by Susan Willis
***
‘The bloody cheek of him!’ Susan exclaimed loudly. ‘What’s his game, then? Coming on to you for weeks and then because you don’t win – he’s crawling after the young girl?’
But why didn’t I win, she thought gloomily sitting in the cubicle listening to Susan rant. Jessica had already said she would have given me first prize, therefore it had to be David who thought Gemma’s cake was the best. She couldn’t ever remember feeling so disappointed with herself – she’d lost the fight and young Gemma had waltzed off with the award and the man. Nicola nodded and agreed with everything Susan was saying while they washed their hands. She plastered the false smile back on her face and swallowed hard trying to hold back her tears – all she wanted now was to go home and lick her wounds.
***
When they arrived back in the hall, Jay left to join his friends then Susan bid her farewell just as Simon reappeared.
‘Come and have a drink with me?’ he asked earnestly. ‘I’ve been chatting to Jessica and have news to tell you…’
‘Oh, Simon, I’m bushed,’ she said but then saw his shoulders slump in disappointment and she relented. ‘Okay, then, just a quick one…’
They left the hall together and went down the grand staircase and out onto the pavement. Suddenly, at the sound of heels on the wooden stairs they both turned to see Gemma running past them and out towards a young guy. Nicola thought he looked like a Greek god as Gemma kissed him full on the lips, jumped into his Mazda and they sped away from the roadside.
‘Ha!’ she snorted raising her eyebrows at Simon. ‘David isn’t going to get anywhere with her at the Savoy. After all the flirting he’s done – she actually has a boyfriend!’
‘Come on, let’s get that gin and tonic – I think we deserve it.’
***
While Simon stood at the bar in the same pub they’d been in last week Nicola sighed gazing across at the table where she’d sat next to David. She remembered how he’d flirted with her and rubbed his leg against hers – how could she have misread those actions and got it so wrong, she thought gloomily.
Simon joined her, handed her a glass and they both took big gulps. ‘I just wanted to tell you that reading between the lines from what Jessica told me – although she didn’t actually say the words – there was quite a bit of arguing and disagreement between her and David about the prizes.’
Nicola leaned towards him eagerly. ‘Go on,’ she asked mystified.
Simon paused. ‘Apparently, Jessica wanted to give your tart first prize, and then me and Gemma tied in second. And, if she’d really been pushed, she would have given my pudding second over the lavender cake because she thought the flavour profile was a little too sweet for her.’
‘Really?’ Nicola asked, digesting the information.
He nodded and then grinned bashfully. ‘I can’t believe she actually liked my pudding that much.’
He looks like a little boy, she thought, getting a good exam mark. ‘Well, I can,’ she said, feeling pleased that Simon had at last got some recognition. She took a deep breath. ‘So that means David definitely overruled Jessica’s decision?’
Simon nodded gravely. ‘I think it proves David is the moron I’ve thought he was from day one. And he awarded the lavender cake first prize because he wants young Gemma on his arm to take to London…’
She gasped with surprise at Simon’s reaction and then thought of what she’d seen in the corridor with Susan – she lowered her head and told him what they’d heard.
‘You could contest the decision with the programme bosses or the director.’
She shook her head. ‘Nah, I’ll just let it go. I couldn’t stand the aggravation.’
Imagining Gemma hanging onto David’s arm in the Savoy, she puffed her cheeks and blustered. ‘There’s no way Gemma will be interested in him now she’s got herself that gorgeous hunk of a boyfriend – it bloody well serves David right!’
Simon sat back in the chair, folded his arms and stared at her.
She had become used to his mannerisms over the weeks and could tell he was mulling something over in his mind. ‘What?’ she asked tilting her head to one side. ‘What are you thinking about?’
‘I’m trying to decide whether to tell you about Gemma and what I learnt earlier in the hall.’
She leaned towards him. ‘Simon, you have to now,’ she implored patting the back of his left hand. For the first time she noticed there was a white band-mark on his brown, fourth finger where he’d obviously removed his wedding ring.
