by Confetti
‘Alex and I had a meeting with Jerome last night and he assured us that he has everything under control. I’m sure we can manage to choreograph a wedding ceremony. There are thirty-six guests, and me and Alex – how hard can it be? When Dad was alive, he and Mum used to throw summer parties in the back garden for more than that!’
‘Of course, Immie. We can totally do this without Fleur. You can rely on us!’ declared Carla before turning her attention back to Millie to resume her earlier interrogation. ‘So, Millie, who’s going to be your escort to the evening reception?’
‘Okay,’ said Ella. ‘We’d better get started. We’ve got a very busy schedule today if we want to finish decorating the wedding cake and finalising the wedding favours.’
‘Oh, I’m so excited. You know, Ella, I actually think I like this chocolate one better than the one we lost in the fire.’
Imogen trotted off in Ella’s wake to assist in the construction of her three-tiered chocolate extravaganza that would be the centrepiece of the top table on their wedding day.
‘And we get to decorate our cake pops!’ said Harriet, snatching up an apron to cover her pristine white linen tunic that Millie knew had cost more than she made in a month. ‘Which shall we start with?’
‘Mmm?’ murmured Millie when she realised the silence meant Harriet was waiting for a response from her. The echo of Zach’s telephone call with Chloe had stayed with her, pulling a knot ever tighter in her stomach and causing her to lose the thread of her explanations.
‘Are you okay, Millie? Has something happened to upset you? It’s just that you look like you spent the night in the village morgue. Why don’t we have a coffee outside on the veranda before we start?’
‘Oh, no, sorry. I’m fine, really. Right, we should start with the goldfish, the owl and the shark we moulded yesterday as practice before we move on to decorate the bride and the groom combos.’
Millie switched into professional chef mode – the go-to setting for when life tossed random grenades in her path. It’s what she had done after the Luke fiasco when she had felt like she had landed on an alien planet – that everyone and everything around her had changed. Baking, baking, baking until she dropped had saved her from chasing imaginary monsters down blind alleyways until she was clutching at her sanity with her fingernails. She secured her apron strings, brushed aside her worries and resolved to occupy her hands and her mind with culinary activities.
She removed the five trays of shaped cake pops from the freezer and set about preparing the candy melts she and Ella had sourced in Castries the previous week which, when softened, would form the outer shell of the cake pop wedding favours. She emptied the packets of different coloured chocolate buttons into individual bowls so she could dissolve them in the microwave before adding a dribble of vegetable oil.
‘So, you hold the end of the stick and dip the cake into the melt like this.’
Millie demonstrated the action required to coat the cake pop that she had moulded into a passable goldfish shape with the bright orange candy melt, twirling it gently then removing it and setting it to cool in a block of polystyrene.
‘Wow! Gracie would absolutely love this activity! Look Millie, what do you think? Shall we add a few of these for the guests with a sense of humour?’ Carla held up the shark she had coated in a vivid purple-blue melt.
‘I think we should stick to the brief,’ interrupted Imogen from where she was piping buttercream onto one of the practice cakes. ‘Any diversions and Mum will have a coronary.’
Carla rolled her eyes. ‘Spoilsport!’
‘My turn!’ said Harriet. She selected the owl she had made the previous day and dipped it into the pink dish, twisting it as Millie had demonstrated, giggling with pleasure. ‘I love this! It’s like a baking class and an art class all rolled into one. Can we paint them now, Millie?’
‘We need to pop them into the freezer to harden whilst we get on with making the wedding favours.’
Millie coached Carla and Harriet in how to coat the balls of chocolate cake with either white chocolate for the bride or dark chocolate for the groom. When they had finished all thirty-six, they were whisked into the freezer and the earlier ‘test’ cake pops were removed. With paintbrushes and mini pots of food colouring, Millie showed them how to paint on the goldfish’s eyes and the white and black Nemo stripes.
Carla gave her shark a huge set of teeth. ‘No prizes for its inspiration!’
