by Luna Snow
Murder She Baked
Death By Panna Cotta
Copyright
Published in the United States by Luna Snow
Published 2016
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of this material in any way. You must not circulate this book in any format. Luna Snow does not control or direct users’ actions and is not responsible for the information or content shared, harm and/or actions of the book readers.
Table of Contents
Introduction
Recipe for Rita Robinson’s Panna Cotta with Strawberries
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Epilogue
Introduction
Maisie Adams and her friends Ada Jones and Joan Taylor are all amazed at the news that Rita Robinson- the famous celebrity chef and judge of TV's 'Great British Cake Off' is buying the old manor house in their small village of Tivington Meadows. When Joan reads Ada's tea leaves she is shocked at what the future holds. In celebration of her move to the village, Rita throws a lavish garden party for all the locals, using it as an ideal opportunity to launch her range of ready made desserts. After two many glasses of champagne the rotund star attempts to make her signature Panna Cotta for the camera's. The result is a mess, but the show has to gon on , and the rubbery pudding is soon replaced. Why does Henry, Rita's loyal assistant and her italian Toy Boy Alberto hate each other. Whose death has been foretold in the tea leaves and how many calories in a portion of Panna Cotta? All will be revealed in this tongue in cheek cozy mystery of passion, poison and of course panna cotta! Find out who gets their just desserts!
Recipe for Rita Robinson’s Panna Cotta with Strawberries
Ingredients
For the Panna Cotta
3 Gelatine leaves
450 ml Double cream
200ml whole milk
100g white caster sugar
1 Vanilla pod
For the strawberries
400g strawberries, hulled, halved or quartered if very large
11/2 teaspoon cornflour
50g white caster sugar
Method
For the panna cotta, put the gelatine leaves in a small bowl of cold water to soften – this will take about 5 minutes. Meanwhile, pour the cream, milk and sugar into a pan, split the vanilla pod, scrape out the seeds and add, along with the pod, to the cream mixture. Heat the mixture gently until hot, but not bubbling. Remove the gelatine leaves from the water, squeeze out any excess liquid then add, one at a time, to the hot cream. Stir until dissolved. Leave to stand for 20-30 minutes until cooled – the vanilla pods should be suspended in the liquid by this point. Strain the mixture through a sieve into 6 serving glasses, then chill for at least 3 hrs.
Toss the strawberries with the cornflour and sugar in a saucepan. Place over a medium heat and cook for 4-5 minutes, until the released juices thicken and the strawberries soften. Set aside to cool. Once completely cooled, top the set panna cottas with the strawberry mixture. Chill until ready to serve.
Chapter 1
The small English village of Tivington Meadows is a picturesque and sleepy village, set among the rolling countryside of mid England. Once it had been the home to the farm workers and labourers who ploughed and sowed the corn and barley fields, and tended to the sheep and cows. Now it was the place of old fashioned tea shops and bijou craft and specialist food outlets. The pretty thatched cottages sat around an old church, dating back to Norman times, and it was a place where the visitors came by car or coach load to spend an hour or two away from the hustle and bustle of modern life, in an attempt to recreate a moment of quintessential English life that probably never really existed.
Nothing much happened in Tivington Meadows, the only change being the face of the daily visitors that came and went. Nothing that is, until now!
The ‘Copper Kettle’ tea room was buzzing. Until 10:30 it was mainly the domain of the locals who used the hour and a half wisely to catch up on all of the local gossip.
Maisie Adams had lived in the village all of her life, and although the world at large had gone mad, she had been content to remain in the sleepy village and watch the rest of the world pass her by.
That is until now. The latest news had rocked the village, it was the most exciting thing to happen since the vicar had eloped with the local primary school teacher, and that was 1967. The summer of love had even affected Tivington Meadows.
News had spread like wildfire under the pretty thatched roofs.
“Well, what do you think of the news Maisie? You used to know the old place, didn’t you go there as a child?”
Joan Taylor was an inquisitive 73 year old with sharp eyes and a mind to match. She dyed her greying hair and refused to grow old gracefully; wearing jeans and trainers and even borrowing some of her granddaughter’s clothing- she had kept her figure well.
Maisie on the other hand looked on the surface, the direct opposite to Joan. She didn’t mind her straggling grey hair and wrinkles. She had never married and didn’t give two hoots about her appearance. To a casual onlooker she might appear eccentric, but she was merely happy in her own skin. They looked an unlikely couple; Maisie and Joan, but they had been best friends since Joan came to the village as a young housewife in the mid 60’s. They were both intelligent women with the same tastes in crime and mystery novels.