He sipped his drink and told her about Gemma’s neglectful childhood and parents. ‘I think that’s why she seems desperate to please everyone all of the time. The poor thing must be starved of any type of affection and was clamouring for our attention.’
Nicola pressed her hands against her flaming cheeks and felt a cold shiver of shame and regret flood through her. She gulped, remembering the awful thoughts she’d had about Gemma and lowered her chin to her chest.
‘To use one of Jay’s expressions – I feel crap,’ she muttered. ‘I haven’t been very nice to her, I’m afraid. In fact, I’ve behaved like a, well, like…’
She was flustered, unable to think of a word to describe the unreasonable jealousy she’d conjured up against Gemma.
Simon volunteered, ‘A rival?’ he said. ‘There’s nothing wrong in being competitive.’
She smiled at him gratefully and relaxed back in her chair. He was without doubt one of the kindest men she’d ever known. Even when she was trying to admit her failings he was still making them sound reasonable and just.
But she knew deep down that her treatment of Gemma had been shameful and when she thought about the girl’s terrible upbringing in comparison to the way she’d spoilt her own son it made her shudder. The only way she would feel better about this situation would be to try and make amends. ‘Maybe I could get Gemma’s number and ask her to my house for dinner,’ she said. ‘She could meet Jay, and although he’s younger than her – he could take her into Newcastle to the pubs and clubs where she might make more friends?’
Simon nodded, ‘Good idea. But I do think David is to blame for much of this misunderstanding. I’ve known what type of man he is since the first time he walked into the kitchen. He’s shallow and conceited enough to think that any woman would fall at his feet. Which really, for a man of his age to chase after such a young girl, is nothing short of ridiculous. In fact, I think it’s quite sad in a way…’
She nodded, slowly digesting his words. ‘Yes, you’re right enough there,’ she said, feeling tears of humiliation burn in her throat. And, she thought miserably, she’d been one of them by playing right into his hands. She raged with herself thinking how crazy she must have been to think a guy as good looking as him could ever fancy her. She cringed with shame when she remembered how besotted she’d been and how she’d swooned about him to Susan. If Susan was here now she would tell her to count her blessings that she’d found out his true character before it went any further – which Nicola knew was sensible.
She gazed across the room avoiding Simon’s eyes. But when had she ever been sensible around good looking men? She’d been taken in again, she decided, and then wondered when she would ever learn that good looks were only superficial.
‘David is nothing but a tanned, pathetic creep,’ she muttered, fiddling with a beer mat on the table.
She couldn’t bear to look up at him. ‘And I’ve been a complete idiot. I thought the first week he was interested in me and I stupidly tried to look more trendy and young for him,’ she pouted. ‘I even tortured myself trying to change the shape of my bum by wearing support knickers, and wearing this push-up bra just hoping he’d notice me.’
She felt his finger lifting her chin and she looked up into his eyes.
He grinned at her. ‘I happen to be particularly fond of your bottom – I’ve watched it bending over the bench and oven for days now. And that blouse is very enticing,’ he teased.
/> She swallowed the ball of emotion gathering in her throat and couldn’t stop herself from giggling. The bubbles in the tonic water ran up her nose making her eyes water. ‘Oh, stop it,’ she sniffed.
He pulled a large white handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her. ‘That’s better – I hate to see you look unhappy. And, if you really want to go to the Savoy – I’d be glad to take you because in my eyes, and Jessica Gallagher’s, you are the real winner of the bake off…’
His genuine smile lit up his whole face and she noticed his lovely deep brown eyes. Wow, she thought, blowing her nose – why had she not noticed them before? She felt as if she was looking at him for the first time and knew she liked what she saw – he certainly was a sexy guy. Maybe she’d been so wrapped up in David-the-creep, she decided, that she hadn’t noticed him in that way. She stared into his eyes and took a deep breath.
He beamed at her and held the strong eye contact. ‘Nicola,’ he said. ‘I’m a bit out of practice with this but will you have dinner with me one night?’