‘It’s certainly got Greg’s eyebrows!’ laughed Harriet, painting huge white eyes on her owl and highlighting the contours of its chest feathers in black.
Once again it was almost six o’clock by the time the women took a break to assess their progress. Imogen and Alex’s wedding cake was finished. It looked amazing: each of the three tiers covered in swirls of buttercream and scattered with handcrafted flowers, chocolate hearts, butterflies and double clefs in a nod to the band Alex played guitar in when he had time. Fearful of another disaster, Imogen had turned down Ella’s offer to take it back to the hotel with them that evening, insisting that she would ask one of the men to drive over to collect it on the Sunday morning before the ceremony.
However, the stars of the show were most definitely the cake pops. The bride version had been dipped in white chocolate and sported a tiara of tiny edible pearls and white lace decoration for the wedding dress. The groom had been given a splendid top hat painted in black food colouring and even had a tiny waistcoat etched on his chest along with a miniature pink bow tie to match the bride’s bouquet. The unique wedding favours were stored in the freezer and would be wrapped in cellophane and tied with colour-co-ordinated ribbons ready to be given pride of place on the tables in the wedding marquee.
Millie was exhausted. Her face muscles ached from the charade of excitement she had been forced to enact all day when all she could think about was what was happening with Zach and Chloe. Only Ella, and perhaps Imogen, who kept sending her worried looks, suspected that something was amiss, but neither of them dared to ask in case they upset her further. She was thankful for their discretion.
In fact, once again she found herself grateful for her obsession with all things culinary that had come to her rescue when her world had tipped on its axis. She knew she could count on her cakes to rise, her panna cotta to set, her soufflés to rise. She could predict which mix of spices would meld into a sensation on the lips, which liqueur would enhance which fruit compote, and what herbs to use with which meats. What she would never be able to understand, no matter how much effort she put into it, was how the male mind worked.
From now on, she wasn’t even going to try.
Chapter Eleven
After Imogen and her bridesmaids had left, Millie couldn’t face making a start on the tidying up. One thing she knew for certain was that Zach would not be appearing at the French doors, the usual smirk on his face and a sarcastic comment on his lips about her propensity for scattering culinary chaos. Ignoring everything she had been taught at college, and all the encouragement from her super-organised sister Jen, she decided to leave the clearing up until the next morning.
She locked the French doors and took a moment to drink in the view from the veranda. The Pitons seemed to reflect her mood perfectly: dark, glowering pyramids of shadow setting sail in the inky black of the Caribbean Sea. The town of Soufrière slumbered peacefully at their base, amber street lights twinkling like dancing fairies. She glanced down at the swimming pool, the rectangle of turquoise somehow drawing her towards its depths.
On impulse, she kicked off her sandals, dropped her straw bag on one of the sun loungers and skipped down the wooden steps to the terrace. Without allowing herself the time to talk herself out of it, she stripped off her capri trousers and Breton T-shirt and launched into the pool. The cool water felt like a veil of silk slipping over her skin and she powered through twenty laps without stopping until her breath came out in spurts but her mind was clear and refreshed.
So what if Zach was probably, at t
hat very moment, entertaining his ex-girlfriend in his little wooden cabin amidst the cocoa trees whilst Binks snoozed outside on the decking. It was not as though they had been an item, just friends.
But Millie knew that no matter how many times she reminded herself of that fact, she was deceiving herself. The way her heart bounced with joy whenever Zach arrived on the veranda, or gave her that quirky, sardonic smile, she knew her feelings for him stretched well beyond friendship, despite the short time she had known him. She knew that her sister had met and fallen in love with her husband, Oscar, whilst visiting their mother in Provence. He had been on a backpacking holiday and had moved on after only two weeks, but Jen knew she was going to spend the rest of her life with him. And so she had – one country village wedding and two children later they were happier than ever.
When she had asked Jen how she had known Oscar was her soulmate so quickly she had simply responded that she just knew, that it wasn’t something she could put into words. It was a feeling of absolute certainty that they were on the same wavelength and the fact that she couldn’t bear the thought of being apart from him even for a second. Millie had taken those pearls of sisterly wisdom on board and had waited for those feelings to sneak up on her when she met Luke, but they hadn’t. In fact, looking back, she had often craved an afternoon of solitude, but she put that down to them working together in the restaurant.
