The Sunshine And Biscotti Club

by Jenny Oliver

  And of course Jake had come downstairs after her, because that’s the kind of thing he did. He took control of situations. He smoothed over cracks. He’d leaned in the doorway and said, ‘We’re sorry. We’re thoughtless, pig-headed arseholes.’

  She knew he didn’t really mean a word of it but it had made her feel better. It had made her smile when he’d taken a seat and looked down at the plates in front of him with a frown—at the split cream; the burnt, cracked pavlova; the liquid, unset, failed ice cream—and said, with a quirk of his brow, ‘This all looks excellent.’

  ‘It’s been a disaster,’ she’d said.

  ‘Nah.’ He’d sat back in his chair, hands behind his head, a grin on his lips. ‘It’s just the beginning. Teething problems,’ he’d said, then he’d taken a swipe of the melted ice cream and popped it in his mouth. ‘Might look like shit but it tastes amazing.’

  She’d frowned at the half-compliment. He’d sat forward and tucked her hair behind her ear in the kind of clichéd trademark move that Jake managed to pull off to perfection, and said, ‘You’re going to be amazing, Libby. Because it will never be worse than this,’ and she had felt for the first time that someone completely believed in her. In retrospect she realised it was probably just a line to get her into bed. But from that moment on, she had felt stronger when he was next to her.

  And there had been more supper clubs. Hundreds more. They’d built a business out of it. And Jake had taken over as host—greeting the guests, entertaining them over canapés, topping up wines, tipping back in his chair and observing as she put the plates down in front of them, detailing the subtle touches that gave her mini venison wellingtons their hint of caramel, or explaining the origin of a bouillabaisse and how hers also included the often overlooked sea urchin and spider crab. He would subtly nudge her on the thigh if he thought she was going on too much and say something like, ‘We’re here for the food, darling, not the science bit.’ And the guests would chuckle as he winked at her or gave her a quick pat on the bum.

  Libby was better when she could do things in her own time. When she could delete and edit. She wasn’t a spontaneous ice breaker or joke cracker.

  ‘Ready when you are, Libby,’ Jimmy said, snapping her into the present. ‘I can’t actually remember the last time I cooked anything.’

  ‘What do you eat?’ Jessica asked, glancing up, perplexed. ‘Do you gnaw on raw fish grabbed with your bare hands from the ocean?’

  Jimmy did a self-assured chuckle. ‘I grab them, CeeCee cooks them.’

  Jessica sighed. ‘Oh god, who the hell’s CeeCee?’

  ‘She lives with me on the boat.’

  Eve reached forward and picked up the laminated recipe sheet Libby had laid out on every bench. She glanced casually over the type as if she wasn’t really listening but gave herself away by saying, ‘As in, she’s your girlfriend?’

  Jessica glanced from Eve to Jimmy, a brow raised, a slight smile on her lips. She moved her recipe to the side so she could perch up on the bench.

  Jimmy tilted his head to one side. ‘We have no need for formal ownership descriptions.’

  Jessica snorted. ‘Oh, Jimmy, you’re not serious?’

  ‘I am!’ He grinned. ‘We have a boat, we live on it, both of us are free to come and go as we please.’

  ‘Who owns the boat?’ Dex asked.

  Jimmy paused. ‘She owns the boat,’ he said with a shrug.

  Jessica laughed. ‘I bet she does.’

  Libby found herself anxious to stop the chat, unable to enjoy it because this was meant to be a class. She could see Giulia tapping her fingers on the surface at the back.

  ‘So if this CeeCee wasn’t there when you got back, you wouldn’t mind?’ Eve asked, putting her recipe sheet down on the bench, unable to hide her interest.

  ‘Well, technically he’d have to mind because the boat would be gone too,’ said Jessica.

  Jimmy shrugged. ‘As I say, free to come and go as we please.’

  ‘No ties,’ Eve said.

  Jimmy shook his head with a smile. ‘None. At the moment we are in each other’s lives. In six months maybe we won’t be. Come on,’ he said, holding his hands out wide, ‘you gotta admit that’s a more interesting way to live?’

  Eve’s phone rang. She looked surprised by the interruption and then started to rummage through her bag on the floor. ‘Oh, that’s me. Where is it? God. Hi, Noah! Everything OK?’

