When Only Cupcakes Will Do

by Daisy James

  ‘Thanks, Lucie. Hey, why don’t you join us when you’ve finished tidying up here? We’re adjourning to the Fox and Hounds for a few drinks.’

  ‘Love to,’ she smiled, her eyes resting on one of Matt’s friends lounging in a white picnic chair, his chiselled good looks spoiled only by the broken-nosed evidence of his love for his favourite pastime.

  ‘Great. See you there.’

  As she finished cleaning the van, a fleeting image of Ed disappearing out of the door of the Fox and Hounds two weeks earlier muscled its way uninvited into her brain. She looked up, tossing the curls from her eyes with the back of her hand and thought her eyes were playing tricks on her.

  Ed?

  She had seen Rosa, Paolo and Gabriella earlier, sauntering round the various stalls and giggling at the troop of Morris dancers, but Ed had not been with them – she’d checked. She shook her head and finished her task, finally slinging her rubber gloves into the bucket and heaving a sigh of relief. She called to Jess – who was engrossed in conversation with Matt as Lewis and Jack helped collect the discarded plastic cups for the WI beer stall – that she would drive the van back and see her at home later.

  ‘Okay, Lucie,’ Jess called over her shoulder.

  As she slid behind the wheel she glanced down to the river making its serene journey to the sea. This time there could be no doubt. It was definitely Ed emerging from the weather-blistered door of the rowing club, looking like he’d just stepped from a film shoot on the Italian Riviera. Her heart bounced like a penny down a well and back again as she watched him straighten the navy-blue jumper he’d slung over his shoulders and check his watch.

  ‘Lucie! Hey, great to see you again. I’ve just got here, I’m afraid. Gabriella has berated me for my tardiness as I have apparently missed all the good raffle prizes and it looks like I’ve also missed the opportunity to sample one of your cupcakes again.’ He smiled up at Lucie through the driver’s window, his dark eyes dancing with pleasure.

  ‘Hello, Ed. Good to see you too.’

  ‘Erm, look. Lucie. I’m sorry for leaving you so abruptly that night in the pub. I’m down at Rosa and Paolo’s for the long weekend. Perhaps I can make it up to you by inviting you to join me on an excursion tomorrow?’

  ‘Oh, no, there’s no need. I mean…’

  What was she saying? Was she about to turn down the opportunity of spending the day with Ed? ‘What I meant to say was, you don’t have to apologise for anything, but what sort of excursion did you have in mind?’

  ‘It’s a surprise. I intend to introduce you to something a little outside your comfort zone. No more playing it safe, Miss Bradshaw. Tidiness and order has its place in the kitchen, I agree with you there, but in life it’s essential to take a few risks to remind yourself you’re still alive. Exhilaration is an underexploited emotion. When was the last time you really let your hair fly in the air and had some fun that wasn’t the culinary kind! Wear sensible clothes and I’ll pick you up at eight a.m., unless you’d like to drive us there in the van? I like what you’ve done with it, by the way. I love the signage and the vintage décor. Perhaps you can give me the grand tour one day? It’s an inspired idea to replace the ice cream with buttercream in the dispensers.’

  ‘I’d be delighted to show you round, but it won’t take long!’ she laughed, waving to him as she pulled out of the parking spot, her heart drumming out a symphony of anxiety and anticipation in equal measure, along with something else she was reluctant to put a name to.

  Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Spending the whole day with Ed was a completely different proposition to a drink at the local pub and she found herself panicking. She had no idea what to wear. What did sensible mean? Her heart gave a painful lurch when she thought of the suitcases and cardboard boxes Steph had volunteered to collect from the apartment she’d shared with Alex. She hadn’t had the need, or the courage, to unpack them yet as she hadn’t had much of a social life since she’d high-tailed it down to Richmond.

  In the end she selected a pair of black jeans and teamed them with a clover-coloured angora cardigan and flat pumps. She took extra care with her hair to make up for the absence of sartorial elegance that came so easily to Ed. Her blonde curls were her crowning glory but now hovered well below her ears and she made a promise to herself to either take a trip to see Hollie or ask her sister to recommend a local salon. She spritzed on a few drops of Beyoncé Pulse, grabbed her bag and rushed out of the front door to Ed’s Alfa Romeo before Jess could suggest she invite him in. Her sister still thought she was seeing Ed as a stepping stone to mending her broken heart and she was sure her face would give her true feelings away.