Dreamily, she smiled and nodded. She parted her lips as feelings of desire ran through her body. ‘I’d love to,’ she said, hoping he was going to kiss her.
He cleared his throat. ‘Thank God – I’ve wanted to ask you that since the day I picked you up off your knees in the car park.’
She stared longingly at his lips and he lowered his head to cover her lips with his mouth. Responding to his kiss she wrapped her arms around his neck – maybe she’d been the overall winner after all, she decided.
Recipes from the Final of The Bake Off
I hope you enjoyed reading The Bake Off. To make the three final bakes – Sicilian Summer Lemon Tart, Lavender Polenta Cake with Violet Frosting, and White Chocolate and Raspberry Bread and Butter Pudding – just follow these simple recipes by my good friend, Samuel Goldsmith.
White Chocolate and Raspberry Bread and Butter Pudding
One of the ultimate combinations: white chocolate and raspberry. Combined with a bread and butter pudding it gives a contemporary feel to a traditional dessert.
8 slices of white bread
50g butter, softened
100g white chocolate, chopped
225g raspberries
284ml double cream
250ml full fat milk
3 eggs
1 tsp vanilla extract
2 tbsp sugar
Butter the bread on one side and cut each slice into four triangles. Lay half of the bread on the bottom of a ovenproof dish (roughly 10 x 8 inches). You will need to overlap them. Sprinkle over half of the chocolate and raspberries and cover with the remaining bread, overlapping again. Measure the cream and milk in a jug and then beat in the eggs, vanilla extract and sugar. Carefully pour over the bread and allow to soak for 20-30 minutes. Scatter over the remaining chocolate and raspberries and bake in a pre-heated oven at 180C/gas mark 4 for 20–30 minutes or until the custard is set. Serve warm.
Lavender and Polenta Cake with Violet Frosting
Perfect served with an afternoon tea; you can glam it up by slicing it in half lengthways and adding an extra layer of frosting and sprinkling over some crystallized violets, or fresh if you have them. It can also be served without the frosting for those who have less of a sweet tooth.
250g butter, softened
250g caster sugar
2 tbsp lavender
½ tsp lavender extract
1 tsp vanilla extract
3 eggs
200g, self-raising flour
100g polenta
50 ground almonds
½ tsp baking powder
Frosting
100g butter, softened
150g icing sugar
¼ – ½ tsp violet syrup
Cream the butter and sugar together until light and fluffy (this means until it is almost white and meringue like – usually takes about 10 minutes in an electric mixer). Sprinkle in the lavender and lavender and vanilla extracts.
In a medium-large bowl mix the flour, polenta, almonds and baking powder together.
Add one third of the flour mixture in with the creamed mixture and mix until combined.
Beat in one of the eggs into the butter mixture and follow with another third of the flour mixture and continue this process until the eggs and flour mixture have been used up. Mix until combined.
Pour the mixture in to an 8-inch, deep cake tin and bake in a preheated oven (180C/gas mark 4) for 40 minutes or until a knife comes out clean (this may take slightly longer, time varies even when using the same oven).
Allow cake to cool in the tin for 5 minutes before removing to a cooling rack to cool completely.
Beat together the butter, sifted icing sugar and a teaspoon of warm water. Mix in the violet syrup to taste; brands differ so it’s important not to add too much all in one go. Spread the frosting over the top of the cake and serve.
Sicilian Lemon Tart
It’s really important for a lemon tart to be tart, not only in the sense that it has pastry but also it should give a real zing in the mouth. Reducing the lemon juice helps to give it this zing. When you’re making the pastry be sure to handle it as little as possible, you’re more likely to get a better result in a food processor because there is less heat being given off which should result in a shorter texture.
