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Oh, God! What had she let herself in for?
Chapter Fourteen
‘So, you reckon it needs more cocoa, not less?’
‘Yes, it’s not coming through strong enough in the tasting, but a little less on the chillies, they’re overpowering the chocolate and it doesn’t work,’ advised Ella.
It was Tuesday afternoon and a week had passed since Millie’s trip to the Diamond Falls. She and Ella had been working in the kitchen all morning on the final few recipes for the start of theChocolate & Confetticourse in six days’ time. Everything was coming together well and when they had completed the next batch of chilli-chocolate muffins to Ella’s satisfaction they would be finished for the day. Millie was proud of the itinerary Claudia would be offering at the Paradise Cookery School – at least the culinary side of things was on track, ahead of schedule in fact.
She wished she could say the same for the kitchen renovations.
However, for Millie, the best thing about her time in St Lucia had been sharing her passion for food with a fellow baker. She was immensely grateful to Ella for introducing her to unusual Caribbean ingredients and exotic spices, and for demonstrating new techniques. She had listened attentively, consumed every morsel of advice offered, and then put everything into practice with eloquent skill. In a break from the norm, she had used a notebook into which she had copied every recipe, adding her own twists in the margins.
Then it had been Millie’s turn to show Ella some of her signature bakes – a favourite being the gooseberry-and-elderflower millefeuille. Millie experienced a sharp frisson of pride at being given the opportunity to mentor such an accomplished chef. She had never thought anyone would want to listen to what she had to say, let alone so intently and with such obvious gratitude. She was much more accustomed to being the student than the mentor. It was a special feeling.
They had chopped, sautéed, scrambled, and poached all week. They had sliced mango, peeled cassava, scooped out passion fruit and grated nutmeg. They had made pineapple jam and lime marmalade, as well as cooked up savoury dishes with yam, okra, and plantain. Freshly caught seafood was a special favourite for both of them, and they had experimented with barbequing unusual catches offered by the local fishermen only hours from the ocean.
They tasted every recipe they created with a critical palette. The dish had not only to perform magic on their taste buds, but also produce a feast for the eyes. Herbs, spices, fruits, everything was discussed and catalogued and graded for its ability to add to or deflect from the main ingredients, be it fish, poultry, meat, or vegetable.
But the icing on the cake had been their easy camaraderie. They had laughed and giggled as they ate, sharing increasingly intimate details of their lives, their loves, and their dreams for the future.
‘I would really love to have a go at presenting a cookery course one day,’ mused Millie as she stirred fresh lemon juice into a bowl of powdered sugar.
‘Then do it, my dear,’ said Ella, slotting the final tray of chocolate muffins into the oven. ‘We mould our own destinies, formulate our own dreams. If we don’t chase them with single-minded determination, how are they going to come true?’
Ella passed Millie a glass of home-made lime punch made from the remaining limes she had picked from the garden that morning and wandered out to the balcony. The daily deluge had passed and the puddles in the courtyard were rapidly evaporating. The foliage of the banana trees creaked and groaned as the sun resumed its onslaught and the temperature climbed once again.
‘Have you followed your dreams, Ella?’ asked Millie quietly, joining her at the railing, sipping from her drink.
‘I have. But don’t go thinking it’s been an easy route. The path to contentment never runs smoothly. It’s scattered with boulders the size of pumpkins!’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I loved Henri’s father. Jean-Pierre was in St Lucia for a vacation, but he stayed on – just as you see with many young people who fall in love with our country’s beauty. Dylan, Ryan, Lottie, even Andrew who came here at the ripe old age of forty-five – they have all been seduced by our laid-back lifestyle, our friendliness, our acceptance of life’s bounty. Everyone is searching for their own version of paradise, but for different reasons and with myriad expectations. Some are escaping trauma, whilst others come seeking personal fulfilment, chasing the elusive dream of experiencing happiness every day of their lives. It takes a long time to understand the truth – that change is internal. Most people simply carry their unresolved issues with them into their new lives expecting things to be different. They rarely are.’
Ella paused, her chestnut eyes misting as she thought back to her time with Henri’s father. ‘We partied, we swam, we danced on the beach in the moonlight. We begged a boat and searched for secluded coves where we could kiss beneath the stars. He was my soulmate. I was twenty-two and I had never loved anyone as much – nor since.’
‘So what happened?’
‘It’s simple. I fell pregnant. That wasn’t on the agenda. Jean-Pierre had a life in France. I don’t think he’d thought beyond the palm trees and the sunshine and the golden beaches. He certainly hadn’t contemplated living in the Caribbean permanently with a native of the islands. Oh, I don’t think it was a cultural issue. We both spoke fluent French, we were both Catholics. No, I just don’t think having a family was on his radar at that time in his life – having a child anywhere, in fact. He panicked and caught the next flight home. I never set eyes on him again.’
Millie could think of no words to ease the pain etched on her friend’s gentle face, even after all these years. Henri had told her he was twenty-eight, and still a holiday romance had the ability to scar for life.
‘But didn’t Henri study at a French university?’ asked Millie.
‘Yes, he did. It was hard being a single parent, not only financially – there was a stigma attached to being an unmarried mother, especially after a fling with a holidaymaker! I never thought of our relationship as a fling because I had truly loved Jean-Pierre. But we managed, despite the orchestrator of my fate not having the decency to provide me with a variety of options.’
Ella’s smooth, youthful skin, strong, rounded cheekbones and proud tilt of her chin belied the vagaries of a life lived as a lone parent prepared to do whatever necessary to make a better life for her son, despite the accident of his birth.
‘Henri got a job helping out at the newspaper when he was fourteen and that kept him in pocket money and out of trouble. It’s so difficult for young people today, especially the boys. There’s such pressure to hang out with the gangs, get involved in petty theft – which has become a huge issue recently here in Soufrière – or even drugs. I couldn’t let that happen to my Henri, so I gathered my courage and contacted Jean-Pierre. It’s easier nowadays with social media than it was then, but I found him without any problem, and he was doing very well for himself too. An equine vet in Bordeaux, no less. Anyway, he agreed to sponsor Henri whilst he did his degree in France.’
Ella paused, and Millie reached out to squeeze her hand in a gesture of support.
‘I had told Henri everything as he was growing up so it wasn’t a surprise. I think he did meet his father a few times whilst he was over there, but they never managed to build a relationship. Henri loved France, especially Paris, but he was always eager to catch the flight back home in the summer holidays. Every year he resumed his job at the SoufrièreTribuneuntil he graduated. I think he has plans to be editor-in-chief one day.’
The pride in her son’s achievements shone from Ella’s plump face. It was clear she adored him, but it was much more than that; she respected him, and Millie knew it was reciprocated.
‘Talking of romance,’ said Ella. ‘What are you planning to wear for your date with Jake tomorrow night?’