  ‘Hi, you look great, but not for the activity I’ve got in mind for us today.’

  ‘Well, as you wouldn’t tell me where we’re heading…’

  ‘Don’t worry. I have some spare kit in the back.’

  ‘Spare kit? I’m not sure I like the sound of this.’

  ‘Like I said, you can’t always play it safe, Lucie. You can’t just find your comfort zone and stick with it, live your life engulfed in the fear of “what ifs”. You have to take some chances, a few risks and who knows what you’ll discover? I’ve promised you a day filled with fun and thrills you’ve probably never experienced before and that’s what I intend to deliver.’

  ‘Thrills?’ she muttered, a shiver of fear rippling through her chest. ‘Ed, I’m really not an outdoorsy kind of girl. Give me a warm, dry kitchen, a stack of cookery books and a supply of coffee and I’m happy. Anyway, it looks like it’s going to rain.’

  Lucie peered out of the windscreen at the bruised sky overhead and Ed laughed. ‘Trust me. I’ve prepared for every eventuality. Now sit back and relax. We’ll be there soon.’

  She did as she was told but as the Alfa Romeo cut through the traffic south on the M25 her trepidation began to mount. What could he have planned for them? And what sort of ‘kit’ did he expect her to change into? A slash of horror exploded in her chest as she envisaged being forced to wear combats and spend the day paintballing in a dark, dank forest, or worse, leaping from a plane with a flimsy parachute strapped on her back as her only safeguard against meeting the ground at speed.

  She shot a worried glance at Ed, his eyes fixed on the road ahead as he took the exit slip road from the motorway. In profile, he was as attractive as ever in his skin-tight jeans and heather-coloured cashmere sweater. His sleeves had been shoved up his forearms to reveal an expanse of tanned skin and a ripple of desire joined her apprehension. It occurred to her that whenever she was in the company of Ed Cartolli, her emotions boiled out of control, whether that was an overflow of anger and indignation at Francesca’s, unexpected shock and alarm when he’d turned up at Gabriella’s birthday party, or the concoction of nervousness and sexual attraction that was whipping through her veins now. Being with Ed was dangerous whichever way she looked at it and she had an inkling that the danger was only going to magnify in the next few hours. She felt exhausted just by sitting next to him.

  Her eyes lingered on his hand draped across the steering wheel and the three missing fingers. Oh, God! Had his injury been caused during one of his thrill-seeking activities? Maybe even the actual one they were on their way to, which was why he’d insisted on keeping it a secret. Panic began its insidious coil around her abdomen. She started to feel lightheaded and almost had a coronary when Gatwick Airport loomed in front of them. They were going skydiving! Her breath began to feel laboured. She was about to die!

  ‘Ed, I really…’

  ‘What’s the matter? Your face looks like it should be on a pathologist’s slab?’

  ‘I think your idea of fun and mine reside at opposite sides of the spectrum. Can’t we just…’

  ‘The Lucie Bradshaw I knew in Paris wasn’t frightened to try something new.’

  ‘In the kitchen! With flavours and textures and the most exotic, even outlandish, ingredients I could get
my hands on! Yes! But I would never in my wildest nightmares have contemplated hurling myself out of a plane for fun!’

  ‘A plane? You want to do a parachute jump?’

  ‘No, I don’t want to do a parachute jump!’

  It was happening again. Her temper had been ignited and she opened her mouth to continue with her litany of justifications as to why she had no intention of throwing herself to her death. Her life might not be perfect at the moment after losing Alex and her home, not to mention her job and the daily contact with Gino, Antonio and Sofia, but she harboured a fervent hope it would improve.

  Ed chuckled. ‘Ah, Livid Lucie pokes her head above the parapet! I love her!’

  Lucie gawped at him but the car swung sharply to the left and she had to grab on to her seat to steady herself and the moment was lost. The next, much more welcome, sensation in her kaleidoscope of emotions was relief. Although it would never be her first choice of activity for a Sunday morning jaunt, it beat the spots off anything airborne.

  ‘So are you ready to channel your inner Tarzan?’

