by Sophie Brent
“I turn up on time and take the photographs that the bride and groom want,” Zoe shrugged. “They are the only people that truly matter. It’s their big day.”
She wrapped her arms around Erin and gave her a big hug. “Fiona and Ethan are going to love your baking and make you rich and famous. How does that sound? Better? Good. Now, tell me about the treats you are making for the party tonight.”
“Zoe Hanson, I’m surprised at you. That would spoil the surprise,” Erin laughed. “Besides, Fiona said that she planned a nice relaxing dinner party with her mother and her bridesmaids. No strippers or naughty chocolate hen party shapes allowed at Abbotsdown Hall! Classy. So that is what you are going to get. Coffee sized cakes and luscious Italian pastries. All made fresh today.”
Her right hand flicked towards the table. “I’m almost finished here, then it’s a twenty-minute drive to the hotel. Emma had already briefed the chef about the wedding cake when I called earlier, so they’re expecting me this afternoon. It should only take ten minutes to unload everything and have a chat about tomorrow.” Erin looked up at Zoe and grinned. “Then I will officially, without doubt, be free to put my feet up for an hour and enjoy the sunshine, while you are tucking into a delicious dinner then scoffing the treats.”
“Droolicous. I can’t wait,” Zoe squealed and hoisted her camera bag higher on her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ve got the message. The sooner I leave to go and get changed, the sooner you can get back to working your magic. Are you popping into the spa after you have made the delivery? I’m sure the girls would love to meet you.”
“That sounds so good,” Erin sighed. “But some of us have a deli to run and Saturday is still my busiest day. I have to get everything ready before Carol and Prisha arrive in the morning.”
“Then see you tomorrow! This is going to be a wedding to remember!”
Two hours later, Erin was beginning to wonder if she was going to get to Abbotsdown Hall before dark.
The traffic in Kingsmede had been fine, but the moment she hit the narrow side roads heading towards Abbotsdown, there had been one delay after another. Narrow lanes and combine harvesters meant one thing – she had to travel at their speed, not hers, and there was nowhere for her to turn around and try a different route.
Then just as she thought that she was making progress and the tractor turned into a wheat field, the cars in front of her slowed down to a stop. Someone had broken down and was blocking the lane. Erin got out of her van after ten minutes and peered around the bend in the lane. Two elderly ladies were standing at the side of the road inspecting their vintage mini as though it was a museum piece, which it probably was.
Another motorist was chatting to them, but it was a lorry driver coming in the other direction who had the bright idea to actually help them change the punctured tire.
Result! She was finally on her way. But a quick twenty-minute journey had turned into a hot and tiring trek of almost an hour, which didn’t do anything for her blood pressure or the cakes in the refrigeration unit in the back of the van.
She had never been so grateful to see the imposing stone entrance gateposts to Abbotsdown Hall. The long curving road to the old Victorian hunting lodge was lined with beautifully trimmed shrubs and topiary balls made from box plants.
As she pulled into the car park at the rear of the hotel, Erin felt that she could finally relax a little. She was here!
Stepping out of the van, she looked around at the sumptuous gardens and open countryside. The Gothic-Renaissance design building had been extended over the years and a long conservatory room in gleaming white stretched out towards a fountain and gazebo which would be perfect for wedding photos.
Zoe was going to love it!
Thinking of Zoe, Erin quickly sent her a text to let her know that she had been held up in traffic, but she could reassure Emma and Fiona that she had finally made it with the precious cargo intact.
Grabbing her bag, Erin strolled down the path towards the tall carved stone entrance to the hotel and was just about to go inside and ask reception where she could make the delivery, when she spotted a familiar face standing on the lawn.
The last time she had seen Fiona Hanson was at Zoe’s twenty-first birthday party, but there was no mistaking the stunning brunette. Fiona had been sent away to boarding school, so Erin and her friends only saw her in the school holidays, but Fiona had always seemed to be awkward and ill at ease with people she didn’t know. How that had changed! The skinny gangly girl in the braces had turned into a slim, pretty woman with clear peaches and cream skin and the kind of straight shoulder length hair Erin could only dream about.
