As I flipped back around, it was instantly clear that all trace of jollity had vanished.
‘What?’
Face sombre, Pip stepped back to let me see into the huge, old fridge.
‘Oh, no.’
It was clear why Aster had been so adamant about her storage instructions. I had to bend down to look properly at the cake, both tiers now crammed side by side on the bottomshelf, right above the vegetable rack. The soft icing around the sides had started sagging, the waves blurring together into a squishy mess. Several of the sunflowers looked as though they were wilting, and the male siskin’s beak and eyes had slumped into the melting mass, while the female’s head had slipped off entirely.
‘Help me move it.’
We shooed the dogs into another room to prevent their inquisitive noses from causing an accident, then, while being careful not to cause any more damage, we slid each tier out and returned them to the middle shelf – that was, after removing a tray of unbaked pasties that I’d left in the freezer as backup in case I dropped or otherwise spoiled another lot.
We wacked the temperature down a couple of degrees and shut the door.
‘It is fixable?’ Pip asked after a distressed silence.
‘We could remove the worst of the flowers, try sticking the head back on the siskin bride. But the waves are ruined. The best option is probably to smooth them all out.’
‘How long will it take you?’
I looked at him, stricken. ‘I bake pastry, not cakes. We’d have to ask Aster to do it.’
Pip fired off a message to one of his sisters, shaking his head grimly when a reply pinged through a minute later. ‘She’s gone to sleep off the champagne before the band start up again. But asked if we’d take a photo of the cake once it’s assembled.’
I shouldn’t have been surprised when Rosemary appeared, just as we were working out where to position the bird’s beak.
‘Pip, what are you doing skulking about in here? This is your sister’s wedding,’ she scolded as we spun around, hiding the cake behind our backs. ‘Did you even eat one of the pasties you’ve been going on about for two years? Everyone’s wondering where you are.’
‘By everyone, do you mean Celine?’ Pip asked, grimacing.
‘She was one of them, yes.’
‘Then there’s your answer,’ he shot back. ‘Her refusal to accept that I’m not interested in rekindling anything between us is hard enough under normal circumstances. Wedding Celine –Chief BridesmaidCeline – is too much. I’d rather deal with the cows on heat. Besides, Emmie needed some help.’
‘Hmph. I thought that was why we were paying those students from Port Cathan: to help Emmie.’
‘Yeah. This was something else.’
‘Oh?’ She lowered her eyebrows. ‘Emmie was supposed to call me if anything came up. Is everything under control, Emmie, as you assured me it would be?’
Pip and I exchanged a glance, and in silent agreement, moved apart so that Rosemary could see the cake on the worktop behind us. She immediately bustled over.
‘What is this? What did you do?’ she squawked, hands flapping over the top tier.
‘Someone moved it to the bottom of the fridge,’ I said, apologetically. ‘We found it like this.’
‘Why would they do that?’ Rosemary was nearly shrieking.
‘I have no idea. There was no reason for anybody to be in the kitchen.’
‘Except you. Why weren’tyouin the kitchen?’
‘You told me the wrong time for the pasties. I was trying to sort it out with Lily.’
‘Oh, so it’smyfault that you left the kitchen unattended, putting the cake at risk?’
‘At risk of what?’ Pip interjected. ‘Someone sneaking in and moving it to a different shelf on the fridge? As you said, why on earth would they do that?’
