The Way to a Woman's Heart (43 page)

‘You’re in love,’ Trixie said softly. ‘That’s all, dear.’

‘Hardly,’ Ella snorted. ‘And, anyway, isn’t love supposed to make you all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and smiling and happily on top of the world, and intensely irritating to other people?’

‘Like Poll and Billy, you mean?’

‘Exactly like Poll and Billy. I’ve no idea why they don’t just come out and announce it – it’s sooo obvious.’

‘They’ll have their reasons, dear. We must let them do whatever they think best. Anyway, Poll and Billy are going to be all right. I’m not so sure about you.’

‘Thanks. No, sorry – again. I’ve really got to stop acting like a droopy schoolgirl and get over it.’

‘And Ash?’

‘What about Ash?’

‘It’s Ash you’re in love with, dear, isn’t it?’

‘No! Well… maybe… anyway, I’m definitely over Ash.’

‘No you’re not, dear.’

‘OK then, I’m not. Well, at least we’re sort of speaking again. I’ve apologised for being rude when we went out, but he still clearly thinks I’m just a silly, moody girl – and anyway, Onyx said…’

‘Yes, dear?’

‘Oh, Onyx kind of warned me that there was no point in hoping that Ash would ever be interested in me in that way. She’s lovely – and she’s Ash’s girlfriend – and I’m pretty sure she’ll be moving in here with him really soon. She just told me not to expect a happy ending.’

‘Oh dear. And what will you do then? When Onyx and Ash are living together here?’

‘Trixie, I have absolutely no idea. But I really love Hideaway and everyone and I really don’t want to leave, even when my three months are up – so I suppose I’ll just have to grin and bear it. But, please, promise me one thing – you’ll never mention any of this to Ash. He has no idea, and I want it to stay that way.’

‘I won’t breathe a word, dear. To be honest, if I thought that by doing so he’d leave Onyx then I might. But –’ she held up a chubby, wrinkled hand ‘– I know that under the circumstances that would do more harm than good, so my lips are sealed.’

‘And you won’t try to get the fairies involved?’

‘Are you mocking again, Ella?’

‘No, I mean it.
You
might not say anything, but then use the “it’s not me it’s the fairies” line.’

‘I won’t, dear. You have my word.’

‘OK, thank you. You told me you’d spent your life loving someone who belonged to someone else, didn’t you? I think, if I stay here, that’s exactly what I’ll be doing too.’

Trixie leaned over and patted Ella’s hand. ‘No you won’t, dear. Forewarned is forearmed. I was silly. I wasted my life on a hopeless dream. I just waited and waited and hoped and hoped. But you
know
. You’ll move on and meet someone else one day, and you’ll forget all about Ash.’

Ella stared up at the cornflower-blue sky, mottled and dappled and dancing through the branches of the heavily scented lilac trees, and knew that she wouldn’t.

Gabby and Tom arrived at six. Again, in separate cars with their retinue in tow. Again, the routine was exactly the same as before.

‘It should be much easier for you all this time,’ Gabby, cool and elegant in pale green, said, picking her way over the cables and round the cameras and flicking skinny fingers over the kitchen surfaces and inspecting them for non-existent grime. ‘You know exactly what to do and what to expect, don’t you?’

They all nodded with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

‘And Tom and I love your new menu. It certainly sounds well up to the standard of your original one. And you’re the luckiest of the Weekly Winners. You’ve had a decent gap between shows – and
if
you win the viewers’ vote this week
to appear in Friday’s final, you’ll at least have a few days to recover. If those emaciated
children
from Newcastle should be chosen, it’ll mean they’re cooking on Thursday
and
Friday. All in the luck of the draw. Eh, Tom?’

Tom, who was staring blankly out of the kitchen window, didn’t answer.

‘TOM!’

‘Er, yes – what? Oh, yes, definitely.’

