‘I’ll drink to that!’ said Madeleine, downing her water like it was a shot and slamming the glass down on the table. ‘And I’ll have more little choccy cakes too, if you can add them to my order.’
Clem was impressed with the food they put away in the hour that followed, and as she served their table, she foundout more than she’d expected to. Sebastian kept an amused ear out too.
‘Not only does Hawkins like blondes, he’s a whiz in the kitchen, too gentlemanly for his own good, and he doesn’t kiss and tell, no matter how often they try to catch him out,’ Sebastian told Clem and Kev as they prepped the next batch of catering for South Giddi Giddi.
‘He can’t be that much of a saint if he’s letting them ride around in the freezing cold, drinking their body weight in wine.’ Kev frowned, chopping his way through the enormous leeks Brian Treloar had dropped off that morning.
‘Just a little squiffy,’ Madeleine said, waving off his concerns when she paid the bill. ‘I’ve cycled home from Liverpool boozers in far worse weather, with way more Prosecco under my belt.’
Icy wind gusted into the cafe as they filed out, adding to Clem’s unease.
They’re grown women, they can make their own decisions.
‘I bet there’s plenty that goes on behind the scenes,’ Kev continued. ‘Surprised the cameras aren’t following and filming as they let their hair down. Look at them, a gut full of food hasn’t soaked up all that grog. That short one’s certainly not fit to be on the road.’
Clem looked up from the mushrooms she was dicing. Kyra was the shortest by a head, had been the tipsiest during their lunch, and when she failed not once but twice to throw a leg over her bicycle, Clem knew she had to step in and offer them a lift.
‘I’m headed there anyway,’ Clem insisted when the ladies protested. ‘And Sebastian drives past the winery tour headquarters every morning and night, he’ll drop the bikes and helmets back on his way home. You’ll be soaking wet in ten minutes flat,’ she added, pointing to the heavy grey clouds thudding across the sky.
It was the only responsible option, Clem told herself as she drove out of town. Nothing to do with scoring brownie points with Spencer Hawkins or snatching extra snippets of gossip to share later with Hazel and Mia.
‘You liking the show?’
She directed her question to Emily, the oldest and most sober of the three contestants.
‘It’s not exactly a walk in the park,’ Emily replied. ‘Harder than I expected.’
Emily was also the prettiest contestant, with the type of grace and self-assuredness Clem found annoying. The type that came from growing up in homes with overflowing fridges, fancy school uniforms, endless shopping trips. Being born into families that had professional photos taken every year, more overseas holidays than you could poke a stick at and parents who gave cars as eighteenth birthday gifts.
‘That’s because you’re used to being pursued, not the other way around,’ Madeleine called from the back seat. ‘Life’s tough when men are intimidated by your family’s huge farm!’
‘Maddy!’ Kyra giggled.
‘It doesn’t make life as easy as you’d imagine,’ Emily retorted dryly. ‘But I’ve worked hard, like my parents and my grandparents before them. And Spencer’s different, he’s not after our orchards, like half the blokes I meet. He’s deeper than that.’
‘Deeply fuckable.’ There was a giggle and then a hiccup from the back seat, which led to more raucous laughter.
The sight of another lady in the driveway sparked a flurry of discussion when Clem pulled up at South Giddi Giddi. She’d met Spencer’s sister the weekend before, delivering the first catering order, and the tipsy trio craned their necks trying to get a clearer look.
‘Who’s that? Not more contestants?’ Kyra groaned, peering out the window.
‘That’s Spencer’s sister, you idiot,’ said Emily, rolling her eyes. ‘You need to sober up fast, before the camera crew get a hold of you.’
The contestants made a beeline for the house.
‘Big day?’ Addison asked, her lips twitching as she greeted Clem.
‘What happens on the Rail Trail, stays on the Rail Trail.’ Clem grinned. ‘I was coming this way anyway, and the rain was threatening.’
‘And now your Jeep smells like vino, instead of your divine cooking.’
‘It could have been worse,’ Clem joked, accepting Addison’s offer to help carry the catering boxes inside.
‘I love everything Adelaide has on the gourmet scene, but there’s something about small-batch cooking. Let me guess, this is a much-loved recipe handed down from your grandmother or something like that?’ Addison examined the smallest box in her arms.
‘Yep, these are from my Aunty Jean’s cookbook. The vegan version needs a little tweaking, but the crew gobbled them up yesterday. How were things here today?’
‘I think everyone needed the break,’ Addison admitted. ‘Last night’s family dinner was intense, even worse than trying to bake in front of a video camera while grilling each contestant about her intentions towards my little brother. A few days is enough for me. I don’t know how Louisa and Ian manage it, let alone Spence. What a way to spend his long-service leave.’
