheeks and spread down to her chest as mortification zoomed though the catacombs of her brain. She met Claudia’s gaze until her new friend and mentor burst into laughter and the two of them descended into a whirl of hilarity until tears, this time of mirth, streamed down their faces.
“Oh God, Zach must hate me!”
“I don’t think that’s the way I would describe Zach’s feelings for you, Millie,” said Claudia her expression suddenly becoming more serious. “In fact, I’d hazard a guess that you co
uldn’t be farther from the truth.”
Chapter Eleven
Millie made her way down the driveway towards Zach’s home clutching a bottle of Tim’s best Claret that Claudia had pressed on her with a knowing smile. Her Wellington boots were two sizes too big for her and looked ridiculous paired with her scarlet Karen Millen dress and the long gold necklace that Claudia had urged her to wear. She had always been a sun worshipper – her wardrobe was stuffed to bursting with spaghetti-strapped tops, denim shorts and Capri trousers, sparkly flip-flops and brightly coloured sarongs. She had never owned a pair of boots in her life, but perhaps now was the time to rectify that. Something else she had to work on changing.
Nerves tingled at her fingertips and not only because she intended to confront Zach about keeping the fact that Kate was his mother a secret. Her chat with Claudia in the kitchen earlier had made her realise beyond doubt that her feelings for Zach had moved on well past the friendship stage. Also, from her past experiences of spending time with Zach in the Caribbean, she wouldn’t be surprised if she found him waiting on the doorstep ready to whisk her away for a night out at the greyhound track, or a climbing wall, or a choir recital at the cathedral.
But wasn’t that exactly what she loved about him? That he continually challenged her to live life outside her comfort zone? That she should grab every opportunity to experience new and exciting things?
A maelstrom of emotions churned in her chest; excitement, nerves, anticipation, but also in the mix were sadness and regret that now she had met someone she would love to spend more time with, he was more than likely to be about to leave the country - par for the course as far as her love life was concerned.
A covering of snow lingered, but there had been no fresh falls and she could still see the mound of white where she had built her replica of Binks. She looked around to see if she could spot Zach’s artistic contribution to Snow Sculpture of the Year but couldn’t see over the wall into his back garden. She knocked on the door of the lodge and her spirits soared when she heard a bark of welcome.