  As Eve admired another Lego dinosaur on FaceTime, Jessica took the opportunity to get her phone out again, saying, ‘I just need to reply to a couple of emails.’

  Jimmy leant back on his stool and started saying something to Dex that made him laugh loudly. Miles turned to see what was being said.

  ‘Are we going to cook or not?’ snapped Giulia, and they all seemed to remember where they were.

  ‘Yes! Yes, we are, sorry,’ Libby said, cringing at what it all must seem like to Giulia. She imagined Jake watching, rolling his eyes. She was confident that he would have somehow effortlessly combined the cooking and the banter.

  Eve whispered goodbye to Noah and hung up the phone. Jessica, never good at being told what to do, sucked in her cheeks as if she’d been reprimanded by the head teacher and gave Giulia a glare before putting her phone back in her pocket.

  ‘OK, something really simple today, nothing taxing at all. We’re going to start with the humble biscotti.’

  ‘Oh, I like that,’ said Jimmy. ‘Ties in nicely with the name. Good one.’

  Libby nodded. ‘That’s what I was hoping. You know, people would arrive, maybe be a bit tired, and it’d be a nice introduction to the whole thing. Not daunting.’

  Giulia sighed from the back row. ‘The baking. Yes. More baking, less talking. We get it done, I get back to work.’

  Eve giggled under her breath.

  ‘Yes, sorry,’ said Libby. ‘Sorry, Giulia.’ She made a mental note to try not to include her in any of her future classes. ‘Right, so you’ve got a choice here. I’ve given you the basic ingredients but you can flavour your biscotti however you like. I like dried apricots but you can use chocolate, pistachio—traditionally it was aniseed and hazelnut—it’s completely up to you. Or just make it plain. The main thing to a biscotti, and actually the meaning behind its name, is that it’s twice baked.’

  ‘Do I like biscotti?’ asked Jimmy.

  ‘Yes,’ said Eve, without looking up from where she had started to break her eggs. Libby caught Jessica’s eye. Eve glanced up and caught them sharing a look. She raised a brow in silent question and both Libby and Jessica looked away.

  ‘Hang on, Eve’s started.’ Jimmy frowned. ‘How has Eve started? Are we meant to have started?’

  ‘Well, you can start, Jimmy, because there’s a recipe, but I’ll talk you through it.’

  ‘Jessica, have you started?’

  ‘No.’ Jessica was eating an apricot.

  ‘And I am almost finished,’ added Giulia from the back. ‘This is very easy. Too easy I think. Far too easy.’

  ‘It is?’ Jimmy looked confused.

  ‘OK, right, everyone, go with me on this. We’re mixing flour, baking powder and sugar. The measurements are on your recipes and the ingredients are under your benches.’

  Jessica leant forward on the bench, resting on her elbows, and perused the recipe. Next to her Eve had already started mixing in the eggs. Jimmy was looking perplexed at the ingredients and, without consulting the recipe at all, ripped open a bag of flour so it mushroomed out like a cloud in front of his face.

  ‘Suits you,’ Dex said, nodding towards Jimmy’s white face.

  Jimmy groaned and wiped the flour away with a tea towel. ‘Libby, it’s no good. I don’t think I’m cut out for this.’

  ‘You’ll be fine, honestly, I’ll come and help,’ Libby said, coming to stand next to him. Jimmy pulled up his stool and she realised, as she started to measure out his ingredients, that he had no intention of doing any more himself. ‘Jimmy, what flavour do you wan
t?’

  He shrugged. ‘Don’t know.’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘Look, you have to help me.’

  ‘I’ll just mess it up,’ he said with a twinkling grin.

  ‘But the whole point is that you learn. Here, get your hands in and mix this into a dough,’ she said, sliding the bowl over to where he was sitting.

  Jimmy made a face to suggest he was being hard done by.

  In front of them Miles rubbed his eyes, stopped what he was doing, and said, ‘Libby, I’m sorry but I think I’m going to have to go and sit down. I feel rough.’

  Libby nodded. ‘OK, that’s fine.’

  Jimmy followed him out of the door with longing eyes.

  ‘I’m quite tired, actually,’ said Dex. ‘Can I go outside?’

  Jessica scoffed. ‘Tired? You didn’t do anything today.’

  Dex ignored her.

  ‘Look,’ Libby said, tearing off some baking parchment for Jimmy’s biscotti. ‘No one is forcing you to be here. If you don’t want to do it, you are more than welcome to go outside.’ She didn’t mean a word of it. She was hoping that they would stay just because they knew it meant something to her.

