‘Honestly, Molly. This has nothing to do with me, ask George.’
She hovered in the doorway. She could tell by Cam’s face he was telling the truth. ‘I know you’re willing George to follow in your footsteps but he’s a little too young to be baking bread to that standard at the moment.’
‘Oh, I agree.’
‘What are you trying to tell me? Who baked it then?’
‘According to George, it was Bree.’
They stared at each other then back at the slice of loaf that was left. Cam reached up to Great-Uncle’s Ted recipe bible and opened it up carefully. ‘Great-Uncle Ted baked something similar when he won the competition. Look…’ Cam slid the book over towards Molly. ‘The round plaited loaf with an element of chocolate, but this…’ He pointed to the even layer of chocolate that ran through the middle of the loaf. ‘You’re right, it is pure genius. The consistency, the plaiting of the bread, the shape, the swirls and the chocolate layer. That layer could actually be flavoured so many different ways. Orange chocolate, milk, white chocolate, you could have a Milky Way layer … absolutely anything.’
Molly walked back over to the counter and stared at the bread. ‘Bree baked this? Are you sure?’
Cam was nodding.
‘But this looks damn-near perfect. How the hell has she learned to bake like this?’
Cam shrugged. ‘I’ve no idea.’
He still couldn’t believe the taste and perfection of the loaf. It had taken him umpteen attempts with the help of celebrity chef and baker Andrew Glossop to even get the consistency right, never mind looking like a loaf. How had Bree done it? ‘She’s even managed to get the plaiting perfectly symmetrical. That’s a skill in itself.’
‘I don’t want to state the obvious but isn’t this exactly what you need for the competition?’ Molly could feel the excitement rising in her voice.
Cam was quiet, still looking down at the loaf. ‘It is but I’m looking for something a little different. But she’s had me thinking, with this layer running through the middle.’
‘You’ve been thinking about an entry?’
‘Yes, but Molly, I’ve made a decision. I’ve decided not to enter this year.’ Cam was not meeting her eye. ‘And I know that’s not what you want to hear.’
‘But—’
Cam put up his hand like an over-zealous traffic warden. Molly knew he didn’t want to get into this conversation but she didn’t understand why he was so adamant about not entering.
‘I don’t understand. According to Dixie, you’ve been hungry for this moment, hoping one day that invite would land on the mat.’
Hearing those words, Cam’s eyebrows shot up and Molly knew she’d said the wrong thing.
‘You’ve been talking about me, haven’t you? You’ve told my grandmother I’ve been invited to compete after I asked you to keep it to ourselves.’
Molly exhaled. ‘Sorry, it just slipped out, but she is over the moon. You should have seen her face, Cam. You’ve done her so proud by even being asked to compete. She was bursting with pride.’
‘You had no right to tell her. This is my decision.’
‘Why?’ Molly threw up her hands. ‘Give me a good reason why you don’t want to compete and I’ll shut up about it. It could open so many new opportunities for you – for us – and the prize money would come in extremely handy. Think of the future.’
‘I am thinking of the future.’
Molly was just not understanding. ‘How? Please talk to me, help me understand. Bree could help you; she could share this recipe with you.’
‘Now you are making it sound like I’m incapable of baking and need a child’s help.’ Cam’s voice rose slightly.
‘You know that’s not what I’m saying.’
‘It doesn’t matter. This year’s competition has just come at the wrong time.’
‘You’re making excuses and I don’t understand why. This will be brilliant. We can all have a day trip to Edinburgh – I can picture how grand it will look this time of year, surrounded by Christmas trees, at Crossley Hall Manor. We could take George, I’m sure he’d love a day off school, and Dixie would come too—’
‘No, Molly,’ interrupted Cam. ‘The answer is no.’
