My voice is soaring. ‘I asked George, he told me. You can’t get any more straightforward with the pony than that.’ At least this far I’m managing to keep the Singles’ Club well out of this.
He’s pulling a face. ‘If there was crumble involved, I’d put money on him turning up for that. Throw in some crème anglaise and you’d double your chances.’ He scratches his head as he thinks. ‘Whatever he told you, I’d say it’s in both our interests to get him along.’
I can’t believe he’s being serious. ‘How much mixture in each then?’
He picks up a teaspoon, and drops a dollop into the paper case. ‘Not too full, it’s going to rise remember.’ He narrows his eyes. ‘Although thinking about it, a crumble party at your place might be too intimate for comfort. As George is your boss, it might have to be at mine.’
I can’t quite believe what I’m hearing, but I’m straight onto it. ‘So you’d be there too then?’
He gives me an incredulous stare. ‘You’re not going to ban me from my own party, even if you do look after my cat.’
I keep on spooning, trying not to get too excited that he’s just handed me what Sophie and Plum had ordered. ‘Just checking, that’s all.’
His voice is rising with excitement. ‘Parties are what my flat is made for. I suggest a whole load of puddings, and lots of people to eat them. A hundred say?’ There’s no holding him back. ‘And my mate Rory at Huntley and Handsome wine merchants is doing great deals on Freixenet this month.’
If page three of the Residents Code just went of the window, I’m not about to say. I’m blinking at him. ‘Come again?’
He’s wiggling his eyebrows. ‘Now wecantell you’ve been away. Freixenet is Spanish cava, it’s the new prosecco. I’ll get it if you like.’
This is getting way too complicated for my columns of figures. ‘Actually, Nell picks up my wine supplies in her car. She’s besties with Rory, too.’ More so since we dreamed up the Little Cornish Kitchen and started dishing out huge quantities of alcohol at least three nights a week. As for the complications, they’re huge. But if I deliver Charlie into a social situation, then it’s up to Sophie and Plum where they go from there.
‘You’re the one with all the friends, so it would still be your party rather than mine.’ As he rubs his hands his excitement is about a lot more than being about to get the mixing bowl. ‘You could roll three of your class of ninety-five nights into one, give your friends a blow out, then we’d get two nights off as a bonus.’
Looks like I’ve accidentally got a result here. ‘Laura’s Seconds at Seaspray.’ It’s out before I can stop myself. ‘Giving my parties names is a little thing of mine. Maybe you’d better lick that bowl now?’
The way he takes it from me, you’d think it was years since he had one, not yesterday. ‘Twelve minutes, Gas Mark Seven. And while we’re waiting for them to cook I’ll run you through how to make perfect cupcake buttercream.’
I can’t help smiling. Don’t ask me why. ‘Much more of this, I’ll be turning into Cressida Cupcake.’
He freezes, spoon halfway to his mouth. ‘YouknowCressida Cupcake?’
I feel a bit silly. ‘Not personally. Only on YouTube. People complain that her amounts are all over the place, but I totally love her anyway. She’ssofar ahead of everyone else, I watch her all the time.’
His face splits into the biggest smile. ‘Cressie’s my little sister. Well one of them, anyway.’
I’m flapping my hands in front of my face having a total fan girl moment. ‘Ooo. Shit, did I just say her quantities were crap?’ When I sink down onto a chair because my legs went all wobbly, I can’t help wishing he’d smile like that at me.
He laughs. ‘Don’t worry, she knows that’s a weakness.’
I can’t wait to find out. ‘Does sheactuallyshop at Waitrose? And does she sparkle clean her kitchen every day?’
He’s still laughing and it’s such a good sound. ‘It’s not actually her kitchen on YouTube. Sorry to disillusion you, but she’s not the tidiest person. And she hates cleaning. But she does shop at Waitrose, or at least she does when she’s at our mum’s.’
I punch the air. ‘I knew it.’ It sounds stupid, but I’m desperately trying to hold back from pressing my entire body against his, not for my normal lustful reasons but in the vain hope that some of Cressida’s cooking magic might rub off on me. As the sun comes out and pours into the kitchen, it lights up the Granny Smith green of the dresser, so I concentrate on that instead.
Luckily, Charlie’s missing quite how much I’m swooning here on all fronts. At least he seems to have recovered his colour from earlier. If I’d known that alluding to something that happened years ago was going to make him so furious or so pale, I’d never have gone there.
He gives me a nudge. ‘Wake up, there’s a rainbow over the bay and you’re missing it. How fitting is that?’
I manage to hide how much he made me jump, and decide to skip the joke about how I could do with finding the proverbial pot of gold. As I stare at the luminous band of colour arcing across the slate sky, I just soak in the beauty of the moment. If there’s a pang at the thought I might ever have to let go of this wonderful view of the ocean, I do my best to push it away. Eventually, I drag myself back to what we’re doing. ‘Okay, so spill. How do we make this spectacular icing?’
It’s hard to believe it but he’s still grinning. ‘Easy. Make separate batches of pink, blue and green buttercream, put a dollop of each into the piping bag. Then squeeze.’
‘It’s that simple?’
He laughs. ‘Don’t sound so surprised, it’s cooking not rocket science. And you do know you’re a natural?’
I’m blinking at him because I’ve no idea what he means. ‘Natural eater, definitely.’