  But Jimmy and Dex immediately abandoned their posts, ditched their aprons, and raced out of the door, throwing themselves onto the pink metal chairs next to Miles.

  Libby took in a breath. It was fine. She scooped out Jimmy’s mixture and smoothed it onto the baking tray in little strips.

  ‘I actually have an email that I have to answer so if we’re not carrying on with this then I just need to go out and, you know, answer …’ Jessica said, untying her apron and leaving hesitantly, unsure if it was allowed or not.

  Eve had gone back to her workstation and Libby could feel her watching. She did everything she could to hold in her disappointment. And, in an attempt to overcompensate, her voice came out far too sweet as she said, ‘Seriously, it’s fine. Go. No probs at all.’ Then she did a big wide smile as she slotted Jimmy’s biscotti into the oven.

  Eve stayed where she was but her phone was buzzing on the table with another FaceTime.

  ‘Noah, I can’t talk right now,’ Libby heard her whisper. ‘Yes, it’s very nice. Very good. You’re very clever.’

  Then there was a slam of an oven door and Giulia marched to the front, muttering, ‘I am finished with this. A complete waste of my time. There is no cooking being done. I have work to do. My biscotti are in the oven.’

  Libby felt the same crushing disappointment of that first ever supper club. ‘OK, well, probably best to just end it there, don’t you think? Call it a day,’ she said, keeping her voice emotionless and breezy even though Eve was the only one left in the room to hear.

  Then Libby pulled her phone out of her pocket and took a couple of snaps for Instagram. Of Jimmy’s biscotti in the oven. Of them all lounging outside soaking up the late afternoon sun: A well-earned break while the biscotti bake.

  EVE

  ‘So what the hell’s Jake playing at?’ Eve asked. They were still sitting on the pink metal chairs in front of the outhouse. Dex had been to the bar and come back with a bottle of vodka, ice, and some glasses. The biscotti that Libby had made for Jimmy sat on a plate in the centre of the table. Libby wasn’t with them. She hadn’t come back from the main hotel since the class had been cancelled.

  Eve knew she should have gone to find her. She knew she was upset. But the idea of it felt awkward, like she’d pat her on the shoulder and not quite know what to say. She wasn’t confident enough that her presence would be of any comfort at all.

  Dex sat back with his vodka, the ice chinking in the glass. ‘Jake will do whatever he thinks he can get away with.’

  Miles sat forward, elbows on his knees, his fingers steepled in front of him. ‘I just can’t believe he was stupid enough to do it online.’

  Jimmy huffed a laugh. ‘Oh, come on, this is Jake.’

  Eve reached to get her drink from the table and brought it back, her hand resting a whisper away from Jimmy’s thigh. There was something intoxicating about having him back; she could stare at his face all night and it still wouldn’t be enough. It wasn’t even that she fancied him, which she did because it was hard not to fancy Jimmy—all tattooed tanned muscles, hair shorn close to his head, skin radiating vitality, white t-shirt so threadbare you could see his skin through it, low-slung green combat shorts—but more that she couldn’t bear to have him out of her sight. Looking at him was addictive.

  ‘It’s exactly the kind of thing he would do,’ Jimmy went on. ‘Every time he doesn’t get caught he’ll push a little bit harder.’

  Eve frowned, remembering the Instagram pictures of Jake carrying a massive Christmas tree on his shoulder or giving Libby a piggyback on a country walk. ‘You think he’s done it before.’

  Jimmy almost choked on his swig of beer. ‘Are you serious?’

  Eve looked at Jessica who shrugged, equally nonplussed. It felt weird talking about Libby and Jake like this at their place.

  ‘Of course he’s done it before. The guy’s the ultimate player,’ Jimmy went on. ‘He can’t sit still. Never could. Christ, he’s shagged people left, right, and centre over the years.’

  Eve paused with her drink up to her lips. ‘Wow,’ she said, before taking a little sip, the vodka coursing cold through her body. Poor Libby. For a second she thought about her life envy. Even their infidelity was bigger and bolder and more media friendly than her and Peter’s quiet little bust up. ‘Do you think she knew?’ she asked.

