by Luna Snow
The two women laughed. Joan had been happily married to Reginald for over forty years until his death a couple of years earlier.
They looked around for Ada but she was nowhere to be seen.
“I do hope she is alright. She did seem in a bit of a state this morning. Do you think she is doing the right thing?”
“Well, maybe we have all got Rita Robinson wrong? Maybe she is nothing like her TV personality. Judging by her gardens, I imagine her to be very genteel and thoughtful woman; nothing like her TV alter ego.”
A hush settled over the crowds as the quartet quickly finished playing Bach’s gentle ‘Air on a G String’ and started gaily on their next number. It was recognised at once as the theme tune from ‘The Great British Cake Off.”
A TV camera zoomed out of nowhere and suddenly the peace of the afternoon was broken. The French doors at the back of the house were swung open with dramatic effect, and there stood the glamorous hostess surrounded by her entourage.
The sight of Rita Robinson in such a genteel setting was like looking upon an exotic bloom in the middle of a country garden. Perhaps the word exotic was too generous a statement; for Rita Robinson looked exactly what she was; mutton dressed as lamb. The villagers gawped with pleasure, they had been right about the TV star all along and felt rather smug as they watched as she emerged into the daylight.
Not that much of her face could be seen. A pair of rather large sunglasses covered her eyes and a large, floppy wide brimmed hat covered her tinted hair. She wore a short dress of a lurid purple and yellow design that barely covered her ample body, and under each arm she carried a small and overweight white fluffy dog, that yapped at the awaiting crowd. To her right stood a very young and beautiful man with tanned skin and perfectly coiffure black hair.
Joan ad Maisie looked at each other in amazement.
“That must be her latest toy-boy. He’s young enough to be her grandson!”
Maisie laughed.
“Great- grandson.”
“Oh my god, she looks worse than I imagined. A woman of her age and size shouldn’t even think of wearing a dress like that. And look at those awful yappy dogs.”
“Shitsu.”
Joan stared at Maisie. “I beg your pardon?”
“Shitsu, it’s a breed of dog. Poor things, they can’t help having an owner like Rita Robinson. I bet they are pampered pooches!”
Joan laughed.
“Yes, only the best for those two, I suppose?”
“I wouldn’t feed it to my dog!”
They both chorused the famous catch phrase and started to laugh.
“Shhhh. She’s starting to speak.”
Setting the dogs down on the lawn, Rita oozed in front of the camera as Alberto, her young Italian lover, handed her a glass of champagne.
“Thank you all so much for attending my small party. It’s lovely to see so many of you to welcome me into my new home. I hope you will all stay around for my little cookery demonstration later this afternoon. If you aren’t already aware, I have just launched my new brand of take-away puddings- Rita’s Ready Meal Range -a little bit of my luxury puddings you can all eat in the comfort of your own home without the hassle. Today I will be making my famous vanilla panna cotta with strawberries.”
“So that’s why she’s holding this party, it’s nothing but a marketing move, a publicity stunt for her readymade puddings.”
Joan rolled her eyes.
At that moment there was a movement from the crowd as Ada stepped forward from the throng. She was carrying a tin, containing the cake she had bake for the occasion.
“Oh no, what on earth is she thinking of. On Live TV too?”
The two women watched with baited breath as Ada approached a rather startled Rita.
One of her entourage tried to get to Ada before she came into shot of the cameras, but it was too late, and Ada was a determined woman.
“Rita, I would like to present you with this as a welcome gift. I own the local cafe in the village ‘The Copper Kettle’ and bake all of my own cakes. I’m a big fan of ‘The Great British Cake Off.”
“Liar.”
Maisie uttered under her breath. Ada couldn’t stand the show, or Rita Robinson.
Rita pulled out her best dazzling smile for the TV audience as she drained her champagne and tentatively took hold of the cake tin.
“My, this is heavy my dear, what on earth do you have in here a ROCK cake?”
The entourage laughed sycophantically behind Rita and the effect rubbed off on the crowd, for they started tittering too.
Ada looked mortified.
“It’s a lemon sponge cake; it’s very popular with my customers. The cake itself is VERY light. I think you’ll find that it’s the tin that’s heavy.”
Rita rolled her eyes in mock horror towards the camera and cracked a deep and throaty laugh.
“A heavy cake tin? Now that’s a new one on me. I must remember that for my next show.”
Cue for audience to laugh again.
Turning to Ada she smiled condescendingly.
“I will give you a signed copy of my latest recipe book ‘Rita Robinson – Queen of Tarts’ my dear. You will find that even your cakes can be as light as mine with a little know how.”