Suddenly the sleepless nights and hard work melted away. All Erin could see was a lovely English rose who deserved all of the happiness in the world.
Fiona Hanson was going to make a beautiful bride.
Erin walked casually across the lawn to greet Fiona, but just as she was about to speak a short stout woman marched around the corner of the building and started shouting and gesticulating to Fiona with short stabbing moves.
There was no mistaking this voice. Erin had never met Emma Wilson in person, but she certainly recognized the tone and the slight Scottish accent. But why on earth was Emma arguing with Fiona? She was her maid of honour for goodness sake! Emma should be supporting Fiona, not fighting with her.
What was going on?
“Fiona!” Erin smiled and strode purposefully up to Fiona with her hand stretched out. “How lovely to see you! What a fabulous location.”
Fiona turned to face Erin and to her horror, Erin could see tears in the woman’s eyes. “Erin,” she blinked as they shook hands. “Is that you? It’s been so long.”
“The one and only,” Erin grinned, determined to stay positive. “I’m so sorry that I got held up in traffic. But I’m here now with your very special delivery. Just point me in the direction of the kitchens and I can get your wedding cakes into the hotel refrigerator.”
“I don’t believe it!” Emma Wilson gasped and grabbed Erin’s arm so firmly that she was probably going to leave a bruise. “You are not telling me that those cakes are still in your van in this heat! Are you quite mad? First, you are late, then you insist on ruining the delivery. Well, this is totally unacceptable.”
Then Emma flung both hands in the air and rolled her eyes. “I have walked into a total madhouse. I was told that you were a professional baker, not an amateur.” She turned up her nose and glanced over her shoulder at Fiona. “I knew that we should have gone to that London bakery which all of the celebrity wedding planners use. Local bakers are so unreliable.”
Erin could scarcely believe her ears! It took all of her resolve to fight back the urge to tell Emma Wilson precisely what she thought of her opinion of local bakers.
“Then I’d better head straight to the kitchen,” she said to Fiona in a direct polite voice. “No time to waste.”
“Not until I have personally inspected those cakes,” Emma said, even though Erin had been speaking to Fiona. “Who knows what you have come up with? There’s still time to order replacements.”
“It would be my pleasure,” Erin coughed. “But only in the air-conditioned hotel kitchen. Don’t you agree? Excellent.” She lifted her chin. “Would you like to show me the way, Emma? I’m sure Fiona has lots of things to catch up with.”
Emma snarled something towards Erin as she marched past her towards the car park where Erin had parked her van. In the few seconds before she followed her, Erin took a deep calming breath and looked across to Fiona, who simply shook her head, then silently mouthed the words “thank you” before strolling towards the hotel entrance.
Erin gritted her teeth and rolled back her shoulders.
Zoe Hanson. You owe me. Big time.
Chapter Two
Erin leaned back against the bench on the patio behind her deli and bit into another slice of toasted raisin and cinnamon bread.
The dawn had just come up on the village green and the
sun was already warming the oak and beech trees and reflecting back from the carefully tended grass. There were very few people around at six on a Saturday morning, but she had already waved to several of her regular customers who had decided to walk their dogs before it got too hot.
It promised to be another warm and sunny Saturday morning in Kingsmede. Fiona and Ethan were going to have a magical wedding day.
Erin scrolled through the messages on her phone as she ate her breakfast. Zoe had texted her around eleven to say that she was back home after a brilliant dinner party with Fiona and her friends. Best of all, the ladies had all adored her dessert cakes and pastries and promised to pop into the deli to buy more before they headed home after the wedding weekend.
Thank you, Zoe! Erin raised her beaker of steaming hot tea in silent salute. The cakes were samples of the wedding cake recipes, so, fingers crossed, the wedding guests would love the cake. That almost made up for yesterday’s fiasco at the hotel. What a day!
