by Confetti
‘Okay, it looks like someone needs cheering up.’ Ella pushed herself out of her chair and meandered into the kitchen. ‘And what is the best treatment for a bout of melancholy?’
Millie stared at Ella. She had known the Caribbean chef for less than three weeks, but she felt as though she was an old friend. Someone who knew her from the inside out, not the other way around. Her spirits shot up another notch. She only had a few days left in this wonderful island paradise and it would be a tragedy to spend them moping over something that had never happened. If, in the very unlikely event that she and Zach had got together, it was only going to be a holiday fling at best, and whilst that would have pleased her sister no end, it was not what she needed at all. Actually, she thought to herself as she followed Ella into the kitchen, she had probably had a narrow escape from falling head first into yet another relationship calamity.
‘Well, in my book, the best medicine for sadness is a session of baking.’
‘Exactly – so let’s gets started!’ beamed Ella, tying her aprons strings securely and reaching for the ingredients she needed for a morning at the coalface of culinary labour. ‘Have you heard anything from Julia?’
‘Not yet.’ Millie reached into her pocket to check her phone. ‘Hang on. Here’s a text from Imogen. It must have just arrived.’ She scrolled through the missive quickly. ‘Ah, they’re not coming today. Too much to organise for the wedding on Sunday. I’m not surprised.’
‘That poor girl,’ sighed Ella, sifting flour into a bowl. ‘She must be ruing the day she decided to get married abroad.’
‘It was Julia’s idea. Imogen and Alex wanted to have their wedding ceremony at the local parish church followed by a marquee in the garden for their reception.’
‘Right, then – if the Paradise Cookery School is closed for business this beautiful Friday morning, then we’re going to bake a few batches of cupcakes and take them down to Lottie at the Purple Parrot. We deserve a break.’
‘Sounds like a plan,’ smiled Millie, already starting to feel better as she assembled the ingredients and started to separate the polka dot bun cases into the baking trays. ‘Why don’t we double up the mixture and deliver a box of cupcakes to the hotel afterwards as a treat for Imogen and her wedding party? I feel so sorry for her – and Julia.’
‘A wonderful idea, Millie.’
A gentle ripple of calypso music added to the relaxed ambience in the kitchen and within the hour they had amassed five dozen cupcakes, decorated in a variety of frostings from ginger and lime, to pineapple and coconut, and chocolate chip and orange zest. Millie was particularly proud of the lemon drizzle cupcakes she had made from the lemons she had harvested herself from the trees next to the pool.
Ella packed the cupcakes up into two huge Tupperware boxes – one destined for Lottie at the Purple Parrot and the other one for Imogen at the hotel – and called for a taxi to take them down the hill to Soufrière. Inevitably, her friend Clavie was sent to collect them. His vehicle was so ancient that it steadfastly refused to navigate the steep incline up to the villa and he told them he would meet them at the bottom of the driveway in twenty minutes.
‘Ready?’ asked Millie, ditching a handful of utensils in the already jam-packed sink and casting her cocoa-splodged apron into the mix.
Ella rolled her eyes as she carefully folded her still-pristine apron and slotted it back in the kitchen drawer. She hooked her arm around one of the plastic containers and handed the remaining one to Millie.
‘Ready.’
Together they trotted down the driveway, chatting companionably about ideas for new recipes until Ella stopped suddenly and peered into the foliage to her left. Millie squinted in the same direction and could just about make out a dark silhouette lurking amongst the cocoa palms. As her vision grew accustomed to the gloom between the trees, she realised that it wasn’t one person, but in fact a couple. The woman had her spine pressed against one of the trunks and the man was leaning towards her in an intimate pose, their faces mere inches apart.
An explosion of recognition burst into Millie’s brain and her heart squeezed painfully. It was Zach and Chloe. She felt Ella’s hand on her arm gently urging her onwards as Clavie was waiting for them at the bottom of the hill, but she couldn’t drag her eyes away from the scene. Until that moment, she knew she had harboured a smidgeon of optimism that Zach would have reaffirmed his decision that he did not want a permanent relationship with Chloe, but now that hope had been extinguished.