  Jimmy held his hands up. ‘I don’t see how she didn’t know. He’s been—’

  He was cut off by Jessica doing a really loud cough and they all turned to see Libby standing at the gate to the lemon grove. She had a bottle of ice cold vodka in her hand and a couple of spare glasses. All around her fairy lights sparkled in the leaves.

  Everyone was silent for what seemed like hours.

  Jimmy looked down, rubbing his hand over his forehead.

  ‘Giulia said you were all on vodka,’ Libby said, trundling through the silence as if nothing had happened. She swallowed. ‘So, erm, I brought this.’ She held up the condensation covered bottle. ‘But I think, though, I think I’ve just forgotten something. I’ll be back in a tick,’ she said, then turned and took a couple of paces, then turned again and added, ‘I’ll leave this here.’ She put the vodka bottle and glasses on the ground by the fence then disappeared back through the grove.

  ‘Shit,’ said Dex.

  Eve put her hands over her mouth.

  Jessica narrowed her eyes. ‘You knew,’ she said to Jimmy. ‘You knew and you didn’t tell her.’

  Jimmy shook his head. ‘It’s none of my business.’

  Miles raised a brow.

  ‘Are you kidding?’ Jessica said. ‘She’s your friend.’

  ‘So was he. Is he.’ Jimmy made a face. ‘Come on, why would I get involved in this?

  Dex?’ Dex shrugged. ‘It’s messy.’

  Jessica rolled her eyes.

  ‘Never get involved.’ Jimmy held up his hands. ‘People’s relationships are their own business. They choose what they want and what they want to see.’

  ‘That’s such a cop-out,’ Jessica stood up and walked over to the gate to pick up the vodka.

  ‘Oh, and you’re the expert?’ Jimmy said, and they all suddenly became fascinated with their drinks.

  Jessica huffed, jaw clenched, and bashed the bottle down on the table.

  Jimmy shook his head and sat back in his chair, taking a swig of his drink probably to stop himself saying any more.

  ‘One of us should go and find her,’ Eve said, knowing that it should be her, but something was holding her back. Pride, perhaps. The feeling of being the outsider. The fact that all this had been going on in Libby’s relationship and she hadn’t told her.

  She glanced around for a possible candidate. Miles was still battling the jet lag and had sat back with his eyes closed. Jessica was clearly quietly fuming about Jimmy’s comments
and not about to get up again. It was Dex who paused as he was refilling everyone’s glasses and, looking up at Eve, said, ‘Give me one sec and I’ll go.’

  When Dex stood up Jimmy did as well but, as Dex strode off towards the hotel, Jimmy took his drink and wandered down to the very bottom of the garden. Jessica kept staring moodily down at her glass.

  Eve was about to follow Jimmy when her phone rang. She glanced at the screen to see Peter’s name flash up for FaceTime and was hit by a confusing mishmash of feelings. An excitement that Peter had broken their agreement not to talk for the first half of the week so that it was a proper break, but also a desire to keep hold of the slight flicker of old Eve that seeing Jimmy had dusted off and was bringing back to light.

  She went over to the lemon grove to answer, pushing her hair back before she did, rubbing her cheeks and positioning herself so she wouldn’t look like she had a double chin or big bags under her eyes when her image came up on screen.

  ‘Hello,’ she said, almost sultry.

  ‘Muuuummmy!’ Noah and Maisey yelled simultaneously.

  ‘Oh, hi, guys,’ she said, smiling, relieved, a tiny bit disappointed that Peter hadn’t even been there to say hello.

  They chattered away about their day, oohing at the big lemons and the fairy lights when she turned the camera round.

  She heard Peter shout, ‘Two minutes till bath time,’ and found herself wanting to tell him about Libby and Jake. Like she was holding a balloon that just got bigger and bigger the more she didn’t tell Peter.

  He’d never met Jimmy. Dex and Jessica he knew to say ‘Hi’ to, but Libby and Jake they had spent time with when they were first dating. Peter had walked away from their first meeting shaking his head. ‘He’s too good-looking for his own good. I can’t talk to him.’

  ‘Does he make you shy and nervous?’ Eve had sniggered as they’d stumbled drunkenly into a taxi.

  ‘No.’ Peter had shaken his head. ‘It’s like he’s not really the one talking. It’s like … Yeah, Claremont Road, it’s the block of flats—you can’t miss it, by the railway. Yeah? Great. It’s like he’s a guy playing him in a film.’