Ada could hardly speak, her heart was thumping wildly in her chest and she could feel the colour rise in her cheeks. She had never felt so humiliated, and on live TV too.
“If you look in the tin....”
She was cut short by a thin young man who pressed a book into her hands.
“Well isn’t that just lovely and so sweet!”
Rita couldn’t have sounded more insincere if she had tried.
A dazed Ada was lead back into the crowds.
“Ada – wait.”
Maisie and Joan were soon on their feet but the crowd blocked their view and the glass of champagne had already gone to their heads.
“Where did she go?”
The two women looked around in vain but Ada was nowhere to be seen.
“Do you think she’s gone home?”
Maisie shrugged. “I don’t know. Poor Ada, it was the worst thing she could have done. I hope she’s OK?”
Joan frowned.
“What’s wrong?”
“’I’m just thinking about that tea leaf reading?”
Maisie’s eyes widened.
“C’mon we better find her.”
Chapter 3
All attention had now turned to the great marquee that dominated the centre of the garden. Rita Robinson glided down the lawn as id she were on castors, with the two small dogs hot at her heels.
“She might be in the marquee? Come on.”
The thin young man trotted carefully behind her, like one of the faithful dogs. Occasionally Rita would turn around and bark an order at him.
“Alberto, fetch me my handbag; Alberto, don’t tread on the dogs; Alberto smile will you, you have a face like a smacked behind; we want to put on a good show for the TV camera’s; Alberto, fetch me another glass of champagne”
The young man looked miserable but tried to smile. It wasn’t easy being Rita Robinson’s toy-boy.
Maisie and Joan quickly entered the tent, hoping to find Ada quickly.
The marquee had been arranged like a small kitchen for Rita to bake her famous signature dish – the Italian favourite- Panna Cotta.
Henry Evans, Rita’s culinary assistant greeted her warmly, the only honest gesture shown during the whole afternoon. He was middle aged and not one of Rita’s toy boys. The two had worked together for a long time, even before Rita had found TV fame and fortune.
“Rita my love, you look as gorgeous as ever”.
She dismissed him with a throaty laugh.
“No need for all that guff Henry. Save it for the cameras. Now Alberto, keep hold of Itsy and Bitsy. We don’t want them yapping throughout my filming. Don’t let them enter the tent. I don’t want dog hairs in my Panna Cotta. Help him Henry for god’s sake.”
The two men glared at each other as they set about trying to pick up the two dogs, who hated to be handled by anyone but Rita herself. They yapped and snapped at the bare hands that tried to catch them.
Maisie couldn’t help but listen.
“No love lost there then!”
As the cameramen started to prepare everything for the shoot, the crowds began to gather. Makeup artists and hair stylists started to group around Rita, to hide the cracks and crevices, lines and wrinkles that defined her real age. Close up TV work was not the most flattering and Rita relied on every bit of help she could.
As she sat back in the chair, head back and legs raised, Rita closed her eyes, but still nothing went by without her noticing it.
“Don’t just stand there Alberto, get me another glass of champagne.”
As Maisie and Joan looked around the marquee there was a loud scream from the direction of Rita.
“For god’s sake get that stupid woman away from me.”
Maisie looked up just in time to see a very drunken Ada stumbling her way towards the star.
“Alberto – get her away from me. NOW!”
The poor young man ran to Rita’s side, complete with a glass of champagne in hand. He dithered for a moment, not quite knowing what to do.
“Give me that champagne idiot and remove that woman.”
Poor Ada looked certainly the worse for wear. She had managed to find a full bottle of champagne and down the lot in 5 minutes flat. It had temporarily given her the courage to face Rita again, but now all she felt was sick.
As poor Alberto gently tried to persuade her to leave the marquee, Maisie and Joan pushed through the crowd to claim their friend.
“It’s alright; we’ll take care of her. Come on Ada, come with us.”
The poor woman could hardly stand and between them they managed to walk her to the back of the tent The intention was to take her home, but Ada’s legs gave way and she slumped into one of the chairs.
She wasn’t going anywhere fast!
An efficient young woman with a short brown bobbed hairstyle and glasses addressed the crowd.
“Ladies and gentlemen, can I have your attention please? We will be starting to film in 5 minutes so we would be grateful if you could take your seats now. If you could all remain seated throughout the filming – it should only take half an hour. No flash photography or videoing allowed please. Thank you.”
Joan tried to wake Ada, but she was sound asleep.
“Shouldn’t we try and get her home?”
Maisie sighed.
“I don’t think she is going anywhere. We may as well stay and enjoy the show.”