Fortunately, neither Zach nor Chloe had noticed their presence – obviously too wrapped up in each other to allow the outside world to intrude on their bubble of romance. Millie hadn’t realised she had been holding her breath and gulped in a lungful of oxygen, yet she still felt lightheaded. She smiled weakly at the sympathy she saw reflected in Ella’s chocolate brown eyes and followed her mutely to the taxi for their ride down to Soufrière.
Chapter Fourteen
‘Hi, Lottie,’ called Ella trotting into the kitchen of the Purple Parrot and depositing the cupcakes on the bench.
‘Wow! Ella. These look amazing. Thank you. Hi, Millie. How are things up at the Paradise Cookery School? Have the chocoholics had their fix?’
Lottie pulled Millie into a warm, jasmine-infused hug before leading her and Ella out to a table on the bleached wooden decking overlooking the beach and the sparkling Caribbean Sea beyond. The majestic Pitons presided over the whole scene, which looked like something straight from a film set due to the presence of a multi-sailed galleon at anchor in the bay which had just disgorged its passengers into the streets of Soufrière for a morning of shopping and sampling the local cuisine.
The Purple Parrot was busy with diners but Lottie sat down next to Millie and signalled for Travis behind the bar to bring them some drinks. Now that Millie was relaxing in a comfortable seat, enjoying the myriad boats bobbing about on the ocean, she was able to put the scene with Zach and Chloe out of her mind and concentrate on enjoying her first full day’s break from her duties at the Paradise Cookery School since she had arrived on St Lucia.
‘It’s been a strange week, to be honest,’ Millie told Lottie as Ella unpacked the cupcakes onto one of Claudia’s china plates and they all reached for their favourite.
‘Hello everyone,’ beamed Travis, Soufrière’s answer to Damien Hirst currently moonlighting as a waiter, as he set down three goldfish bowl-sized glasses filled to the sugared rim with a lurid green liquid that looked like pureed grass. ‘Okay, so today, especially for my three favourite women, I have the pleasure of presenting you with… a trio of Purple Parrot cocktails with a Travisesque twist!’
If Millie didn’t already know that Travis usually made his living in Soufrière as an artist, she would never have guessed he had a creative bone in his body when she saw the car crash cocktail that had been placed on the table in front of her. The glass had been stuffed with miniature umbrellas and twizzle sticks and finished with a sprig of frosted mint. She prayed that it would taste better than it looked.
‘Thanks, Travis.’
‘Hey, no problem, man. Enjoy.’ And he sauntered off to chat to a pair of Scandinavian teenagers who were making it abundantly clear that they would like nothing more than to help Travis shake his cocktails.
Millie decided to throw caution to the wind and chance a sip. She wasn’t in the habit of indulging in spirit-based drinks at eleven o’clock in the morning, but she was in the Caribbean and now that her services were no longer needed at the Paradise Cookery School, why shouldn’t she relax a little?
‘Mmm, that’s absolutely amazing!’ Far from being the grass-flavoured sludge Millie had been expecting, the ice-cold, mint-infused cocktail smashed into her taste buds and sent tingles cascading down her throat.
‘Don’t look so surprised!’ giggled Lottie, flicking her long magenta hair over her shoulder, causing the silver necklaces at her throat to glisten in the sun. ‘Me, Anisha and Travis have spent all week devising and tasting a whole new menu
of signature cocktails for the Purple Parrot. It was tough work, but someone had to do it! Well, we couldn’t exactly continue offering Andy’s Blasts, could we?’
‘And nor should you!’ exclaimed Ella, having tasted the cocktail and shoved it away in disgust. ‘That man, and so many others like him, are a menace to our communities. They prey on the vulnerable for their own financial gain and I, for one, will not stand by and let them get away with it. I shall be contacting the authorities to make sure that Andrew O’Leary is given the stiffest of penalties when his case eventually gets to court.’
When the Purple Parrot’s erstwhile proprietor had been arrested for his part in a drug-smuggling incident, Lottie had been presented with a decision to either close the popular restaurant-cum-bar at one of the busiest times of the year or step up to the challenge of managing the restaurant with the help of friends. Like everyone who was part of the St Lucian community, she didn’t have to wait long for the offers of help to come flooding in, and Travis and Anisha had taken over the jobs of barman and waitress respectively, enabling the Purple Parrot to continue offering fabulous food, made from the freshest of ingredients, and a long list of potent rum cocktails to the hungry and thirsty tourists who descended on Soufrière every day to access a little slice of paradise.
