‘I could bring some games,’ said Gav.
‘Only if you want me to cut your nads off,’ retorted Lucy.
‘Luce, will you ring the Hands DownPRguy and set up the interviews? And give him David’s number, too, so they can liaise about the photoshoot.’
I pretended to search for something in my drawer, bracing myself in case she asked why I wasn’t ringing Nick myself. But she agreed without a fuss and got back to her work of terrorising Gav.
The night before Lucy’s birthday, I declined all invitations to go out and get pissed because I had my own plans: I was going to make a birthday cake. I’d bought a cookery book in Tesco on a whim, thrown a few ingredients into my basket and was all set to get stuck in. Thirty-four years old and it would be the first cake I’d ever made from scratch. Was that lame or impressive?
It was all going swimmingly until I realised I only had caster sugar and not icing sugar. Would it make that much difference? To be safe, I rang Alice to check.
‘Sorry, Zoë, the line must be bad because it sounded like you said you were baking a cake.’
‘I know it’s unbelievable, but you heard right.’
She broke the news that the clue was in the name and thaticingneededicingsugar. Attempting it with caster sugar would only lead to disaster.
It meant another trip to the supermarket, but I had no choice.
‘Why don’t I bring some over?’ she said. ‘I can be there in ten minutes.’
‘Really?’
‘I need to check with my own eyes that my sister-in-law is cake-making. In fact, I might need to get photographic proof because Pete is never going to believe me.’
*
Two hours later, we were licking the bowl and the cake was rising nicely in the oven.
‘How are things at work?’ asked Alice, while I started on the washing-up.
‘Not great.’ I let out a breath, making the soap suds fly. ‘We’re running a big feature on Hands Down.’
‘But that’s really cool!’
I smiled. I’d forgotten that Alice was secretly a fan.
‘Well, it will improve sales in the short run. Whether it will convince our parent company to keep faith in us is another question.’
‘I believe in you,’ she said.
Her words brought a lump to my throat.
‘Enough about me,’ I said. ‘Tell me about Pete’s latest groomzilla meltdown. Mum mentioned that he’d ordered the wrongstefana.’
These were the crowns that were placed on the bride and groom’s heads during the wedding sacrament to symbolise that the two were now united.
Alice giggled. ‘He bought them online and prided himself on getting a bargain. Turns out they weren’t crowns, but napkin rings. He’s promised to go up to Southgate at the weekend to buy them in person.’
Baking, especially with company, turned out to be a lovely mood-booster, because the next day I felt remarkably positive. The cake had survived the journey on the Central Line and was now safely hidden in Mike’s office.
Jody and Ayisha had brought balloons and poppers, and Rob had designed a ‘birthday girl’ banner.
At lunchtime, Gav took me to one side to have a word.
‘I must be a glutton for punishment,’ he said. ‘Because I’ve organised a surprise for Lucy’s party tonight.’
‘Don’t say you’ve bought a new board game.’
