* * *
Tad couldn’t get out of that place quickly enough. He’d been a complete fool. In a matter of days he’d gone from dreaming about hosting cookery shows on TV with Billie Forsythe-Rogers, or running a massive restaurant for her in central London, or even remaining where he was at Casa del Cibo, but with a booking system overwhelmed by people clamouring to grab a place on a cookery course thanks to a positive write-up in the newspaper – he’d gone from that to his current state. Trudging through the streets of Riva, hands shoved into pockets as he realised his world had fallen apart. Again.
That woman was going to ruin his life. And why? Because she’d been dumped by her slippery, narcissistic, fame-obsessed boyfriend, had behaved like a spoilt child throughout the morning, and Tad hadn’t managed to keep quiet about it. The irony was he hadn’t even known about the break-up until the start of the lesson – if anyone was less interested in what Kelly Straker got up to than he was, Tad would love to meet them.
And while Tad had sounded bullish about his ability to pick up the pieces of his life and start over, should he have to, he was beginning to realise that he might have misjudged his own fortitude.
Surprising, then, that all the practical thoughts about what had happened – and all his other worries – were overshadowed by a single image. Amy, staring at him as he apologised for something he didn’t think he’d got wrong. It was as though the hours they’d spent walking around Riva, sharing time with one another, hadn’t happened. That the night they’d spent together hadn’t played out in the way he remembered, but instead he’d somehow taken advantage of her. If he had got it so badly wrong, there could be a lot more on the line than his career, but somehow there was far more complexity to Amy’s expression. There didn’t seem to be any anger or malice in her expression – if anything she was keeping her expression firmly in neutral, which seemed bizarre in the face of what Billie had said.
Maybe he had sleepwalked into making a huge mistake, but it had been Amy who had initiated every part of their time together. Hadn’t it?
And yet she hadn’t said a word, hadn’t come to his defence – and what conclusion could he reach from that except that he’d somehow completely misinterpreted the whole thing?
Tad kept walking, unaware of exactly where he was headed, as he did his best to work out how he’d managed to get absolutely everything so very wrong.
* * *
Billie’s Lemon Tart – not that she ate any of it…
For the pastry:
250g plain flour, some extra for dusting
Pinch of salt
75g butter, chilled and diced
50g lard, chilled and diced
50g icing sugar
2 egg yolks
For the filling:
6 eggs
150g caster sugar
Zest and juice of 4 lemons
250g ricotta
250g double cream
This recipe makes a tart for 8–10 people, but nobody got to eat the one Billie made. Nobody enjoyed any of the lemon tarts they made that day because of the way she’d ruined their final lesson. But Tad included the recipe in his ‘haste ye back’ email anyway, so everyone could enjoy lemon tart at home, instead.
Pastry: put the flour and salt into a bowl. Add butter and lard and rub them in with your fingers until the mixture resembles fine breadcrumbs. Stir in sugar, then egg yolks and the mix should come together. If too crumbly add a tablespoon of cold water. Shape dough into a ball, cling-film it and chill in fridge for an hour.
Preheat oven to 180°C/Fan 160°C/Gas 4. Roll out pastry on floured surface and line a fluted tart dish with a diameter of 28cm. Trim excess pastry. Line the pastry with baking paper and fill the dish with baking beans. Bake the pastry for 15 mins, then remove paper and beans and bake for a further 5 mins until the pastry in the centre is set. The sides should be a light golden brown. Remove from the oven and set aside to cool.
Reduce oven heat to 150°C/Fan 130°C/Gas 2.
Filling: mix the eggs, sugar and lemon zest together until sugar has dissolved. Add ricotta and cream, whisk until the mixture is smooth. Add lemon juice and whisk again – the mixture might look like it’s curdled when you add the lemon juice; keep whisking – it’ll be fine.
Pour the filling into a jug. Place the tart dish on a baking tray and place on oven shelf pulled out far enough to be able to pour in the filling easily. Trying to carry a brimming tart full of liquid and sliding it into the oven always ends in disaster – although it couldn’t have made that last lesson much worse.
Bake the tart for 40–45 mins until the filling is just set – it should still have a little movement in the centre. Remove from oven and allow to cool to room temperature. Chill until ready to serve.