  ‘Do I have any choice?’ But she smiled as she accepted a pair of sturdy hiker’s boots and a waterproof zip-up jacket that Ed produced from the back seat.

  Now she was here she was determined to make the most of the treetop adventure beneath the canopy of leaves in a patch of woodland outside Crawley. The woody aroma of pine and mulched bark tickled at her nostrils and the only sound, apart from sporadic shrieks from participants high up in the trees, was birdsong and the persistent beat of her heart through her eardrums.

  They climbed into their safety harnesses, pulled on their helmets and stood in an arc in a clearing with three fellow adventurers for their safety briefing. Lucie listened to every word, wishing she had a notepad to jot down a few of the tips. But this was not an activity where you could consult your notes if you got stuck and a helix of alarm began to wind its way up her chest. She shoved it aside and jutted her chin in the air. She was going to do this.

  Their instructor, Carlton, led them to a rope ladder.

  ‘Okay, Lucie, it’s all yours. Have fun!’

  She tossed a glance at Ed and began her slow climb. When she reached the top, she rued her acquiescence to the instructor’s invitation to go first. She should have chosen to go last as her climb into the treetops had allowed Ed a glorious view of her swinging behind. However, she refused to dwell on the indignity for too long as a feeling of accomplishment seeped into her veins. Shafts of diaphanous sunlight fell through the branches overhead sending shadows dancing to the forest floor. It was a spectacular view as trees as tall as telegraph poles crowded the area, their trunks laced together with a jumble of steel cables and ropes.

  Sadly, her joy only lasted a few seconds. She peeked over the platform edge to the ground below and experienced a sharp nip of vertigo before shooting backwards to glue her spine to the trunk, her stomach contracting around something akin to a thorny pineapple. Already her palms were smarting from the rub of the rope ladder but that was nothing compared to the twist of fear when she saw what obstacle lay ahead.

  ‘Want me to go first?’ offered Ed, his fingers lingering on her forearm.

  ‘Please.’

  She gulped as she took in the taut steel high-wire which was threaded through a drape of rope mesh. She watched Ed trot across the bridge as though he was out on a Sunday stroll. She gritted her teeth, relegated her nerves to the back of her mind and launched herself forward. Immediately the bridge began to swing from left to right and she clutched at the ropes as she struggled to maintain her balance. But she made it to the second wooden platform in one piece. The next challenge was a long cylindrical barrel and, with her confidence blossoming, she crawled through to the other side, a smile stretching her lips.

  Her pride was short-lived. Next up was a series of ten circular steel foot hoops dangling from the end of a set of vertical ropes. She inserted her foot into the first and a bout of uncontrollable wobbling overcame her. She just couldn’t control her legs and hung there, her thighs splayed, frozen in terror for what seemed like ages.

  Sweat trickled from her temples and her damp curls stuck to her forehead beneath her helmet. Her hands were not only red raw but blisters threatened too. She could see Ed watching her from the platform so she gathered every last ounce of courage she possessed, swung her left leg into the next hoop and lunged for the next. As she built up a steady rhythm she managed to reach the platform and slumped into Ed’s arms with a whoop of relief.

  The fragrance of the forest and Ed’s lemony cologne sent her senses into overdrive and she was suddenly overtaken by an onslaught of trembling. Ed held her to his chest, rubbing her back until it passed. Her eyes met his then dropped down to his lips. They were so close she could feel his breath on her cheek, her lips scarcely a centimetre from his. Thankfully the moment was broken by a shriek from the adjacent zip wire. While their earlier safety briefing hadn’t banned kissing, a shaky wooden platform eleven metres from the ground wasn’t the most appropriate place to indulge in a first passionate embrace.

  ‘Having fun?’

  ‘Erm…’ she croaked.

  ‘The best is yet to come. You first.’

  Lucie swallowed down the turmoil of emotions and wriggled her toes to the edge of the final wooden platform. All five of her senses had woken from their habitual slumber. Every nerve ending tingled, every pore in her body exuded confidence. She leapt into the air with a whoop. The zip wire carried her on an exhilarating journey through the arboreal canopy, the breeze whipping her hair across her face, her legs swinging free until she landed in an undignified heap on a mound of shredded bark.

  ‘Awesome!’ she screamed as Ed landed next to her, his face alight with pleasure.

