Part One
Chapter One
This was going to be a night to remember, Mina decided as she perched rather precariously on a chair and draped the little piñata fairy lights over the top of the archway from the kitchen into the dining area. They were the perfect finishing touch.
‘Looking good,’ said her sister, Hannah, appearing in the doorway clutching a bulging carrier bag.
‘You’re back.’ Mina jumped down from the chair with a thump, belatedly remembering the neighbours below, and clapped her hands together, excitement getting the better of her. ‘Did you get a bottle? I can’t believe I forgot that. I mean, seriously, a Mexican evening without tequila! Actually, maybe I should have asked you to get two.’
‘One bottle will be fine. Everyone will bring booze and you’ve got a crate of Corona. I don’t think anyone’s going to be thirsty.’
‘You’re a star. What would I do without you?’ She hugged her sister.
‘I think you’d probably manage,’ said Hannah, extricating herself. ‘There’s enough food for everyone to take home and live off for the whole weekend.’
Mina gave her a cheerful grin. ‘It’s going to be great.’ She couldn’t wait to see everyone surrounding the table, the places set with her vintage china collected over the years from charity shops, her guests replete with food and alcohol, chatting in the candlelight. She’d been cooking all day and for most of the previous evening but it was going to be worth it. An anniversary celebration. One whole year with Simon. Quite a record for her, and she had to admit she was enjoying the calm and stability he brought into her life. He was the yin to her yang, or whatever the saying was. Actually it was probably the other way round, not that she had a clue about Chinese philosophy. What she did know was that she’d invited eight friends, including Hannah, for dinner tonight. It would be a tight squeeze but everyone was used to that when they came here. In the last year she’d held a Parisienne party (extremely chic), a Danish hygge gathering (very cosy), a gin cocktail speakeasy night (brilliant 1920s costumes, including Simon’s fabulous Trilby that cost a bomb), and a Thai banquet (spicy, fresh, and utterly delicious).
Tonight’s table with its brightly-striped Mexican serape-style tablecloth was laid with jewel-coloured raffia mats, plastic sombrero napkin rings, and a row of candles in rustic metal votives running down the centre. She’d even bought some cactus-shaped plastic ice cubes for the water jug.
‘Your parties are always great, but you don’t half give yourself a lot of work. I’d have just bought a couple of Old El Paso sauces and some salsa and guacamole from M&S.’
‘That’s not proper Mexican food!’ Mina’s eyes widened in mock outrage. ‘I’m doing authentic street food. Come.’ Mina darted into the kitchen beckoning furiously. ‘You’ve got to try this.’ She was already holding the spoon out.
‘What is it?’ asked Hannah, her eyes narrowed in sudden suspicion.
‘Try it…’
Her sister took a tentative mouthful. ‘Oh wow.’ She blinked rapidly. ‘That’s got a kick. But,’ Hannah went back for a second lick, ‘yum.’
‘Chocolate sauce made with chilli from Ecuador. It’s to have with the churros for dessert. Isn’t it just divine?’ Mina dipped her finger and took a quick taste, her eyes closing in sheer bliss. It was lovely. It had taken her a while to track this particular artisan-made brand down, and it was worth every last penny of the extortionate price she’d paid. Although she’d been equally tempted by the caramel salted dark chocolate from Madagascar and the rum flavour from Trinidad and Tobago. There were just so many gorgeous chocolates to choose from these days.
‘Different. I wish I could cook like you.’
Mina laughed.
‘Then you wouldn’t have your big fancy job and a gorgeous apartment to live in,’ said Mina, looking around at her small cramped kitchen – not that she envied her sister at all, but one day she would like a decent-sized kitchen with an open-plan diner where she could entertain without having to leave her guests every five minutes. She’d even planned the layout in her head.
When she and Simon moved in together they could combine forces and buy a better place, perhaps even a house. Despite their different personalities, both of them loved food and entertaining – it was one of the reasons they worked so well as a couple. ‘What do you want me to do?’ asked Hannah, looking around.
‘If you could grate cheese for me, for the nachos, and make sure it’s the cheddar and not my special Alpine cheese.’
‘What’s that for? Or shouldn’t I ask? Is it a Mexican speciality that no one knows about?’
Mina laughed. ‘No, we’ve been talking about developing a fondue recipe at work, so I thought I’d get some sneaky practice in at home. It really needs the right cheese. Amelie has been emailing me traditional Swiss recipes.’
‘Ah, that’s nice. How is she?’
Amelie was Mina’s godmother, who had been at school with their mother, in a boarding school in France. Poor Hannah had missed out as their parents had not got around to christening her, although Amelie had, in her typically generous fashion, adopted her as an honorary goddaughter and always sent her birthday and Christmas presents.
‘Good. You know she moved out of Basel and bought that little ski lodge place, which does sound gorgeous. She keeps inviting me to go and visit, and I feel a bit bad that I haven’t – but it’s not like hopping on a plane to the city. Where she is now is in the middle of nowhere. It’s a three-hour train journey from Zurich or Geneva.’
‘Not exactly a quick weekend break, then. Now what do you want me to do?’
‘When you’ve grated the cheese, you could help me do the margarita glasses.’
‘What are you doing with them?’
‘I’m going to dip the rims in lime juice and then in salt, to get a proper crust around the edges.’ She waved her hand towards the shaped cocktail glasses that she’d been thrilled to find in TK Maxx. ‘And look: I’m going to sprinkle a little edible golden glitter in the salt to give them a bit of pizazz.’ She was rather pleased with this idea, and even more pleased by Hannah’s enthusiastic reaction.
