There always has to be. ‘And?’
‘Walter’s son asked me to upload the films of him to YouTube. Do you have a problem with that?’
Walter? It’s the middle of the night and he’s talking about Walter?‘Why are you askingnow?’
‘I haven’t seen you. I never know how much time Walter’s got.’ He stops and takes a breath. ‘They’re clips from the care home, but you’re in them and I don’t want to overstep.’
‘Thanks for checking.’ They’ll only be a few minutes each. And there’s not much of my career left for them to ruin now anyway.
‘It’s my fault for filming a celebrity.’ He gives a shrug. ‘But we’d very much appreciate you giving your permission. So I’ll leave you to get your drink if you’re sure I can’t help?’
‘I totally am. And “yes” to the films.’ At this time of night it’s ‘yes’ to everything. Well, almost everything. Obviously not tray service to my room.
‘Great. If you’re sure, I’ll get straight onto it in the morning.’ He’s releasing my shoulders. Easing me to my balance point. Backing off. Flattening himself against the wall so I can pass.
Even then it’s still the kind of squeeze that has my head spinning all over again when I get to the kitchen, and it’s nothing to do with the fizz.
All I can think as I splash Perrier into the glass and I get the satisfying sting as it hits the back of my throat – it could have been worse. If I’d crashed into him going the other way I’d definitely have poured water over both of us.
Ross’s voice echoes from the corridor. ‘And I’ll tag you in as Cressy Cupcake, shall I?’
‘Why not? Knock yourself out.’ Right now I give no shits; all I want to do is get back to sleep. Then my sensible self wakes up and intervenes. ‘Or you could send them over to me to put up. You might get more views that way.’ And at least that lets me stay in control with the content.
As for the thought of being rammed against Ross’s wet chest, in a soaking, skimpy pyjama top with no bra if I had collided with him – that’s so wrong it keeps me awake pretty much until it’s time to get up.
15
At Kittiwake Court
Teenage kicks and casual help
Tuesday afternoon
‘Okay, let’s check what colour icing everyone wants, and then I’ll put the colouring in.’
It’s Tuesday again. This morning Clemmie and I had a very useful brainstorming session and firmed up chapter headings for my spec-bakes. And now I’ve got a group gathered around the table in Sea View Lounge having a hands-on residents-only cooking session. Everyone had a go at rolling out the dough and cutting biscuit shapes of their choice and we’ve been chatting while they’ve been in the oven. And – surprise, surprise! – now I’m standing in front of a catering-size mixing bowl making icing.
As I lift my wooden spoon the smooth white liquid falls back to make ripples in the shiny surface below and I check around the table. ‘So I’m doing green for your rabbits, Walter; Ian and Roger are going for multi-coloured zig-zags; Joanie’s flowers are having white petals and yellow centres; Madge’s will be pink and orange; Jen’s having her hearts pink; Pam’s pigs will be cornflower blue; and everyone else is happy to mix and match.’
Joanie brushes a smudge of flour off her chest. ‘We’ll have to be careful, these aprons you’ve brought us are much too nice to spill on, Cressy.’
I can’t help laughing. ‘That’s what they’re for, Joanie. Don’t worry, they’re washable.’
Walter gives a chortle. ‘I can’t see why I need a pinny at all when I’m already wearing my overalls.’ Jen’s still not persuaded him out of his farmer’s dungarees and into his real clothes because he insists those are only for special occasions. Even with the promise of licking the icing bowls he was still reluctant to put his apron on, so he’s sitting next to me to be sure I keep my side of the bargain.
Joanie is up at this end of the table too because the biscuits were her special request for today. She pats his arm. ‘I bet it’s the first time you’ve ever worn pinstripe for work, our Walter.’
Madge, who’s sitting round the corner, gives Pam a wink. ‘I’m not sure the pinstripe goes with that flat cap of yours, Walter. We need to ask Cressy to get you a chef’s hat for next time. Or maybe a bowler.’ She eases back in her chair. ‘You’re not the first farm man to wear a pinny though – when the blacksmiths used to come to shoe our carthorses years ago they always wore leather ones.’
I picked up the aprons this morning, paid for them with my bake box money, and gave them to everyone here as my treat. If they hadn’t all been so insistent, I’d never have baked in front of an audience, so this is my way of thanking them for giving me that push.
Helen’s advice on fabric was spot on, with the pink and white stripes which most of the women have opted for looking really fresh, while the charcoal and white stripes are a smart alternative. As for the logo, she insisted on addingCressy Cupcake @ The Little Cornish Kitchenat no extra cost, which is great for Clemmieandme. And as some sticky labels saying the same thing arrived in the post yesterday to put on the bake boxes, I’m feeling temporary, yet official.
Jen smiles as she brings the cooling trays back from the kitchen and arranges them along the centre of the table. ‘So Shrewsbury biscuits have egg in and shortbreads don’t. If I’m wearing a pinny I need to remember that!’
Which reminds me, I may as well talk everyone through the plans now. ‘We’ve agreed to make Roger’s shortbreads next time.’ They were his wife Cynthia’s favourite, and his daughter brought in her recipe specially. ‘And we’ll make Madge’s cookies next week too, and Kathleen’s keen we try her ginger cake, and Ian’s asked for flapjacks.’
Jen’s eyebrows lift. ‘A couple more recipes arrived for you in the office. I’ll give you them before you go.’ When I suggested baking their recipes, not mine, I had no idea we’d have such an enthusiastic response.