  ‘Told you you’d have fun. And I can see the real Lucie I met in Paris shining through that comfort blanket you wrapped yourself in for some reason. You have to push every boundary and grasp life by the scruff of its neck.’

  Lucie couldn’t help herself. She was so overwhelmed with what she had accomplished that she slung her arms around his neck and hugged him. ‘Thank you. That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever done. Now I feel like I can do anything! Overcome any challenge that life throws in my direction.’

  Ed didn’t let go of her as she’d expected. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer, his curls falling into his eyes as his lips met hers. She responded immediately, savouring the powerful surge of exhilaration coursing through her body. She melted into his embrace, every extremity sending shock waves to her brain until disorientation caused her to break their connection. Ed had promised her excitement but she had never expected it to be delivered in such an intimate way nor with such a forceful effect on her emotions.

  ‘Come on, let’s get some lunch.’

  Ed hooked his arm around her neck and they made their way to his car in companionable silence. Lucie felt her skin tingle at his proximity and was grateful when they separated to slide into their respective seats. The strength of her reaction had confused her and she needed some time to think about what had just happened.

  ‘There’s a fabulous Italian restaurant nearby. Fancy a bowl of pasta?’

  ‘Yes, please!’ Her stomach groaned in agreement and she giggled. Fresh air and exercise had pricked her appetite and encouraged her thirst. She couldn’t wait to gulp down a glass of sparkling water crammed with ice cubes and a squeeze of lemon. Her hair was more like bird’s nest than Sunday best, but her appearance didn’t seem to matter to Ed.

  As they pulled up outside a tiny Sicilian restaurant, her thoughts spun back to her initial impression of Edmundo Cartolli and the times she had scrutinised him from afar, surrounded by a group of admirers in the kitchen at Le Cordon Bleu, soaking up the praise for achieving yet another top spot in the league table of culinary accolades. Perhaps she had been too hasty in her diagnosis.

  Chapter Eighteen

  As soon as she stepped over the threshold of Adriano’s
a warm feeling of well-being enveloped her as the waft of oregano and garlic reached her nostrils and candles flickered in the wine bottles. Of course the food was delicious too. They both had the mussels in a tomato and garlic sauce to start and the courgette and saffron risotto, decorated with a scattering of bright-orange courgette flowers, for their main course. Then, avoiding the tiramisu, Lucie rounded off the meal with a slice of the torta al limone e pistacchi.

  ‘So, what’s the verdict?’ Lucie asked, surveying the room and enjoying the ambience much more now that the majority of the Sunday afternoon diners had left for home and she could distinguish the swirl of Italian operatic music above the conversation.

  Ed laughed. ‘Adriano is a family friend. I promised him I would never mention his trattoria on Anon. Appetit. It would be more than my life’s worth, in fact. My mother would banish me from our village. Adriano’s mother, Teresa, has been her best friend since childhood. They know each other’s secrets and have shared over fifty years of celebrations and heartbreaks.’

  ‘Gosh, how I wish Gino or Francesca had been an old family friend!’ Lucie mused as she sipped her ice-cold San Pellegrino.

  Ed met her eyes and held them. The intensity of his gaze unsettled her and she was the first to look away. She fiddled with the stem of her glass until her eyes accidentally landed on his right hand resting on his glass. She flicked a silent question to him and saw the sides of his lips twitch downwards. He reached up, scratched at the stubble on his cheeks, and inhaled a deep, steadying breath, his face serious.

  ‘I lost my fingers in an accident last summer.’

  ‘You don’t have to…’

  ‘It’s okay. I want to.’ Ed concentrated his attention for a moment on twisting the stem of his glass on the tablecloth. ‘I grew up with two best friends, Giorgio and Dominico. We were inseparable and our parents nicknamed us the three musketeers. In our teenage years we developed an obsession with extreme sports – white-water rafting, free climbing, paragliding; the more dangerous the activity, the better. We refused to listen to caution. Before we went our separate ways to pursue our chosen careers we decided to take up skydiving. Dominico said it was the ultimate in thrill-seeking and he was right. We couldn’t get enough of it. Every spare second, every spare euro, was spent on the next jump. The feeling of pure freedom you experience as you fall through the sky is incomparable.