Pastry
75g butter, cold
125g plain flour
1 egg yolk
40g caster sugar
1 lemon, zested and juiced (keep the juice for the filling)
Filling
4 eggs
2 egg yolks
6 lemons, all juiced and 3 zested
300ml double cream
250g caster sugar
First of all, make the pastry. Rub the butter in to the flour until you reach a breadcrumb like texture then mix in the caster sugar and lemon zest. Make a well, add the yolk in to the centre and mix it through. It is unlikely that this will be enough to combine the mixture in to a dough so add a little cold water ( ½ tsp at a time, you should need no more than a couple of teaspoons) until the dough has combined – you can, of course, do all this in a food processor. Refrigerate for 10 minutes. Roll out on a lightly floured surface until it is big enough to line a 20cm tart tin. Line the tin (don’t worry if it’s a little crumbly when you roll it out just patch it together in the tin), make a few holes in the base with a fork and place back in the fridge for 10 minutes. Pre-heat the oven to 180C/160C (fan)/gas mark 4, remove pastry case from the fridge and line with greaseproof paper and baking beans (or a suitable alternative) and bake for 10 minutes. Remove the baking beans and foil and bake for a further 7 minutes. The pastry should be a biscuit-like colour and cooked through , if it’s not place back in for a few more minutes.
Filling time. Juice the lemons (zest 3 of them first otherwise you’ll find it tricky later) and add to the juice kept over from the pastry. Reduce the juice by a third (you should end up with around 175ml juice) by boiling over a high heat. Leave to cool. Whisk the eggs, yolks, cream and caster sugar together until combined and then mix in the cooled lemon juice, pass through a sieve if you think it looks lumpy, and then mix in the lemon zest. Place the custard mix in to a saucepan and heat over a low to medium heat, stirring continuously until you have reached a lemon curd like consistency. Pour in to the ready-made pastry case. If you’re feeling confident you can sprinkle over a couple of tablespoons of sugar and grill/blow torch the tart to give a caramelised topping.
If you enjoyed reading The Bake Off you may be interested in A Taste of Love, also published by Endeavour Press.
Extract from A Taste of Love by Susan Willis
Chapter One
On Thursday evening as Helen waited in the factory car park for her husband, Rob, she looked up to a spring sky full of cloud – it was the last week of March and she felt glad to have the cold winter weather behind her. She checked her watch hoping Rob wouldn’t be too late as the garage doing the MOT on her own car closed at six o’
clock. Then she saw his red BMW tearing up the road towards her – Rob Walker always did everything at break-neck speed.
He spun around in the car park and she opened the passenger door. ‘Hi, thanks for not being late,’ she said, climbing into the car. She felt a sharp sting on the side of her thigh and yelped. ‘Aah, what the hell?’ She put her hand onto the area of her trousers where she’d felt the pain and pulled the spike of a large tortoiseshell earring from the thin crêpe material. Holding the earring between her fingers she thrust it in front of his face and glared at him.
His face blanched. ‘What?’ he asked defensively, stiffening his shoulders. His eyes were darting around the car as though he was looking for an exit.
She couldn’t believe he would do this again and felt her whole body tense with anger. ‘Well, it’s not my earring,’ she spat. ‘And I’m quite sure it doesn’t belong to our daughter. So whose is it, Rob?’
He put his foot down on the accelerator and drove out of the car park. ‘Look, don’t start. It probably belongs to one of the girls from work I gave a lift to last week…’
Wrinkling her nose in disgust she opened the glove compartment and threw the earring into it as though it was scalding her fingers. Dear God, who is it this time, she thought, staring blankly out of the window while they travelled in silence throughout the short drive into Acton town centre.
He pulled up outside the garage and she opened the car door. Cautiously, he put his head to one side and gave her a tentative smile. ‘Shall I hang on here just in case your car isn’t ready?’
She looked over her shoulder as she swung her long legs out of the car and remembered how she’d fallen in love with that smile when they’d first met. But now she hated it with a passion. ‘No, just go home,’ she snapped. ‘We’ll talk when I get back.’
The car mechanic hurried out to greet her as Rob sped away from the forecourt. He explained the results of the MOT while she followed him into the office, not particularly listening, and paid the bill with her credit card. Then she settled herself into her own smart Honda Civic and drove out onto the road, automatically turning the car left to head towards their home in West Acton.