‘Whatever.’ Gabby gave him a withering look. ‘Right, now you’ve all been to hair and make-up, and are all nicely gussied up, I see – red and blue, this time – very attractive, and I particularly like the red on you.’ Her eyes lingered on Ash. ‘That red T-shirt with those faded blue jeans… Oh, yes… the ladies are going to absolutely love you to bits – again.’

Ash looked, as he’d looked most of the day, only mildly interested and said nothing.

‘He got a lot of fan mail after the last show,’ Tom spoke suddenly. ‘Didn’t he, Gabby?’

Gabby gave Tom a Look. ‘Yes, he did. But we don’t tell them about that until afterwards, do we, Tom?’

‘Er, no.’

‘Really? Fan mail? How thrilling!’ Poll looked very perky. ‘Mind you, I’m not surprised. Did you bring it with you?’

‘No.’ Gabby looked amazed that Poll should even ask such a stupid question. ‘We don’t bother ourselves with that sort of thing. We have a PR company that deals with it. They’ll forward all mail on to all of you – once the series has ended.’

‘Does that mean we all got letters?’ Billy enquired.

‘Yes, yes, most probably – there are all sorts of strange people out there who feel it’s their God-given duty to write to anyone who appears on television as if they were their bosom chums and most of it is complete rubbish.’ Gabby licked her lips. ‘But Ash certainly has an extremely bulging postbag.’

Oh yuck, Ella thought.

Tom shook his head.

‘OK, it all seems to be in order here – and I really like the wild flowers – very pretty. A nice rustic touch.’ Gabby strode around, checking and rechecking. ‘I shall be going upstairs now for my rest and subsequently my dressing, hair and make-up. Again, I want No Disturbances Whatsoever. Oh, and I trust – Oh, what’s her name? Oh, yes, Mrs Snapdragon, and the child, the animals and anyone else who isn’t taking part in the show, will be kept well out of the way this time?’

Poll nodded happily. ‘Oh, yes. There’ll be no repetition of last time, Gabby. Trixie is upstairs, George is staying with friends in Hazy Hassocks, the animals are all securely locked in this time, and Onyx isn’t going to be here because she’s working. You’ll have no problems tonight, I can assure you of that.’

‘Good. Well, no doubt Tom will want to drink himself senseless – not difficult for him, he’s got a head start – while I’m resting. I’ll see you at seven thirty on the dot.’

As the crew continued their never-ending checking and run-throughs, and the lights were turned up to eyeball-burning level, and the sound man did the mic’ing up, and
Ella, Ash, Poll and Billy made sure that everything they would need for their Farmhouse Feast Mark Two was arrayed on the kitchen table, Tom, clutching a bottle of beer, drifted out into the garden.

‘Poor sod.’ Billy watched him go. ‘A miserable marriage is a dreadful thing.’

‘Makes you wonder why so many people seem to go in for them, doesn’t it?’ Ash said morosely, rearranging the new potatoes and baby leeks he’d need for his soup starter. ‘Can’t see the point myself.’

‘You will, lad,’ Billy chirped happily. ‘That’s what we all say, but when you meet the right person, it all makes sense and –’

He caught Ella’s eye and stopped abruptly.

Ella suddenly concentrated fiercely on the three piles of currants on her part of the table. Just think of cooking, she told herself. Don’t think about Ash, or Onyx, or Mark frolicking in Portugal with the customer services girls, or anything else at all. Just think about cooking.

Strangely, Trixie had been right about one thing, though – the adrenaline rush had kicked in nicely, and she was no longer tired. Well, there’s one blessing, she thought. I might want to bawl my eyes out all through the damn filming but at least I won’t fall asleep, face down, in my home-made custard.

Gabby reappeared in the kitchen dead on the dot of half past seven, just seconds after Tom had wandered in from the garden and hid a couple of empty beer bottles in the recycling box.

‘Are you sober?’

‘Of course. I’m not a lush. I just like to relax with a drink before going on air.’

