‘So let’s have the lemon, and then we’ll work out how to make blackberry icing.’ There’s a sharp smell of citrus as I stir the grated zest into the sponge mixture. As I fill the cupcake cases and pop them in the oven I’m aware that we’re venturing scarily off-piste here. There’s nothing in Laura’s cards because dark berry buttercream hadn’t happened in the eighties.
Charlie pushes a brown paper bag towards me. ‘Here’s the blackberries. I texted Cressy and she said to heat them gently in a pan with a tiny bit of water, then mash and sieve them and add the juice to the icing. And use extra for the garnish. If you do these, I’ll wash the bowl ready for the buttercream.’ For wash read clean out with a spoon first. I suppose I should be grateful he doesn’t put his whole head in there and lick it like Diesel would.
As I stand at the cooker stirring and the warmth spreads through the fruit, the kitchen fills with a rich Ribena scent. A hotline to Cressida Cupcake is beyond awesome even if it is one phone removed from mine. By the time the juice has cooled the buttercream’s ready waiting and the cupcakes are plump and cooked and lined up on the rack. I can’t help noticing, after all the puddings his face is less gaunt than it was although he still has shadows under his cheekbones that make hollows in my stomach when I see them.
‘Okay, here goes.’ I turn on the mixer and begin to drip the juice into the icing, then watch as it swirls from pale pink to a deep purple-red.
Charlie nods his approval. ‘That’s ready for the piping bag. It’s a lush colour, and it tastes amazing, you have to try.’ He dips a teaspoon in and holds it towards my mouth. ‘Remember when we made the rainbow buttercream?’
I slide forward and take the icing from the spoon without thinking. It’s only as the fruity sweetness slides down my throat I remember what the First Dates restaurant programme always says about couples who end up feeding each other. My voice thickens. ‘There was a rainbow in the sky to match. Is it too much to hope we’ll get a crimson sunset tonight?’ That was the first and only time we made cupcakes and it was memorable because I put my size five feet in it big time talking about his wedding disaster. Every time I think about the hurt in his face that day I cringe and kick myself for being so crass. However much it’s okay for him to meddle in my life, at least I know to keep the hell away from his past now.
He clears his throat. ‘You also touched on my wedding that day … the one that didn’t happen …’
As my stomach drops and hits the floor, my face flashes hot then cold. ‘Don’t worry, it absolutelywon’thappeneveragain, I promise.’ I’m not sure if my cheeks are ghostly or crimson. All I know is I want the floor to open up and engulf me.
He winces, then his throat bobs as he swallows. ‘Maybe I wasn’t as upfront as I should have been that day.’ The grate of his voice sends more goosebumps up my spine.
‘Absolutely not a problem, the past is the past. Why not have another taste of icing? It really does taste as good as Brambly Hedge.’ I dive for a spoon, load it up and push it at him across the table but he doesn’t react because he’s staring out across the bay.
He takes a breath. ‘In a way you were right. The bride did call it off a couple of weeks before. But it wasn’t because she’d run off with the best man, it was because she was ill.’
‘Oh, crap. I’m so sorry.’ Any blood left in my face is draining away. I screw up my face as I work out where she is now and get to the worst. ‘She didn’t …?’ I can’t bring myself to say the word die or pass.
Charlie blows. ‘Faye was a marine biologist and she’d picked up a parasite on a working holiday in Africa. She put the wedding off thinking we’d have it when she was well again. But that never happened.’
‘Oh my days.’
Charlie’s voice is low and papery. ‘We had a small ceremony at the hospital in London the day before she died. So, we were married, but for barely twelve hours.’
‘That’s so unbelievably sad.’ I swallow back the sour taste in my mouth. Even now, there’s so much pain in his eyes I want to wrap my arms around him tight and never let go.
He lets out a long whistle. ‘It was all my fault. I’d arranged the holiday for her as a pre-wedding surprise, I insisted she went. If only I hadn’t.’ His face is so dark with shadows it’s obvious.
Oh, shit. ‘You blame yourself?’
His voice is trembling. ‘There isn’t anyone else responsible. I chose it, I encouraged her to go, bought her tickets. It was meant to help with her research. But her losing her life is all down to me.’
He couldn’t look any more haunted. Lately he’s been smiling more, but they’ve dropped away and his eyes are brimming with the same empty sadness I saw that first day down at the harbour.
He clears his throat. ‘Faye worked in Scandinavia a lot, I was mainly in London. People shy away from grief, they don’t know how to respond. When Diesel and I eventually came down here afterwards, it was easier to keep it private. Not to tell anyone.’
‘You already had Diesel?’
‘I bought Faye the holiday, she bought me Diesel as a puppy, to make up for her being away so much with her work. He spent his first few weeks with us lying on her feet at the hospital.’
He still sounds so desolate and my heart is aching for him. ‘So what did you do, how did you even start to cope when it happened?’ Even though I haven’t ever had anyone I’ve been that close to, I can’t imagine how you’d begin to handle losing the person you’re about to share your life with.
The tautness of his face relaxes slightly even though his voice is still a low monotone. ‘That was when I taught Cressy how to cook. She was back from uni and somehow my mum’s determination to teach her kids kitchen skills had waned with each successive child, so Cressy knew zilch. I was completely numb. I went back home because it was warm and full of sisters and I didn’t know what else to do. And every afternoon when Cressy came back from her holiday job we baked together. She was really reluctant, and not very interested. But somehow me teaching her everything I could bake became my temporary mission in life. Our evenings baking together were like therapy. That and taking Diesel for walks. By the time Cressy knew more than me, I was less wrecked and ready to pick up my life again.’
‘So it’s one of those instances where there’s a tragedy yet something good comes out of it.’ I’m scraping the tears off my eyelashes, and mopping my nose on kitchen roll. ‘Cressy’s YouTube clips have got literally millions of views, and all that began with you. You must be really proud.’ I give him a punch on the arm, then go back to my dripping nose.
He always looks at his happiest when he talks about Cressy and there’s the hint of a smile creeping in now. ‘Cressy’s great, but I was only a tiny part at the start for her, the rest is down to her own drive and talent. She grabbed every opportunity and magnified it.’ He hands me a blackberry and takes one himself. ‘It’s funny. Baking with you here has been like doing it all over again. I’m sorry if I’ve come over as dogmatic at times. It’s just that helping you was almost like going back in time. Making the same things, nine years later, doing it all over again a second time around has been very therapeutic.’
I’m hoping it’s helped. ‘Dogmatic? Isn’t that Diesel’s territory?’ Maybe this is him explaining how driven he’s been wanting to help me cook. ‘However much you’ve bossed me about, in the end I’m pleased about it too.’
He’s laughing at that. ‘You should be very proud of how much you’ve learned from someone who’s a bit of a fraud. Soon after Cressy knew more than me, there was a big life insurance payout, and I ended up with Faye’s inheritance too. Overnight I became cash rich completely by default. So, Diesel and I came down here and used that for a new start.’
I’m thinking about what Sophie always said. ‘So you are loaded but not because of all your fabulous property deals?’ For once I miss out the implication they could be dodgy or exploitative.