Maisie added another teaspoon of sugar to her tea; she had never been on a diet in her life, had never felt the need. She stirred her tea and nodded, thinking back to when she was a girl.
“My Ma used to clean for old Lord Willets. She used to take me over to the Manor House and I would play in the garden whilst she worked. The place was crumbling even back then; Mum used to say that old Willets lived in only a few rooms of the house as the rest was inhabitable; damp and cold. The place has been empty since he died, over 40 years ago and I’m amazed the place is still standing. It will be nice to see the place restored to its former glory.”
Joan pulled a face as she bit into her fruit scone and raised one of her darkly pencilled eyebrows.
“But Rita Robinson!”
Rita Robinson was an ageing TV personality and celebrity cook. She was well known for her glamorous and flamboyant lifestyle, especially her Toy Boy Lovers as much as her cooking. Her purchase of the old Manor House had divided the village- some glad to see the old place finally being restored and others who hated the thought of such a person interrupting the peace and tranquillity of their small village. Rita was known for her celebrity parties and indulgent weekends.
A lorry containing building materials trundled passed the cafe window, up the old road leading to the house.
“All these big lorries coming through the village, it’s just not right. It spoils the ambience. People come here to get away from such things. I’m not sure what it will do for my business?”
Ada Jones had owned the ‘Copper Kettle’ for over 20 years and had been in a bad mood ever since the news had been announced. She was definitely in the camp that did not want to see Rita Robinson move into the village
, and it was more than the threat to the peace and quiet that she was concerned with. It was the threat to her own reputation that troubled Ada. People came from far and wide to eat her cake and she was worried that she would now have competition from the woman who was famous for her culinary delights and also a judge on ‘The Great British Cake-Off’ TV show. Her baking was as flamboyant as her lifestyle, and she was also a fierce critic of the contestants on the TV show – her put down catchphrase was well known to the audience that loved to hate her
‘I wouldn’t feed that to my dogs!’
What if Rita came into the cafe and tried some of her baking? What if she said the same about HER cakes? She wouldn’t be able to show her face again in the village, and it would be the end of her business.
Maisie smiled. She always liked to look on the positive side of things.
“Don’t worry Ada; it will be good for business. You know what it’s like with celebrities these days. It will attract more people to the village and more people will mean more business. I’m sure it will work out in your favour.”
“And we probably won’t even see the woman; you know what celebrities are like. She will be in London, or jetting off to exotic places. She will hardly be here, and when she is I don’t expect that we will see much of her. The odds of her coming in here for a cuppa are as likely as Maisie getting married.”
The three women laughed.
“Drink your tea Ada and I’ll read your leaves for you. “
Joan was well known for her tea leaf readings. She liked to believe that she had some Romany gypsy blood coursing through her veins, and told a tale of her great-great grandfather having an illegitimate child with a travelling woman and bringing it up as his son and heir. Maisie thought it highly unlikely but humoured her friend. It was a bit of fun and Joan had been quite accurate with her fortune telling on several occasions. Once she had foretold a long journey for old Mrs Jackson, who had never left the village for over 30 years. A month later her grandson announced that he was getting married to an Australian girl and a couple of months later Vera Jackson was flying to Melbourne on the trip of her lifetime. Since that time Joan had been in demand, especially at the annual summer fete where she poised as a particularly well dressed Gypsy Rose Lee in a tent all of her own, to tell fortunes for £1.50 – all proceeds to the local Cat & Dog Shelter.
Ada swirled the remaining tea around in the bottom of her cup, three times as instructed by Joan before picking the cup upside down and placing it on the matching saucer, allowing the remaining liquid to drain away. Tea leaf divining was a lost art, especially in the age of tea bags.
Pushing the cup and saucer towards Joan, Ada sat back to await her fate.
There was a hushed moment as Joan picked up the cup and started into the contents.
Joan swallowed hard and almost dropped the cup back into its saucer. The tea leaves had never been clearer. A few moments passed whilst she figured out what to say.
“Well?” Ada was impatient and with an eye on the clock would have to start preparing food for the daily visitors.
“It’s not terribly clear Ada. I see, I see, sunshine and a boat, it must be a holiday?”
Ada snorted as she stood up to clear the cups away from the table and place them onto a tray.
“Fat chance of that anytime soon, I will be working all through the summer. It’s a nice thought though. Now ladies, if you will excuse me I must get on.”
As she carried the tray into the kitchen at the back of the cafe, Joan let out a sigh of relief and reached into her handbag for a handkerchief to wipe her brow.