‘A drink or twenty,’ Gabby snapped, smoothing down her skintight scarlet frock and stalking across to the oven on her stilt-high red patent Louboutins. ‘Thank goodness one of us is capable of remaining professional, and upright. Oven on? Yes, good. Fans? Plenty. Good again. Tables prepped to perfection? Yes, fine. OK, now does everyone remember what they have to do?’

Everyone said they did.

‘Right.’ Gabby glanced at her watch and nodded at the producer. ‘Let’s get the count-down under way.’

The pre-programme checks flew by and it seemed to Ella that it was merely nanoseconds before ‘Pickin’ a Chicken’ echoed into Hideaway.

No one would have guessed Tom and Gabby had just been sniping at each other, she thought, as they stood side by side in front of the kitchen table, smiling warmly into the camera and seamlessly welcomed the viewing nation to
Dewberrys’ Dinners
.

‘This is the most exciting week of our series,’ Gabby gushed to camera as soon as she’d done the ‘you can start cooking – now!’ bit. ‘The first semi-final. It’s been a real roller-coaster ride over the last four weeks, when Tom and I have been up and down the country, invited into so many lovely homes, and treated to so many fabulous feasts.’

‘Yes,’ Tom agreed. ‘And it’s always so hard to choose just four teams for our semi-final, isn’t it Gabby? Or should I say, my Lady in Red?’

Ella cringed.

Gabby threw him a coy simper. ‘We’re all in red tonight, Tom.’ Then to the camera. ‘As you can see, our four hardworking chefs from Berkshire, our southern area heat winners, have chosen the same colour as me. Red for luck, or red for danger? We’ll have to find out, won’t we? So, Tom, if you’d like to introduce them once again, and find out what deliciousness they’re cooking for us tonight.’

Ella faltered in beating her sugar and butter together, suddenly petrified. Her hands shook. Damn it, and her lips had stuck to her teeth again. Please don’t let anyone speak to her just yet…

‘Let’s say hello again to Poll Andrews.’ Tom was at his most kindly. ‘Poll owns this lovely Berkshire farmhouse and she and her friends gave us a fabulous vegetarian Farmhouse Feast to win the southern heat. So, Poll, what’s on your menu for this evening?’

Poll sighed happily, not a nerve in sight. ‘Tonight, Tom, we’re going to serve you and Gabby an Old-fashioned Farmhouse Cheeseboard.’

Ella marvelled at Poll’s sangfroid. She was so self-possessed tonight. Love certainly was an amazing thing. Ah well, she’d just have to try to get through without it, wouldn’t she? For cooking and being on telly and for the rest of her life…

‘Oooh!’ Tom exclaimed warmly, albeit a touch OTT, Ella felt. ‘That sounds fascinating, Poll.’

Poll nodded confidently. ‘We’re using home-made cheese in the cooking of our first two courses, and rounding off the cheese in the time-honoured country manner – with fruit – for our third course.’

‘Yummy!’ Tom beamed. ‘Right, so you all keep cooking, and Gabby and I will wander around and watch and chat. No pressure!’

Still completely tranquil, Poll started to gracefully gather the remainder of her ingredients together as Tom walked to the far end of the long refectory table.

‘And here,’ Tom announced, ‘we have Ash and Billy, the Kings of the First Course. So, what’s our starter this evening, boys?’

‘A nineteen fifties leek, potato and blue cheese soup,’ Ash said, chopping very tiny potatoes in half and seasoning them
with coarse salt and black pepper. ‘With baby leeks and these new potatoes, both dug fresh from the garden this morning, herbs gathered from the kitchen garden less than an hour ago, and the whole thing garnished with Hideaway’s own blue cheese.’

‘Wow!’ Tom said. ‘Couldn’t be fresher than that, could it, folks? And Billy? What are you making for us?’

‘Cheese biscuits,’ Billy said, also amazingly calm. ‘From a family recipe that’s umpteen years old. The trick with these little blighters, as well as using Hideaway’s own cheese, is the addition of cayenne pepper to spice them up a bit. They go down a treat with that soup of young Ash’s, I can tell you.’