Rita appeared in the make-shift kitchen and the lady with the clipboard and with an addition of head phones counted her in.
“5, 4, 3, 2, 1, and action.”
Rita suddenly came to life. All of the bad temper and ill humour now disappeared. It was like she was a different woman.
She loved the camera.
“Welcome viewers, welcome to my humble home. It truly is an honour to invite you into my little world. This evening I will show you how to prepare my delicious signature dish, yes you’ve got it, my very own vanilla panna cotta with strawberries. And remember, if you don’t want to try this at home, you can always try my new range of readymade desserts - Rita’s Ready Made Range - from me to you with Love.”
She stopped and blew a kiss into the camera, losing her balance for a moment.
Joan rolled her eyes. “She’s pissed!”
The young woman with the bobbed hair stared into the crowd and held up a sign that read
‘Quiet during filming’.
Rita continued with her recipe. She was a consummate professional, and only wobbled a few times, despite the many glasses of champagne she had already downed.
“I have of course my trusty assistant Henry helping me today.”
The man stepped forward and gave a little theatrical bow and the young woman held up another sign towards the audience.
‘Applaud’
The audience at once burst into a round of seemingly spontaneous applause, even though half of them didn’t know why.
“Now ladies, every home should have a Henry. He has prepared all of the ingredients for me today. Now I pour the lovely cream, milk, and sugar into the pan, add the vanilla pod and heat gently. Don’t worry about the cream ladies, no diets allowed here. My Alberto likes a full figured woman – isn’t that right darling?”
The camera panned to a now grinning Alberto.
“That’s right my love.”
And he blew her a kiss back.
The placard was raised again.
‘Applaud’
“We’re like a crowd of performing seals”
Maisie managed to whisper without moving her lips.
Rita Robinson swayed over the mixing bowl but managed to retain her balance. The milk, cream, sugar and vanilla pods were poured into a pan to heat. Maisie frowned as she watched from the back of the room- she wasn't the best cook in the world, but the pan was set to full heat and the milk and cream would scald and burn. Sure enough the mixture started to boil over and Rita quickly threw the soaked gelatine leaves into the bubbling milk.
“She needs to take the pan off the heat or the panna cotta will be ruined” Joan hissed under her breath.
In her present state Rita didn’t seem to care
After a few moments she proceeded to pour the mixture into a mould, ready to set before placing into the fridge.
"And while we wait for that to set I will show you how I prepare my delicious strawberry coulis to serve with the panna cotta."
Rita proceeded to pour a generous quantity of rum into a pan before adding a punnet of strawberries.
"Of course you can make this without alcohol, and just substitute the rum with four tablespoons of water."
Joan tried her best to stifle a snigger.
"And that's really going to happen. Anymore alcohol and the poor woman will be on the floor!"
All eyes were fixed on Rita as she mesmerised the crowd with her strawberries, but Maisie noticed a few of the TV crew collecting by the fridge and talking to Henry. One of them had obviously sussed out that the Panna Cotta currently chilling would not be up to the famous Robinson standards and a substitute was being prepared. Henry looked annoyed and raised his hands in the air and walked off. Luckily there were plenty of Rita’s Readymade Range to hand and they quickly swapped the rubbery handmade dessert for one that had been made in a factory. No-one saw- except for Maisie. The dessert that Rita had made was hurriedly discarded into a dustbin on the floor.
Rita was no wiser than the audience as she lifted the panna cotta out of the fridge, as triumphantly as if she had just made it herself.
“Now my dear friends, doesn’t this look marvellous? Now we just pour a little of the strawberry coulis over the top, a sprinkle of icing sugar and as a final flourish, a sprig of mint. And there you have it, my famous vanilla panna cotta served with a strawberry coulis. And remember, if you don’t have time to make this at home – my new range of Rita’s Ready Made Range can be bought at a quality supermarket near you.
Now there is only one last thing I need to do, and that is to ask my dear Alberto to taste this for me. He has divine taste buds and only the best will satisfy him.”
She simpered as Alberto stepped forward and she spooned a large mouthful of the pudding coquettishly into his mouth.
“Well my dear, what do you think?”
Alberto smiled and showed his perfect teeth.
“Bellissimo Rita, like you, it is BELLISSIMO.”
Rita smiled her widest and toothiest smile as the TV camera panned in for a close up of the two before the director finally shouted.
“Cut, that’s a wrap everybody. Well done Rita, you were marvellous darling.”
As soon as the camera was turned off, Rita visibly drooped. It was if she only lived for the camera. Her face soon turned sour, her face red
and puffy.
“Alberto, fetch me another glass of champagne.”