‘I agree with you, Ella. I just wish he’d left his business in a better state,’ sighed Lottie. ‘There’s a queue of creditors howling for their money and nothing in the till to pay them with. I had no idea it was so difficult to run a bar. Perhaps I should have let the police close it down until Andrew’s future is decided.’
‘No way! The Purple Parrot is an institution which can only go from strength to strength now that you are in charge!’ beamed Ella, her expression reflecting her absolute confidence in Lottie’s capabilities and securing a grateful smile from Soufrière’s newest bar manager.
‘Well, I don’t know what I would do if Dylan, Travis and Anisha hadn’t rallied round to help out. Hey, Millie, instead of flying home on Monday, why don’t you stay on here in St Lucia? You can have a free rein in the kitchen, experiment with all the exotic ingredients you want?’
Millie glanced at Ella. She would have liked nothing more than to jump at the chance to run her own kitchen again, especially in the Caribbean, never mind spend more time with these wonderful people, friends she had grown to love and trust. And maybe she would have given Lottie’s offer serious consideration had it been issued the previous day if it had meant that she could have continued her friendship with Zach, but that was no longer a possibility.
Whilst she wasn’t looking forward to leaving St Lucia, she didn’t have to be psychic to predict that the atmosphere around the villa would be uncomfortable if she was going to have to avoid taking her morning run around the estate for fear of coming into contact with Zach and Chloe. Anyway, Poppy would never forgive her if she abandoned her job at the patisserie.
‘Thanks, Lottie. It’s a very kind offer, and I am tempted, but I’ve already been here a week longer than Étienne agreed. If I don’t go back to work next week, I’m not sure I’ll have a job to go back to.’
‘Life’s not all about work, Millie.’
Millie couldn’t stop herself from smiling when she saw the young girl’s gaze slip towards the Dive Shack next door where the object of her affections was busy getting his boat ready for the next influx of enthusiastic divers. Dylan must have sensed their scrutiny because he straightened up and waved at them, his blond, surfer-dude hair sticking up as he grinned at Lottie.
‘How’s Dylan?’
‘Fab!’ Lottie’s eyes sparkled. ‘We’ve just got back from a trip to Castries market. Look what he bought me.’ Lottie held out her hand for Millie to inspect the slender silver ring, set with a tiny turquoise stone. ‘Oh, it’s not an engagement ring or anything like that, but it doesn’t matter. I love it!’
From Lottie’s wide smile, it was clear to Millie that she loved the gift-giver even more. Her heart twisted with affection for the two lovebirds, who had sealed their partnership only a week ago when Dylan had discovered her boss had been using his boat for illicit purposes and Andrew’s life had unravelled.
‘Hey, hang on! It’s Friday!’
‘Yee…ees…’ laughed Millie.
‘So why are you and Ella here? I thought Chocolate and Confetti was a five-day course? Why aren’t you up at the villa doing what you do best? Showcasing and tasting delicious chocolatey recipes?’ Lottie screwed up her nose in confusion as she selected a strand of hair to coil between her fingers, the jumble of silver bangles jangling from her wrist to her elbow.
‘As I said, it’s a bit of a long story.’ Millie proceeded to give Lottie a brief synopsis of the problems that had befallen Imogen and Alex’s wedding arrangements.
‘So is there still no news from the wedding planner?’
‘No. It’s as though she’s disappeared off the face of the earth.’
‘I bet she’s just taken their cash and dashed,’ declared Lottie, her kohl-ringed eyes wide with sympathy.
‘You could be right, but then, why did Fleur meet up with Imogen and Alex when they arrived on Sunday to go through everything? Imogen said neither of them had any suspicions at all that she wouldn’t come through with everything she’d promised them.’
‘Oh, Imogen must be really stressed out.’
‘I’m not sure about Imogen – all she wants to do is to marry Alex, and she can do that minus a cake and a few wedding favours. She’s not in the least bit concerned about all the bells and whistles, but her mum Julia is obsessed with the details, right down to the release of a kaleidoscope of butterflies when they exchanged their vows.’
‘So where are the wedding party today?’
