Sophie taps her cheeks as she thinks. ‘Cupcakes? Yes, they were scattered around looking messy so I tidied them all onto one plate and added a vintage lace doily. They’re over there on the table ready to take out.’
I bolt across to where she’s pointing, counting madly. ‘Jeez, that’s okay. There are still six, so they’re all here.’ Sophie and her tidying. Given how edgy she is, it could have been worse. We’re probably lucky she didn’t try to fold them up and put them in the drawer. As disasters go, I’d say mislaying an engagement ring before a proposal ranks a long way above Pavlova-in-the-lapandsorbet-up-the-walls.
Sophie’s looking alarmed. ‘Is there a problem?’
‘Nell’s hidden an engagement ring in one of them.’ I’m staring at six identical cakes, on a circular plate, all with red velvet buttercream swirls topped with a blackberry, desperately looking for any imperfections that would show where Nell’s been excavating. ‘We’re just not surewhichone.’
Nell’s sighing at my elbow. ‘I’m buggered if I can tell. I was so careful I’ve even fooled myself.’
Sophie’s gone pale under her foundation. ‘Shit. She can’t eat six cakes to find the ring. Me and my tidying, I’ve totally messed this up, haven’t I?’
I’m running through the options rejecting them as fast as I think of them. ‘Demolish all the cupcakes, make some more icing, find another cake …’
Nell punches the air. ‘I’ve got it.’ As she dashes through to the next room we’re right behind her. ‘Charlie, a random question here, do you happen to have a metal detector?’
Charlie’s standing, legs apart, swinging a dangling Levi backwards and forwards. ‘Sure, although we’re doing the leopard in a tree hold here and I think Levi’s close to dropping off. You might have to help yourselves. It’s the high cupboard after the dining room, on the way to the bedrooms. The doors are all open.’
Sophie grabs the cupcakes and as we belt across the landing after Nell she’s giving me that hard stare of hers. ‘Maybe we need to have a rethink on Charlie. Anyone who’s great with babiesandgenerous with their hand tools can’t be all bad, can they?’
I can’t help thinking what a convenient time it is for Sophie to get to this conclusion. Of all the outcomes, I’d never have predicted this one. But there’s no denying, it looks like Operation Siren has ended abruptly and in success.
27
In Clemmie’s flat
Shag piles and fireworks
The same Tuesday evening
By the time we reach Charlie’s hall, Nell’s got the cupboard door open, and she’s standing knee deep in a pile of wetsuits and surfboards waving a massive metal detector.
The beam on her face couldn’t be any bigger. ‘Trust Charlie to have a Bounty Hunter Gold Digger.It’s a great bit of kit, it should do the job nicely.’ On the one hand, it’s unlucky that we’re having to use one at all, but there again it’s damned useful that Nell couldn’t be any more at home than when she’s got one of these toys attached to end of her arm.
I try not to look beyond her to where the bedroom door is wide open. Although a pale grey quilt with natural throws and a contemporary dark wood bed frame is no surprise given the rest of the apartment. As for the glimpse of free standing tub, I refuse to think of anyone anywhere near that other than Dainty Dusters cleaners.
As I spread the cupcakes out in a line along the floor and stare up at the ring of the Bounty Hunter I’m suddenly feeling over-protective. ‘Okay, sopleasetry not to squish the icing, andfor chrissakesdon’t knock the blackberries off. Charlie might be happy to lend us his tools, but he definitely won’t want bramble juice all over his lovely white rug.’
Sophie’s on her knees, scrutinising the carpet weave. ‘How amazing is this? Un-dyed shearling, hand-woven by empowered artisans, I could do with this on my mood board.’ For one day, only I wish she’d forget her bloody swatches and concentrate.
As Nell passes the metal detector over the third cupcake in the line there’s a double beep. ‘There’ you go, that’s our baby.’
I grin over my shoulder at Sophie. ‘Result! Right, you hang on tight to that one, let’s go.’ We run the length of Charlie’s living room and back across the hall.
As we burst back into mine Milla’s at the door with a finger on her lips. ‘Shhh, Levi’s just dropping off.’
Charlie’s stretched out across the corner of the sofa, Levi cradled against his arm, Diesel asleep on his feet. When I take in the softness of his lashes, and the shadows on his face as he gazes down at the sleeping child on his body I’m completely unprepared for the kick in the pit of my stomach and the lump in my throat. That’s the trouble with getting to know too much of a guy’s back story – they end up messing up your insides.
I hurry back to the kitchen. ‘Right, let’s get candles in the cupcakes on the big plate, put the special cupcake on a pink plate for Rachel and another on a blue plate for Ben.’ By the time I’ve lit the candles, Nell’s back.
She grabs the champagne bucket and two gold rimmed vintage flutes. ‘And finally … everyone ready? Let’s hope this works. Ben wants us all to go out there when he goes down on one knee, then we’ll all join in a toast. And Plum’s the official photographer.’
By the time we parade out onto the balcony, the stars are pricking through an inky sky and Rachel’s pulled a soft cardigan over her floaty cotton dress. Beyond the darkness of the beach the moonlight is catching the lines of the breakers as they suck in and out along the ripples of the water’s edge. By the table the fairy light strings are swinging as the wind catches them and the table is pooled in light from the mason jar candles.
As I put down the plates, I’m smiling at Rachel, and looking over the top of her head at Nell. ‘I hope it’s not too dark.’ The cupcake candles are spluttering as the breeze catches the flames. ‘Happy anniversary.’
Nell pops the champagne cork, fills their flutes, and slides a fork next to each plate. ‘Cheers, and congratulations to you both.’
As we ease backwards to the shelter of the French windows, Nell raises her eyebrows at me. ‘Light the blue touch paper …’
