Clemmie took a deep breath and stepped forward, her nerves jangling like a set of wind chimes in a storm. The crowd parted slightly as she made her way towards the cameras, their curious gazes following her every step.
The reporter turned to face her, her polished smile bright and welcoming.
‘This is contestant Clemmie Rose,’ announced Oliver, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. ‘Puffin Island is her home.’
The reporter extended her hand in greeting but didn’t give Clemmie much time to react before shifting into professional mode. She counted down briskly, ‘One… two…’ and then turned her attention to the camera.
‘We are live from Puffin Island,’ she began, her tone vibrant and engaging, ‘where the Royal Yacht has just docked, ahead of the filming of the annual Royal Baking Competition, a beloved tradition begun by the Royal Family many decades ago.’
The camera panned briefly to capture the yacht in all its glory, the sunlight glinting off its polished wood and gleamingbrass fixtures. The reporter continued, ‘This magnificent vessel will serve as the ultimate stage for ten incredibly talented bakers, each of whom will have the chance to showcase their skills in the royal kitchen.’
Clemmie swallowed hard as the microphone was thrust towards her, the reporter’s smile encouraging yet firm.
‘We’re here with Clemmie Rose, one of the ten talented bakers nominated to compete in this year’s competition,’ she said, her voice smooth and professional. ‘Clemmie, how does it feel to know you’ll be baking on the Royal Yacht?’
Clemmie glanced towards it, its grandeur almost surreal, and found her voice. ‘It’s… it’s an incredible opportunity,’ she said, her words shaky at first but gaining strength. ‘It’s… humbling. But this competition is more than just a chance to bake. It’s a way to honour tradition and push ourselves to recreate something extraordinary from our heritage.’
‘The recipe you have chosen, are you able to tell us anything about it?’
‘All I’m going to share at the moment is it’s a recipe that was created by my great-great-grandmother and is a firm favourite at our café on the coast.’
The reporter’s smile widened. ‘And what are you most excited about as you prepare for the competition?’
Clemmie paused, choosing her words carefully. ‘To honour my family’s baking heritage alongside such a talented group of bakers. I can’t wait to see what we all create.’
The crowd that had gathered broke into a round of supportive cheers and Clemmie could see her friends were practically jumping up and down, clapping enthusiastically from their spot on the beach.
‘Thank you for talking to us today,’ the reporter said, giving her a nod of approval. ‘Best of luck to you in the competition!’
As the interview ended, Oliver gave her hand a squeeze. ‘That was perfect,’ he said. ‘You’re a natural on TV, which bodes well, given it’s a televised competition.’
Clemmie glanced back at her friends, who were grinning and waving like proud parents. She couldn’t help but smile. The Royal Yacht, the competition, the chance to bake in the kitchen of her dreams… it was all happening and she was determined to make the most of every single moment.
‘You were brilliant,’ exclaimed Betty as Clemmie rejoined them.
‘I bet Fiona is kicking herself for falling into the water. That could have been her talking to the press instead,’ said Verity.
Dilly held out her phone. ‘Instead she’s all over the socials for the wrong reason. Someone uploaded the video of her cupcakes being stolen by the seagull, followed by her unexpected swim in the sea.’ The caption read: ‘From cupcakes to cup-flops, when baking dreams take a dive!’
They all watched the video. ‘I’m beginning to feel a little bit sorry for her,’ said Betty, though her wicked grin said otherwise.
‘You do not, Granny!’ replied Clemmie.
‘Hopefully you have more finesse than Fiona. Her balancing skills certainly need some work!’ She gestured towards the sea, where Fiona had just been floundering.
Everyone laughed.
Clemmie turned her attention back to the Royal Yacht, her thoughts on the prize ahead of her, and the challenge that lay in her hands.
Chapter Seven
The few days leading up to the baking competition felt electric as Puffin Island found itself thrust into the spotlight of a royal event that had captivated the nation. The buzz of excitement was real in every corner of Puffin Island as preparations for The Royal Baking Competition moved into full swing. The island, usually tranquil and serene, had been transformed. The quaint streets were adorned with banners and flags in royal colours, and signs with Clemmie’s face and the wordsGo Clemmie!were proudly displayed in shop windows, the local businesses eager to support their homegrown baker.
Despite the prestige of the event, it felt personal to the islanders, who saw Clemmie as one of their own, someone who had spent years perfecting her craft and had finally made it to the grand stage. The entire community had rallied behind her, eager to show the world the warmth, charm and talent that Puffin Island had to offer. The local newspaper had dedicated entire sections to her journey, profiling her as the pride of the island.
The past week had been a blur of chocolate, butter and sugar whilst Clemmie spent time perfecting the torte recipe.
The layers had to be light, yet sturdy. The ganache needed to be velvety smooth and with a slight bitterness to balance the richness of the cake. The clementines added extra oomph and the gold leaf was the final flourish, a touch of elegance that would make the cake look as regal as it tasted.
