I swallow hard, and smile back at Miles. ‘The picnic has been amazing, thank you for bringing me.’
His eyes narrow. ‘We’re not finished yet. Are you ready to move to the sweets?’
I take a deep breath. ‘Before we do, there’s one more thing to clear up. Now you’ve got your own way with shops, can I take it that I get mine with the baking team?’
Miles looks at me like I’m bananas. ‘You know the landlord of the Yellow Canary has a top-flight Range Rover entirely funded by the over-sixties?’
‘What’s that got to do with anything?’
Miles winces. ‘My mum and her friends aren’t as sweet as you think. Those market trips are where they nurse their hangovers because they drink for England, and party for the world. But if you’re up for a wild night tomorrow, we’ll certainly have that try-out, and let you see for yourself why it can’t possibly work.’
‘Great.’
He pulls a face. ‘I just hope you know what you’re letting yourself in for.’
I laugh. ‘Bring it on.’
Obviously I’m bluffing.
43
Boathouse Cottage, St Aidan
Scaling up and winding down
Saturday evening
If someone had told me seven weeks ago that I’d be hosting an evening for twelve in Scarlett’s kitchen, I wouldn’t have believed them either, but it’s all because I’m proving my point with Miles. When we’re fighting, I take risks that I’d never have dreamed of doing otherwise. Worst of all, what happens with tonight’s baking evening proves Miles right before we even begin. I’m thinking of a quiet night in for six, and within seconds of me mentioning it to his mum and her friends it’s doubled in size. I’ve never seen a clearer sign of impending disaster.
It began with Miles’s mum who added in Harry, then grew to include Martin and Carol too. Then Malcolm, and Edie’s Aunty Jo jumped in, and Angela and Barry. Once it was obvious it was getting party-sized, Zofia wouldn’t think of staying away and brought Aleksy too. I only managed a size limit because of the seating plan. If the island had been bigger, we’d have had every pensioner in town.
Once I’d committed, there was no point panicking. I took inspiration from last night’s dining out and threw together some platters of colourful chopped vegetables and dips to nibble in the gaps between rolling sessions. Miles made bite-sized versions of his savoury croissant curls when he’d finished his massive Saturday shop bake, and everyone came with the promise of a box of boathouse buns they’d baked, to take away.
Miles maintains one of the major problems is what he refers to as his mum’s friends’ ‘hollow legs’, so he called in Huntley and Handsome wine merchants. When I saw the delivery more than filled one of the mud room fridges with beers and bottles of pink fizz I was glad Miles was the one covering the bill.
There was so little time between closing the shop and the guests arriving, I only had a second to slip on a new frock or two before we were popping the corks and handing out the Betsy & Milo aprons along with the drinks. Zofia threw herself into organising an over-sixties playlist and I can already hear Ed Sheeran singing about kissing under the light of a thousand stars.
Miles managed a dash to Falmouth to stock up on rolling pins, knives and extra baking trays, and while the more reluctant pastry chefs like Aleksy hover at the end of the island, the rest of us spread out around the remaining three sides.
Jackie has taken the place next to Miles and she pulls him into a hug. ‘When your curly croissants take off big time, Boathouse Cottage cookery courses would be a great natural next step.’
I’m starting to see where Miles gets his drive from.
Carol waves her glass. ‘If the fizz is always this good, you can count us in for those too!’
Zofia pulls her apron ties tight and brushes an invisible spec off the knee of her white jeans. ‘Once Betsy & Milo takes off these two will be moving so fast, they will just be a blur.’
As it’s my fault they’re all here tonight, however shy I feel I owe it to them all to do a little welcome speech. As they finally put their glasses down for long enough to climb up onto their stools, I give a little cough.
‘Welcome to Boathouse Cottage everyone. I need to start with a big thank you to my sister Scarlett and her husband for letting us use their kitchen and for having the forethought to buy enough stools to seat us all when the place was really designed for two.’
Had I known this evening was going to getthisout of hand, I’d never have brought them here, so this is my way of apologising to Scarlett in advance.
Miles laughs. ‘We all know Tate and Scarlett by reputation if not in person, they always think big.’
I overcome the twang in my chest when I think that they might never be here together again, and smile round at everyone. ‘I’m also truly grateful to you all for missing the Over Sixties Gardening Group and coming here instead.’
I take another deep breath. ‘As I mentioned to you when I asked you all here yesterday evening, Miles and I are hoping to open three more “pop up” shops very soon, which means we’ll need a lot more boathouse buns than Miles can make on his own. As we’re trying to keep everything local and fresh, my idea is to recruit a team of bakers to help us with supplies over the summer. The search is on to find versatile people with energy, knowledge and life experience, who may have a few hours to spare in the mornings a couple of days a week– so we naturally thought of you.’
