‘I have eggs,’ said Solange indicating the basket on her arm.
‘You do,’ said Hattie. ‘That’s a lot of eggs.’
‘I thought we could start some preparation for one of the weddings. There are lots of things we can make in advance for canapés. Choux buns. Macarons. Pastry cases.’ Solange plonked the basket down and rolled up her sleeves.
‘I’ll leave you two to it. I’m going to look at some timings and make some plans. Remind me what time Yvette’s service is at theMairie.’
‘She’s getting married at ten o’clock. Then thevin d’honneurand the restaurant is booked for twelve-thirty.’
‘So people will be here between ten forty-five and twelve-fifteen.’ Hattie scribbled down the times in her notebook.
‘Oui.’ Solange nodded.
‘Excellent. Leave it with me.’ Taking a cup of coffee with her, Hattie strode off to her makeshift office in the library feeling more confident than she had in weeks. She knew exactly what she needed to do. Phone the celebrant, Juliet Garnier, the florist and Gabby, again.
ChapterTwenty-Three
When Hattie walked back into the kitchen several hours later, it was like walking into a rainbow factory. An explosion of colour lined the whole of one counter, which was filled with cooling racks of different coloured macarons from the palest blue to almost midnight, along with sunshine yellow, orange and russet through to baby pink and shocking fuchsia. Piled up by the sink were the bowls that had been used to mix the food colourings to achieve the huge variety of shades.
‘Someone’s been busy,’ she said. ‘These look gorgeous. Where’s Solange?’
‘She’s taking down curtains in some of the bedrooms to be dry cleaned. She’s really got the bit between her teeth and, my goodness, the woman can cook. Taste one of these babies. I made these ones and she made the ones over there.’ Fliss pointed to another cooling rack full of cream and chocolate macarons. ‘She’s got such a delicate touch with flavour.’
Hattie took the proffered pale pink macaron and bit into the soft sugary texture. A burst of raspberry hit her tastebuds, followed by the nuttiness of the pistachio cream sandwich in the middle. ‘Oh my. That is divine.’
‘She’s a genius.’
‘Afternoon.’ Alphonse walked into the kitchen bearing a thermos mug of coffee. ‘Have you seen Luc?’
‘He’s gone into Hautvillers,’ said Hattie. ‘He said he’d be back by four.’
Alphonse was already examining the nearest macarons. ‘These look good. Did you make them?’
‘Don’t sound so surprised,’ snapped Fliss. ‘And don’t let your filthy hands near them.’
Alphonse shrugged and then deliberately poked one. ‘Oops.’ He sent her a challenging smirk. ‘I’d better eat that one.’ And before she could protest he’d picked it up and popped it into his mouth, crunching it happily.
Fliss’s mouth opened in outrage and she marched over and pushed him away. ‘Leave them alone. Those are for your sister’s wedding.’
‘Not all of them surely.’ Deliberately he snaked a hand out and grabbed another one, popping it into his mouth.
‘Arrête!’she spat, following it up with a stream of French, and Hattie was pretty sure she heard the wordcochonas Fliss put herself between him and the macarons, glaring belligerently at him.
‘Mmm,’ he said right into her face. ‘They’re really quite good.’
‘Quite good.’ Fliss put her hands on her hips. ‘They’re excellent, which you would know if you knew anything about food. Now out of my kitchen.’
He gave her a defiant grin and ambled out of the room, giving Hattie a wink behind Fliss’s back. She had a feeling he enjoyed winding Fliss up – they were total opposites.
‘God, he drives me mad,’ said Fliss. ‘Wandering in, in his dirty overalls, as if he owns the place, always commenting on my cooking. Who the hell does he think he is?’
‘He does work here…’
‘In the vineyard, which is where he should stay and not under my feet,’ snapped Fliss. ‘I need to go and have a shower. I’ve been cooking all morning. Yvette is coming to dinner in a couple of days’ time; her mother has told her she has news about the wedding. Let’s hope we can placate her.’
‘Don’t you think we should tell her before?’ suggested Hattie.
Fliss gave an evil grin. ‘No, she’s given Solange a hard time, I think she should suffer a little longer.’
