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‘Hi? Millie? Is it okay to come in?’ asked Imogen, her voice tight with repressed emotion.
‘Of course, of course. Let me introduce you to Denise, Ella’s best friend and fellow Caribbean cook extraordinaire. She’s very kindly agreed to come over to the Paradise Cookery School for the day to help Ella make a start on your wedding cake.’
‘Hello Imogen, it’s good to meet you,’ beamed Denise from her position behind the demonstration bench, her hands thrust deep in a bowl of flour.
Modelling her attire on the colours of the St Lucian flag, Ella’s best friend had clearly been bestowed with a large slice of the body-confidence pie. Her hair was hidden by a gold, blue and black striped turban and, like Ella, she too favoured bold-is-beautiful necklaces. She exuded jollity, and despite having dropped everything to come to Ella’s rescue, there was not a trace of stress on her smooth, wrinkle-free face.
‘Hi Denise. I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you’re all doing this for me.’
Millie’s heart gave a nip of sympathy as she saw Imogen gulp down her emotions and offer them a grateful smile. Smudges of tiredness had appeared beneath her eyes, which were suspiciously pink from the tears she had inevitably shed since she had received the upsetting news about the hotel’s kitchen fire.
‘It’s no problem at all, my dear,’ said Ella, gathering Imogen into her arms, her multi-coloured bangles jangling around her wrist as she gave her a bear hug before resuming mixing the cake batter. ‘I’m so sorry about what happened to your wedding cake, I hope the hotel is investigating the cause?’
‘Jerome has promised to report back to Alex as soon as he can. Mum’s acting like a whirling dervish: issuing orders, demanding answers, making lists, checking what still needs to be done before Sunday. She’s even found the address of Fleur’s office in Castries and has arranged for Brad to drive her over there so she can give her a piece of her mind. I wouldn’t like to be anywhere in the vicinity when that conversation happens. Karen and Gracie are going to spend the day printing off some of the photographs Carla’s taken of me and Alex and turning them into bunting for decorating the gazebo, so I’m afraid there’s only me, Carla and Harriet as your willing apprentices – just point us in the right direction and we’ll get to work. I know that the best thing for me to do at the moment is to keep busy.’
‘Okay. I think you should be on wedding cake duties so that Ella and Denise have an idea of the sort of design you’d like. Denise called in a favour, and she’s managed to get a whole carton filled with fresh flowers to decorate the table and cake stand. Ella’s suggested a triple-tiered chocolate cake coated with fondant icing in white chocolate, milk chocolate and dark chocolate decorated with chocolate flowers and hearts.’
‘Oh, that sounds perfect.’ Tears glistened on Imogen’s lower lashes as she snatched up an apron and set to work in between Ella and Denise sifting the flour and cocoa.
‘So, what do you have planned for us, Millie?’ asked Carla, strolling into the kitchen after snapping a few extra photographs of the Pitons from the villa’s veranda. ‘You know, I don’t think I’ll ever grow tired of looking at this view. It has everything a professional photographer could wish for: the azure of the ocean, the emerald of the forest, the elegant sweep of the bay, the higgledy-piggledy terracotta roofs of the town nestled below the majesty of the Pitons. I can totally understand why Claudia has called this The Paradise Cookery School.’
‘Come on, Carla. We’re supposed to be helping Millie with the baking,’ chastised Harriet, collecting her hair in her hands and tying it back with a band.
‘Okay, so we’ll be spending the day making cake pops. We need to whip up a few chocolate sponge cakes first. When they’re cool, we’ll crumble them, add frosting and mould them into shape on these sticks. Then we’ll pop them in the freezer for an hour or so before we decorate them.’
‘What on earth are cake pops?’ asked Carla, slotting her hair behind her ears and pushing up the sleeves of her turquoise tee-shirt.
‘I think it might be best if I just showed you.’
Millie scrolled through her phone until she found an image of wedding-themed cake pops displayed in a painted flowerpot covered with confetti. Half of the cake pops had been decorated as a bride; the moulded chocolate cake dipped in white chocolate with a painted veil and finished off with a tiny pearl necklace. The other half represented the groom, complete with a dark grey top hat and a cute pink bow tie.
‘Oh my God – they are gorgeous! Why haven’t I discovered cake pops before now! They look too good to eat. Ah, look, there’s a cake pop poodle. It’s completely adorable. Oh, and is that a goldfish with a crown? Oh, Carla, we’ve got to make some of those heart-shaped ones, too, and a few of—’
‘Hold on,’ interrupted Millie, laughing at Harriet’s enthusiasm. ‘We’re making these for Imogen and Alex’s wedding guests. We’ve got thirty-six to make, wrap in cellophane and tie with colour-co-ordinated ribbons. If we have any time at the end, we can experiment with other shapes.’
The three girls spent the next hour whipping up a dozen sponge cakes to form the interior of the cake pops before crumbling them into a large bowl and adding melted chocolate and chopped hazelnuts.
‘Gracie would absolutely love to do this,’ declared Carla.
‘She’d probably make a better job of it, too. No offence, Carla, but your bride and groom combos look like a pair of boobs.’
‘Do you think?’ Carla laughed, squeezing the lumps of cake mixture on the end of her lollipop stick into pointed twin peaks.
‘Okay, that’s forty. We’ll pop them into the freezer to harden and we’ll decorate them later. So, what do you want to make with the mixture we have left?’
‘I want to make Gracie one of those cute pink owls,’ said Harriet, pointing to the photograph on Millie’s phone.
‘And I’m going to make Greg one of those sharks,’ grinned Carla. ‘Perfect!’
Imogen joined them and they indulged in a session of creativity and laughter, like a group of primary school children let loose on the craft table. They rolled the cake mixture into spheres the size of golf balls, stuck in a lollipop stick, and then sculpted them into a myriad of shapes.
‘I used to love working with play dough when I was a child. It’s so therapeutic. You know, all it takes is a couple of hours of baking and the stress and worry of this morning has melted away. So what if we haven’t got a traditional fruit-filled wedding cake covered in marzipan and royal icing? It’s not the end of the world. In fact, don’t tell Mum I said this but I think I prefer the cake Ella and Denise have made.’
‘What are the guys doing today?’ asked Millie, tossing a tea towel on top of the pile of washing up waiting for attention on the end of their workstation.
‘They’re hiking up Gros Piton then spending the afternoon at the Sulphur Springs indulging in a mud bath. Alex did offer to go to Castries with Mum and Brad, but Mum didn’t want him to miss the expedition. He’s been looking forward to the hike since Greg booked it. They’re expecting us to join them at the Blue Orchid in Soufrière for cocktails when we’re finished here.’
‘So, Imogen, how did you and Alex meet?’