‘I’m not absolutely sure. I got a text from Imogen to say she couldn’t make it, so Ella and I decided to whip up a few dozen of our amazing cupcakes instead; there’s a batch for you to hand out your customers with their coffees and a batch to take up to the hotel to cheer Julia up.’
‘Nothing like a sweet treat to bring a smile to your face! Thanks, Millie. You and Ella are really kind. I’m so lucky to have friends like you. I’m going to miss you when you leave. And, I’m sure I’m not the only one.’ Lottie’s eyes held a twinkle of mischief. ‘How’s Zach? We haven’t seen him in the bar all week. Dylan was asking if you’ve got him locked away in that wooden lodge of his. Have you been keeping him busy with the cookery school stuff?’
‘I… erm… no I haven’t, actually.’ Millie felt her stomach give an uncomfortable lurch as the disturbing image of Zach with his arms entwined round Chloe’s slender waist floated across her vision. ‘His girlfriend has arrived from the UK.’
‘His girlfriend?’ spluttered Lottie. ‘Zach hasn’t got a girlfriend. If you’re talking about Chloe, they finished, like, months ago. He told Dylan all about their break-up before he came over to St Lucia – how she gave him an ultimatum about producing an engagement ring, so he decided it was the kindest thing to do to end the relationship before she got hurt even more. And hadn’t she met a new guy? I heard that snippet of news straight from Zach’s mouth and so did you! Didn’t he propose to her at the top of the Eiffel Tower? I distinctly remember thinking how romantic that would be.’
‘I know, I’m confused too. I don’t know the details, I just know that Chloe is here and Zach’s happy about it.’
Lottie’s face screamed scepticism but she didn’t have the chance to contradict Millie’s interpretation because Millie’s phone had sprung into life.
‘Hi, Imogen.’ Millie paused, resting her eyes on Ella’s. ‘No, it’s no problem. Imogen, really, you don’t have to apologise. Ella and I absolutely understand. In fact, we were on our way up to the hotel with a basket full of cupcakes to cheer everyone up. Great, then we’ll see you in thirty minutes.’
Chapter Fifteen
‘Wow, I thought Claudia’s plantation house was picturesque, but this place is truly stunning,’ said Millie, belatedly drawing he
r mouth closed as she surveyed the luxury boutique hotel nestled amid the manicured tropical gardens against the dramatic backdrop of the Pitons.
‘Spectacular,’ murmured Ella.
Millie stood on the pathway, lined with a welcome guard of honour fashioned from palm trees, and drank in the scene. A veil of tranquillity descended onto her shoulders and she felt all the stress of the day melt away from her temples. To her left was an area of decking laid out with wooden sun loungers and umbrellas overlooking the reason the hotel had been built there in the first place – probably the best view on the island of the Pitons. All around her, the soft melody of birdsong was accompanied by the rustle of leaves and the faint tinkle of running water. It was an oasis of calm in a chaotic world. She felt like she had fallen asleep and been transported to the Garden of Eden.
‘Come on, we can’t stay here. Imogen is expecting us,’ whispered Millie, fearful of raising her voice and disturbing the peace.
Following the hand-carved signposts, Millie lead them along the meandering gravel pathways to the outside bar where Imogen had arranged for them to meet for a drink.
When they arrived, Millie almost laughed. With all its rustic charm, the bar at the Purple Parrot quite clearly occupied the opposite end of the spectrum from the drinking establishment that had emerged from within a canopy of glossy palm trees. With polished wooden floors and matching furniture, the place reeked of opulence and elegant splendour. The white muslin curtains, hung from the eaves to the floor, had been drawn back with twisted silk ties woven with gold threads. A large wooden trunk loitered in the corner with the word ‘Games’ stencilled along the side. Millie experienced a sudden urge to investigate but before she could do so, Imogen rushed into the bar.
‘Millie! Ella! Oh, it’s wonderful to see you.’
The bride-to-be exchanged kisses with them both. She looked stunning in an ivory linen sundress that just about skimmed her shapely thighs. Millie glanced down at her white capri pants and striped scarlet T-shirt and wondered why she hadn’t been bestowed with a slice of the body-confidence pie. Then she reminded herself that Imogen had probably spent most of the last year preparing for the approaching weekend so it was no surprise she looked so polished.