But it had been worth it. The wedding cake was now safe and sound inside a huge catering refrigerator in the special events storeroom at the hotel.
The French dessert chef had insisted on peeking inside the cake boxes, then simply crossed his arms and shrugged at her, before telling her they were okay. Which to Erin was a result, since according to Emma Wilson, they were borderline acceptable and “would have to do.” Thanks, Emma! You are so generous. Not.
Taking another drink of tea, Erin checked her watch. She had been awake for two hours, unable to sleep in the heat of her bedroom, but that was okay. It had given her more time to get everything prepared and baked for the deli. The last thing she wanted was to run out of deli platters on a busy Saturday at the peak of the tourist season.
The refrigerator was stocked full, and all of the pastries and baked goods were on cooling racks in the kitchen, filling the air with the tantalizing aroma of freshly baked rolls.
Prisha had promised to arrive around seven for an early breakfast so that Erin could get ready for the wedding reception in plenty of time. Emma might be the wedding planner, but Fiona had agreed, in writing, that nobody was going to touch that wedding cake until Erin got there!
Erin pushed up and strolled back into her kitchen for another slice of toast. She was just about to reach for the marmalade when her phone started ringing out the theme tune about Mambo Italiano.
Strange! Who would call her at six in the morning? She quickly checked the number and grinned. “Hi, Zoe. How are you this bright Saturday...” Then she winced and held the phone at arm’s length for a moment. “Zoe? Calm down and stop shouting. What’s going on? What? Are you there now? Is anyone hurt? Right. I am on my way. Stay where you are.”
Ten minutes later, Erin was dressed and running towards her ancient white van, scrolling down the numbers on her phone as she went. Please be out of bed, Prisha. Please.
“Prisha. Are you awake? Yes, I know it’s crazy early, but I have to get to Abbotsford Hall. There was a fire in the hotel kitchen last night and Zoe is totally panicking about Fiona’s wedding. Nobody was hurt, but I delivered the wedding cake yesterday.”
Scrabbling to insert the key into the ignition, Erin tossed her bag onto the passenger seat and started the engine as she talked. “I don’t know, Prisha. I’ll call you back as soon as I can, but you’re going to have to open the deli without me. Is that okay? Everything is prepped and ready to serve. Thanks. What’s that? Yes, I hope the wedding cake is still there too. Bye for now.”
Erin closed the call and sat with her forehead resting on the steering wheel. She didn’t have time to make another wedding cake. It had to be okay. It simply had to.
“I’m really sorry, Miss Kelly. The fire started in the special events storeroom around midnight, and it took ten minutes for the fire brigade to arrive. It didn’t take long for them to put the fire out, but the smoke was quite intense... Well, come and see for yourself.”
“Do you know how it started, Mr. Blake?” Erin asked the hotel’s deputy manager who had come out to see her only moments after she had arrived at the reception desk.
“They are telling us that it was almost certainly an electrical fault in a catering fridge,” he replied and guided her around the outside of the building towards the kitchen delivery area, which she recognized from the day before. “We lost power to the entire bottom floor of the hotel, including the kitchen and stores.”
The bright warm sunshine couldn’t warm the growing pool of icy water that was starting to form in the pit of Erin’s stomach.
Erin sucked in a breath to try and calm her racing heart and instantly started coughing. The smoke might have gone, but the air in the car park still carried the stench of burning electrics and soot.
“What about the kitchens?” She choked. “My friend’s cousin has her wedding reception booked here for this afternoon.”
“The Hanson-Peters wedding,” he nodded. “That’s in hand and we expect the restaurant to be up and running again by lunchtime. There shouldn’t be a problem with the reception at all.”
“You’re going ahead with it?” Erin gasped, amazed at what she had just heard.