“What’s wrong Joan, you look as white as a sheet?”
The old woman leaned in close and whispered as quietly as she could.
“It was the leaves Maisie. I didn’t see a sun or a boat.”
She paused to collect her thoughts.
“Well what on earth did you see Joan?”
The poor woman tugged at the handkerchief held tightly in her hands.
“Death; I saw Death!”
Chapter 2
Much to the surprise of the villagers, Rita Robinson announced her arrival to Tivington Meadows and her move into the old Manor House by throwing a lavish garden party for all of the local people. Everyone was excited, even those who had been quite vocal against her from the first, secretly wondered what the old house would be like now it had been extensively refurbished. No-one could resist a bit of glamour, even the old timers who tutted every time her name was mentioned. It was going to be the event of the year.
On the morning of the garden party, Maisie and Joan met early at the ‘Copper Kettle’ to discuss their plans for the day.
They sat at their usual table by the window and waited as usual for Ada to come and take their order, not that it ever changed – tea for two served with freshly baked fruit scones and butter. Old habits die hard, especially in Tivington Meadows.
After 5 minutes of waiting, Maisie approached the counter and pressed the old brass bell for service.
A few minutes later, a harassed looking Ada entered from the kitchen.
“Oh Maisie, thank goodness it’s only you. I should have closed today, I really should have. What with everything going on. You’re usual is it?”
Without waiting for a reply she disappeared back into the kitchen.
“I wonder what’s wrong with her this morning?”
Joan rolled her eyes. “It’s all this business to do with Rita Robinson no doubt. Her arrival has turned everyone’s head. Anyone would think the Queen was coming with all the fuss everyone is making. Even the vicar mentioned it in church on Sunday. He’s obviously looking for a donation to the church organ restoration fund. To hear him talk you would think she was Mother Theresa!”
“Who’s Mother Theresa?”
Ada plonked the tea tray down abruptly onto the table so that a small amount of tea escaped from the tea pot spout and shot across the table.
“Oh I’m so sorry. I don’t know what the matter with me is today. It’s all of that silly woman’s fault.”
Maisie caught her friend by the arm and motioned for her to sit with them for a while.
“I’m sure it’s not as bad as all that Ada.”
The woman refused to sit.
“Oh, I haven’t got time to sit Maisie, that’s just the thing. I decided to tackle my fears and bake a cake for that woman. I can’t bear the thought of waiting day in, day out, wondering if she will walk into the cafe one day to eat my cake. So I thought I would tackle her head on and bake a cake as a welcome present. I’m just finishing it off now; you will have to excuse me.”
Before exiting to the kitchen, Ada walked to the main entrance and turned the key in the lock and swung the sign around to show that she was ‘closed’ to the outside world.
“You will let yourselves out, won’t you?”
And with that she disappeared into the kitchen.
Joan rolled her eyes.
“That doesn’t bode well!”
As the church bells struck three in the old Norman Bell Tower, the entire village of Tivington Meadows descended on the Manor. The entrance gates creaked open on the dot of three and the crowd that had gathered gasped in astonishment. The whole place looked like a magical wonderland. The drive that swept up to the main house was bordered by every colour rose imaginable, and their heavy perfumes scented the warm summer air.
The gentle strains of a stringed quartet could be heard playing in the distance.
“Well I must say, it’s not what I expected. I thought it would be a gaudy, showy affair, this all looks positively genteel!”
Maisie and Joan made their way quickly up the drive and around the side of the house to the great gardens beyond. The sight before them took their breath away.
The old fountain had been restored and sprayed delicate plumes of clear water, high into the warm air, forming miniature rainbows in the sunlight. Beyond the fountain, the Old Italian gardens had been replanted and looked resplendent i
n the afternoon sun. Chairs and tables and a huge white marquee had been erected on the lawn and attractive young men wearing black and white wandered through the crowds, holding high silver salvers bedecked with glasses of fizzy wine.
“Champagne madam?”
Maisie and Joan were not drinkers but it seemed rude to refuse such generosity.
Taking a glass, they made their way out onto the lawn to find a comfortable and shady place to sit for the afternoon.
“I wonder if all of the young men here are her toy-boys?”
Joan laughed; the bubbles making her feel immediately squiffy.
It wasn’t such a preposterous suggestion, Rita Robinsons latest fling was supposed to be with a young man 40 years her junior.
“I don’t know how she does it; I’m worn out with a walk to the shops these days, never mind having a young man around the place. Mind, if I were to marry again I would rather have a young man than an old one. He would come in handy for all of the odd jobs I need doing.”