Page 76 of The Cottage at Brambleton Hall

That sounded reasonable enough.

Valerie pointed at another recipe. ‘Oh, and avoid simple things. Magnus hates plain food.’

Sammy pulled her notebook towards her and crossed out roast chicken. ‘Really?’

‘God yes. You serve chicken at a dinner party here and they’ll be very disappointed.’

Sammy’s heart beat a little faster.

Valerie continued leafing through pages. ‘You need at least four courses. Five ideally.’

Sammy swallowed. ‘Five?’

‘Soup. Fish. Main. Dessert. Cheese.’

Sammy stared at her notebook. Five courses. For fourteen people. The heat from the Aga suddenly felt unbearable. Valerie reached for another book and tapped a page decisively. ‘There. Beef Wellington.’

Sammy read the recipe. ‘That looks difficult.’

‘Only because people panic over pastry.’ Valerie shrugged. ‘If I were doing the dinner, I’d choose something like that.’

Something tightened unpleasantly in Sammy’s stomach. If I were doing this dinner. But Valerie smiled and it seemed oddly warm. ‘You’ll be fine,’ she said. ‘Magnus wouldn’t ask if he didn’t think you could manage.’ The reassurance landed so unexpectedly that Sammy immediately relaxed. ‘Thanks,’ she said quietly.

Valerie picked up the laundry basket. ‘Don’t make it boring.’ She headed for the door, then paused. ‘Oh . . . and don’t do anything with apples.’

She disappeared into the corridor.

Sammy immediately drew a heavy line through tarte tatin.

For a while all she could hear was the ticking of the longcase clock from the corridor. Her notebook looked a mess. Lobster. Venison. Beef Wellington. No apples. Five courses. She rubbed both hands over her face. Sammy reached for her phone.

Jean.

‘You all right, love?’

‘Magnus wants me to cook for a dinner party.’

‘That sounds good?’

‘For fourteen people.’

‘That all?’

Sammy laughed ‘Jean.’

‘Well, panicking won’t peel the potatoes for you.’

Sammy slumped into the chair. ‘I don’t know what to make. Everything sounds either too plain or impossibly difficult.’

‘Who says it’s got to be difficult?’

‘Valerie.’

A small pause. ‘Mm,’ Jean said.

Sammy twisted the pencil between her fingers. ‘She said people expect theatre. And Magnus hates simple food.’

‘Did he say that?’