The young man in the smart suit paused and turned to face her. “We had a lucky escape. The fire was limited to the store area we use for special events. It’s filthy and waterlogged from the sprinkler system, but the fire doors did their job, and the fire was completely contained. None of the equipment or food in the main kitchen were damaged at all. The main walk-in fridges and freezers held temperature. We had plenty of dry ice in store and the power was only out for about an hour.”
He gave a small shoulder shrug. “The kitchen might smell a little from the smoke, but we’ve brought in extra air conditioning units and our cleaning teams are loading the dishwashers as we speak. They should start steam cleaning the work areas in the next hour or two.”
He glanced at his wristwatch. “We plan to inspect the kitchen about ten and get the chefs back to work in plenty of time for the reception later this afternoon.”
Then he looked up and nodded his head towards the store area where Erin had stood the afternoon before. She turned around and stood in silent horror, totally shocked at what she was seeing.
The entire store area was a burnt-out shell.
The door had been taken off and was leaning against a nearby wall so that the blackened ceiling and walls were open to the air for all to see.
And standing right in the middle of the doorway at a weird angle, was the large double-door catering fridge where she had so lovingly placed her cake boxes. It was covered in black soot and had obvious scorch marks all around the back and sides.
“The fire brigade dragged the fridge out last night so that they could tackle the smoke at the back of the room,” Mr. Blake commented. “That’s when they saw the damage to the switch and motor, which had melted away. We only use that fridge for special events, so it is normally turned off.”
He must have noticed how reluctant Erin was to go anywhere near the fridge and find out just how bad things were. His right hand flicked towards the store. “It’s quite safe now. The entire wiring system to the store area was isolated and disconnected by the hotel electricians.”
“It’s not safety I am worried about Mr. Blake, it’s what’s inside. Those wedding cake boxes are made of white card. They’re not going to be much of a barrier to smoke and fumes.”
“Why don’t we find out?” he suggested and started walking over towards the fridge. Erin took another breath, which made her cough again, lifted her chin and slowly followed him across the grass.
It was even worse than she had imagined.
One of the fridge doors had swung open and she could see that some of the contents had spilled onto the grass. The smaller of the wedding cake boxes was lying on its side on the grass next to an overturned fruit bowl. The white box was dirty and crushed, and Erin could already see that the soft lemon cake inside had been completely ruined. The firefighters had been too busy getting t
he blaze under control to notice that they were trampling on her work.
Hardly daring to speak, she stepped closer and tugged open the other fridge door. Melted bags of salad leaves fell out onto the grass, but Erin’s attention was totally fixed on the scorched brown cake box which was still on the shelf where she had placed it. The back of the box had almost melted with the heat, and as she slowly lifted it out, great flakes of card fell away. It only took a moment to peek inside at what was left of her lovely cake. It stank of smoke and the icing had melted into a puddle of burnt sugar on top of a sooty blackened cake.
Lowering it onto the grass, Erin stood back and wrapped her arms around her middle. Despite the heat of the sun on her face, she felt chilled and sick. She could have cried.
All that work! Poor Fiona.
Mr. Blake’s voice faltered. “I’m sorry that we didn’t have a chance to save the contents. Most of us have been up all night trying to get the power back on and taking care of our guests. They were naturally very concerned when they saw the smoke.”
“Of course, the guests had to your priority,” Erin replied with a lump in her throat. “I’m sure that you did a great job.”
Then she took one final look at her ruined cakes, blinked and looked around. “Where are you serving breakfast this morning? I arranged to meet some of my friends who are staying here for the wedding.”
“Ah,” he smiled as though relieved to be able to tell her something positive. “That would the main bar. We have a small kitchen which is normally used for bar meals and snacks, but there is a full coffee and tea service.”
With a sigh, he reached out and shook Erin’s hand. “I appreciate your understanding, Miss Kelly. Please feel free to join the wedding party for breakfast and use any of the hotel facilities as our guest. It would be our pleasure to take care of you.”
“Thank you. A coffee would be very welcome right now.”
“Erin! We’re over here!”