‘In the old dairy. There’s a spare fridge in there.’ Her mother looked at her as if she had a screw loose, needing to be reminded about this. ‘Remember?’
‘I had forgotten. That’s good!’
‘And give Justin a ring for the recipe. He’ll have one or he wouldn’t offer Black Forest gateau.’
‘Oh, it’s OK. I’ve eaten it a few times. I can work it out. Do you think a fatless sponge? Maybe that’s too fiddly. I think a good chocolate cake recipe with lots of ground almonds and good cocoa powder. I had one from Fortnum’s once and it had a pastry base.’
‘Are you OK? You haven’t got a headache?’
‘I’m fine, really! It’s just this bloody cake.’
Louise frowned. ‘You were flattered because Justin asked you to do it and now you’re regretting it.’
Meg relaxed a little and smiled. ‘That’s it exactly.’
‘Don’t worry. You’ll do a brilliant job. And he told me on the way to his hotel yesterday that he’s happy for us to do anything in the way of updating or repairs, as long as they’re not too expensive.’
Meg gave her mother a rather vague smile. ‘So can you and Susan do the breakfasts then? I need to learn how to use this mixer.’
The stand electric mixer was a joy, Meg decided, and its joyfulness didn’t make her feelings about Justin any easier.
She had made three layers of a light chocolate sponge cake which were now cooling. Later she would divide them and turn them into a tower of chocolate, cream and cherries. She could keep back a layer for their own sweet trolley. She could cut the layer in half vertically not horizontally and make sure it was full of cream and fruit to tempt their diners.
While she had the mixer, she made meringues, a chocolate mousse, a couple of meringue cases, and a vacherin using an old recipe that Mme Wilson had shown them: broken meringues layered with cream and fruit and frozen.
Eventually the Black Forest gateau, complete with the pastry layer, was ready. While all the layers of sponge (moistened with kirsch), cream, cherries and chocolate were assembled, Meg wrote a note saying that someone should whip more cream before serving,for the sides of the cake and add chocolate shavings. She’d have done it herself only she didn’t see how she could pack the cake and get it to the other hotel unharmed if she did.
Louise came in to see how she was getting on. ‘That is brilliant, darling!’ she said. ‘It looks absolutely delicious! Like something you’d see in a Frenchpâtisserie.’
‘I wouldn’t go that far,’ said Meg, ‘but it tastes fairly good. It didn’t seem right to send off a dessert and not know what it tasted like.’
‘True,’ said her mother. ‘I’ll have mine after supper. Now, how are you getting it to Justin?’
‘We haven’t made a plan, but maybe you could run it up there for me? You know the way now.’ Meg knew perfectly well she should ring Justin and he could make the arrangements, but she really didn’t want to.
‘You know we’ve got guests coming. I’ll have to be here to welcome them,’ said Louise.
‘I’ll have to be here to cook for them.’
‘Ring Justin and he can decide what he thinks is best,’ said Louise firmly, possibly reading Meg’s mind, and realising how she felt about ringing him.
Meg chose her moment. She waited until the lunchtime service would have been at full throttle and left a message at reception of the Newton-cum-Hardy Hotel. She added the bit that the cake needed finishing off. Then she put it out of her mind and turned her attention to making cakes for afternoon tea and to dinner.
That was the plan, anyway. But she jumped whenever anyone came into the kitchen in case they were Justin.
Meg had just sent Susan off to the dining room with the last of the main courses for an unexpectedly busy dinner service when Justin and Laura appeared.
‘Justin wanted to make sure the cake was up to standard,’ said Laura. ‘So I brought him over. It would have been far more convenient if you’d telephoned earlier, Meg. Although maybe you’ve only just finished it. I did think it would be too much for Meg, didn’t I, Justin?’
Justin nodded.
‘His leg is bothering him,’ Laura went on. ‘I could have done the cake myself; I am properly trained. And I thought you probably wouldn’t be able to find a recipe but Justin felt this little place could do with the business!’ She paused. ‘So where’s the gateau?’
‘Through here,’ said Meg, leading the way to the old dairy. ‘Thank you for the mixer. I’ll just wash it and you can take it back with you.’
‘You can keep it. We don’t need it,’ said Justin.
‘Thank you so much,’ said Meg. ‘That will be really helpful.’ She forced herself to say this. She didn’t want to feel beholden but she didn’t want to give him back the mixer either.