For the first time that day, Millie felt a smile stretch her lips as she thought of her sister and an overwhelming urge to hear her voice descended. She pulled herself out of the swimming pool, grabbed her clothes and jogged back to her studio above the garage. She snatched up a sunflower-yellow beach kaftan she had bought at Anisha’s shop in Soufrière, grabbed a beer from the fridge, then settled on the little balcony overlooking the courtyard and took out her phone.
‘Jen? Hi, it’s Millie.’
‘Hi, Millie, it’s great to hear from you, but do you know what time it is here in Oxford?’
‘Oh, no! I’m so sorry, I completely forgot about the time difference.’
‘It’s okay,’ laughed Jen. ‘Don’t worry I wasn’t asleep. I was just giving the kitchen a last wipe down before Lily’s party tomorrow.’
Millie shoved the image of her own kitchen into the deep, dark crevices of her mind. How could she share the same genes with her sister yet be so completely different when it came to organisational skills and tidiness. She knew that her niece’s fifth birthday party the next day would have been planned down to the very last colour-co-ordinated detail, with nothing left to chance. There would even be a selection of delicious home-baked alternatives for the guests who had allergies or parents with an aversion to sugar.
‘Ah, Jen, I’m so sorry to be missing Lily’s party. Will you give her a huge hug from me and tell her that there’s something special for her in the post? Has Mum arrived safely?’
‘Yes. I picked her up from the airport yesterday. I’m not sure whether I should wait until you get home to tell you…’
‘Tell me what?’ Millie snapped, the familiar tightening of panic invading her chest as she thought of anything happening to her beloved mum, Monique. After the unexpected loss of her father two years ago, her mother had returned to the village in Provence where she grew up to take the local community by storm, quickly making a name for herself with her G&T soirées and her penchant for Latin ballroom dancing. If anything was to happen to her… but to her relief, her sister was laughing.
‘Remember I told you that her friend Solange from salsa class got her navel pierced last month?’
‘Oh my God! Don’t tell me Mum’s gone and…’
‘No, no, no.’
‘Then what?’
‘Are you sitting down?’ Jen giggled, enjoying keeping Millie in suspense.
‘Jen…’
‘She got a tattoo!’
‘A tattoo? Are you winding me up? Mum got a tattoo? What sort of tattoo?’
‘It’s actually quite tasteful. In fact, I’m thinking of getting one myself.’
Millie rolled her eyes. She picked up her beer and took a sip. What was happening to her family? But then another thought occurred to her. Maybe it was her – maybe she had become a boring old stick-in-the-mud, unwilling to venture out of her comfort zone in case disaster was waiting around the corner to claim its next victim. Suddenly she experienced a lightbulb moment. That was exactly what Zach had been trying to get her to understand. That there was a huge, wide world out there to explore, to experience, to enjoy and she should grasp the opportunity to throw herself into every new adventure whenever she could. After all, without Zach’s encouragement, when would she have ever attempted a zip wire ride?
‘Millie? Millie? Are you still there?’
‘Yes, I’m still here. How was the Cornwall Living Show?’
‘Oh, yes, that was great fun, but what I want to know is how’s the Paradise Cookery School? Are you enjoying presenting the classes? What are the students like? I’ve spoken to Claudia a couple of times this week and she told me that you’ve had to divert from the Chocolate and Confetti itinerary. What an awful thing to happen.’
Millie smiled to herself. Jen was a seasoned expert in presenting cookery classes, whether to her pupils at the local primary school, to the new students at catering college or to a gathering of her local WI members. However, as a detail obsessive, she didn’t cope well with any last-minute amendments to her carefully organised schedules. Whereas Millie, on the other hand, was so used to things going pear-shaped because of her chaotic approach to orderliness that she had developed the skills needed to compromise and make it look like that was intended all along – just like she had been able to do during the last two days. Yes, she might still have issues with her self-confidence after what had happened with Luke, but one thing she knew for certain was that she could cook, and bake, and decorate cake pops!
