‘I don’t know. You tell me why someone would want to destroy Iris and Hugh’s wedding cake.’
‘I have no idea.’ Pip took hold of his mother’s hand, trying to calm her down. ‘Who apart from family even knows about the dodgy bottom of the fridge?’
‘No one! That’s my whole point. Is it more plausible that someone deliberately crept into my kitchen and spoiled your mammaw’s wedding cake, or that someone – Emmie – forgot about the fridge and moved the cake so that she could, I don’t know, fit something else in?’
‘No.’ I shook my head.
Rosemary looked at me for a long moment, taking a deep breath as her initial consternation readjusted into a semblance of sympathy.
‘You have been very busy. I’m sure it was an easy mistake to make in all the confusion and clamour. We shouldn’t have left you alone to manage everything, given how different things are here compared to what you’re used to.’
‘No.’ I tried to keep calm, but it was difficult due to the adrenaline stampeding through my arteries. From the moment I’d seen the cake, the possibility that this had been deliberate had been cramping in my guts. ‘This is my business. I’ve baked and served pasties non-stop for over ten years, in a far more demanding environment than this. There was no confusion or clamour. And I didn’t open the fridge once. I had no reason to. Let alone move the cake. I would never have dared try by myself.’
‘I’m sorry, Emmie, but lying about it isn’t going to make things better,’ Rosemary bristled. ‘We can forgive a serious mistake like this, even if it has wrecked Aster’s painstaking work. After all, it’s only a cake. But not owning up to it is a whole different matter. It’s… shameful. We don’t do things like that here.’
‘Ma—’ Pip protested, but Rosemary cut him off.
‘No, Philip. I’m going to tell Lily, then send someone in to slice that up and serve it in pieces. We’ll have to explain to Irisand Hugh why they can’t cut the cake. And lie to Aster about why there’s no picture of what will probably be the last wedding cake she ever makes.’ She sniffed, striding back to the outside door. ‘As for you, thank you for the pasties, but I think it’s time you left us to celebrate with our family and friends.’
‘No, Ma,’ Pip called, but she’d already gone. Instead, he turned to me. ‘Don’t go yet. At least, not like this. I’ll talk to Lily and make sure no one thinks it was you.’
I must have looked distraught, because he took hold of my hand and clenched it against his chest. ‘Promise me you won’t go. It’ll be easy to work out who moved the cake. Probably one of the waiting staff. Or Violet.’
‘Or Celine,’ I mumbled.
‘Celine? Why would she be in here messing about with the fridge?’
I shrugged, unable to face answering that.
‘Do you really believe me?’ I asked instead, voice trembling. The whole situation was horrendous.
Pip lifted my hand, kissed it gently, then looked me right in the eyes. It made everything about a zillion times better.
‘You learned not to forget things,’ he said, softly. ‘Catering instructions, especially.’
My eyes filled with tears. He’d taken seriously what I’d told him about Mum.
‘Besides, I’ve seen you running the kiosk with a queue snaking halfway down the concourse. People bellowing their orders, everyone frazzled, a semi-riot over the last cinnamon apple custard. Working alone, in our vast kitchen, must have been a piece of cake in comparison.’ He winced, dropping my hand. ‘Okay, terrible analogy for now. But yes. I trust you. With this, and just about anything.’
He turned to go. ‘Lily told me Aster’s lent you a dress. Get changed, take a deep breath, and by the time you’re ready, I’ll have solved the great cake mystery.’
28
For want of anything better to do, I followed Pip’s advice, retrieving the dress from under the stairs and going back to the shower room to change. I could produce nothing more than a hollow sob when, after putting it on, I found one of the delicate mesh sleeves had been ripped away from the seam.
‘I suppose mainlanders don’t know how to put dresses on without tearing them, either,’ I muttered, bitterly.
Sinking onto the closed toilet seat, I dropped my head into my hands and surrendered to the sheer awfulness of my situation.
How on earth had I ended up here?
What was I thinking, freeloading a holiday off a family and then spending the whole week tagging along to things as if pretending to be one of them?
Inserting myself into Pip’s life, despite his deranged ex hating me enough to deliberately sabotage her best friend’s wedding just to make me look bad. Never mind the bird poop or nasty messages.
How did I convince myself that I was the kind of woman who could handle a strange place, with people I didn’t know, noplan whatsoever, and somehow not make a complete mess of it?
After years of bleak loneliness, during the past few days, I’d started to embrace the joy of being a part of something. A way of life where people waded right on into your business, caring meant sharing, and no one questioned that the beating heart of a healthy community was admitting they were better together.
