Let’s just say, I’m really pleased I opted for media studies, because I have no aptitude whatsoever as a sheep rearer.
I’ll give you one guess what suffered. Obviously getting the mini meringues stuck together and stowed in their pretty multicoloured bun-cases and making sure everything got loaded into the car took priority over how I looked. So just for tonight the hair I’ll be flicking back has no resemblance at all to mine, and has a lot more to do with getting shoved through a proverbial hedge backwards. Except in this case the hedge was actually real. It’s a shame because I’d wanted to look my shiniest for this double-sized evening. But by the end the minutes were disappearing so fast that after a two-minute shower and the same for make-up I yanked on my clean jeans and a vest, pulled my blue spotty shirt off the bed on a hanger to put on when we get there, knotted a twisted scarf around my head for a hairband, and ran for the stairs.
All I can do once we pull up outside the low, long-roofed detached cottage is accept things as they are, smile at Bonnie and Marc, the hosts, as they wave us in through the navy-blue painted front door, and be truly grateful to Nell for getting everyone to help carry in the gear and make it feel like fun. Chloe and Gavin are following behind me, their arms piled with cake boxes, and as I pass others in the hall I’m recognising a lot of them from the previous evenings we’ve done.
As I arrive in a kitchen which is large, but very lived in, Plum swoops across and puts a glass into my hand. ‘Here, have this and get your breath back. The guests are a long way ahead, they’ve been here knocking back the fizz for most of the afternoon.’
‘Thanks.’ I swig it back before I remember I don’t usually drink until afterwards, but the effect is instant. As soon as the liquid hits the back of my throat the tension in my neck eases.
Millie’s putting a stack of egg boxes down on the table, and Sophie follows with the mixer. She leans across to my ear. ‘You don’t mind if Millie films again? The clip from Tuesday has had so much reaction, she’s desperate to have another go.’
I laugh. ‘It’s a shame we won’t have Walter and his wisecracks tonight.’
Sophie grins. ‘You were up at his place today, I hear –with Ross?’
I’m not too happy with the emphasis she’s put on that. ‘Only to secure extra hands for this evening.’ I need to make myself clear about this. ‘It’s the first and last time I’ll ever chase sheep around a field.’
Nell chortles as she fills the cake stands. ‘You can’t let one cowpat put you off, Cressy. We’ll make a country girl of you yet.’
That detail didn’t come from me. If I wanted to keep that blunder secret I should have known better than to let Ross take my trainers somewhere as public as the surgery car park to jet-wash them. But there’s no time to worry about that, because the bag of aprons arrives and they’re all sold and being worn by people coming in and out of the French windows to the garden patio before I can say Little Cornish Kitchen.
Then just as I’m ready to begin Nell presses another glass of fizz into my hand at the same moment Ross delivers the mixing bowl I’d asked him to get, and I’m so relaxed the second glass goes down as fast as the first. Then some guests pull up stools and chairs around the table, others perch on the work surfaces, and before I know it I’m saying the bit about filling the world with love and meringues and I’m off. Talking about the different ways of separating eggs, showing them my preferred way, cradling the yolk in the half shell, and within minutes I’m standing back watching the mixer beating up the egg whites, talking as I wait.
‘Meringues are fabulously simple to shop for, all you need are egg whites and sugar.’ After being so far out of my comfort zone earlier, it’s great to be back where I know what I’m doing. And having a teensy trick up my sleeve to get my own back on Ross for all this afternoon’s teasing makes it all the sweeter.
Except this isn’t going as it should. Pavlova was my party piece once I’d learned to cook, I’ve made meringue mixture so many times I can literally do it with my eyes closed. And I’ve timed myself making enough batches this week to know the mixture should be a lot stiffer than it is by this stage. I always intend to get to troubleshooting questions at the end and never have, but tonight I’ll be talking about what can go wrong at the start – because it has!
I clear my throat. ‘These egg whites aren’t thickening as they should, so I’m going to call in my regular side-kick and funny guy, Ross, to find out why that might be.’ This is nothing to do with the joke I’d planned at his expense. This is totally unscheduled. As I turn to catch Ross’s eye I’m winging it.
From the way he jumps forward, he’s definitely a thwarted performer. ‘Have you heard the one about the spider and the cheese mountain?’
I give a cough. ‘Skipping the jokes for now, did you do anything to the mixing bowl before you gave it to me?’ I’d cleaned them all with vinegar and dried them meticulously before we set out to avoid this exact situation.
He grins and winks at the audience. ‘I gave it a quick rinse on the way in just to be doubly sure it was spotless.’ His face falls as he hears me curse under my breath.
‘How well did you dry it?’ I watch his eyes widen. ‘Because if there’s even a tiny bit of water or dirt in the bowl, the egg white won’t whisk.’
‘Damn. Sorry. That’s your answer – I barely dried it at all.’
Gavin’s calling from the far end of the table. ‘It’s the naughty corner for you, Ross.’
‘Make sure you stay there a full ten minutes, Ross.’ I’m smiling from sheer relief that it’s nothing more complicated as I reach for the eggs. ‘If you could bring me another mixing bowl while I clean the beaters, we’ll start again. And I’ll keep this one here so you can all see the comparison when the next batch does go right.’
Ross is back in a second with the next bowl and a piece of kitchen towel. ‘There you go!’ He cracks two wooden spatulas together and winks at Millie. ‘If everyone’s ready we’ll move to Take Two!’
This time the egg whites fly into the bowl, and moments later I’m back on track. ‘They’re already turning white and fluffy. Be careful not to over-mix, stop when the mixture rises to peaks. Then Ross is going to help me show you the best way to tell they’re ready.’
I take a step back from the table and smile at Ross, knowing he’ll have no idea what’s going on here. ‘Okay, Ross, pick up the bowl, please.’
‘All done.’ He picks it up and does a little flourish for the audience to see how it looks.
I smile at him. ‘Now tip it upside down over my head.’
His eyebrows shoot up. ‘Youarejoking?’
I’m so enjoying this. ‘I’m absolutely not. You’ll have to trust me on this one. Perfectly mixed meringue mixture will cling to the bowl when it’s turned upside down and will never fall out.’ It’s one of my signature moves on my videos and I always love doing it.
His voice rises in disbelief. ‘Surely not? I mean…’