‘Ella and I have everything under control. Imogen’s wedding cake is finished and it looks amazing.’
‘I know. Claudia forwarded me the email Ella sent her with the photographs attached. Was it chocolate sponge?’
‘Yes. Did she send you the photos of the cake pops me, Carla and Harriet made to replace the wedding favours that were also damaged in the fire?’
‘No! Wow, what a fabulous idea! You are a brilliant cake designer, Millie. Oh, I just knew this adventure in the Caribbean would be exactly what you needed. So, enough about the cookery classes, what I want to hear is all the gossip about a guy called Zach that Ella just happened to mention in passing. Have you taken your big sister’s advice about indulging in a little romance over there on that paradise island?’
Millie felt her heart give a sharp nip. If Jen had asked her that question yesterday, she would have delivered a completely different answer. As it was, the last thing she wanted to gossip with her sister about was Zach Barker.
‘Sorry to disappoint you, but there’s nothing to report.’
‘Really? That isn’t what Ella said. She told Claudia that you had gone off for a day exploring the rainforest together. Come on, Millie, spill the details to your old married sister. Oscar’s idea of romance is taking me to the village cricket match to make the teas! Tell me about Zach. He’s Claudia and Tim’s estate manager, isn’t he?’
‘Yes, he’s on secondment from Claudia’s manor house in the Cotswolds where she has her cookery school. I’m surprised you didn’t meet him when you were over there presenting that course for Claudia last Christmas. It’s true, he has shown me some of the island whilst I’ve been here, but we’re just friends, Jen. Nothing else.’ Millie heard a deep intake of breath and knew she was about to be on the receiving end of a lecture about moving on from Luke and that enjoying a holiday fling with no strings attached was the best therapy for the broken-hearted, so she added, ‘Actually, his girlfriend has just arrived from the UK, so I don’t think I’ll be seeing much of him before I fly back home on Monday.’
‘Shame,’ giggled Jen. ‘I checked out his Facebo
ok page and he’s hot!’
Millie felt a dart of regret shoot through her. Wasn’t that exactly what her first impression had been of Zach Barker? Along with his infuriating sarcasm and ability to materialise whenever there was a chance to witness Millie at her least elegant?
‘There must be plenty of other handsome guys on holiday in St Lucia. Doesn’t Ella have a son? Isn’t he a journalist on the local newspaper? Does he have a girlfriend?’
‘Jen…’
‘All I’m saying is you can’t go through life without taking a chance on love. I won’t let you do that. Lily and Sofia do not want to visit an ageing spinster aunt who spends all her time knitting and sewing and rustling up the odd Victoria sponge, ruing the time that has passed her by.’
Millie had no intention of satisfying her sister’s demands by telling her about the date Lottie had arranged for her the previous week with Marc, one of the waiters at the Purple Parrot where she worked. She wasn’t sure which bit of juicy information her sister would enjoy the most; the fact that Marc had left to use the bathroom facilities and not returned, or the fact that he had subsequently been arrested for his part in a drug-running operation. If she hadn’t been put off dating by the fiasco with Luke before that, then she most certainly had been when she had learned about Marc’s fate from Lottie. She was now a fully paid-up member of the Love Cynic Club.
‘Jen, I’m here to work! You might think all I’ve got to do is lie around all day on a sun lounger, sipping cocktails and soaking up the sunshine, but actually I’m spending every single minute shopping for ingredients, testing and tweaking recipes, not to mention the terrifying task of delivering a bespoke cookery course to the standards required by a celebrity TV chef. If you want to know the truth I’m absolutely exhausted.’
‘You’re holding back on something, Millie, I can tell from your voice. I understand if you don’t want to share whatever it is over the phone, but I’m coming down to London as soon as you get back. I’ll treat you to afternoon tea at Fortnum’s and we can have a girly heart-to-heart. Won’t take no for an answer.’