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‘No, it’s not that at all.’ Millie gaped, horrified that his suggestion may have been overheard. It made her sound like an elitist foodie snob. She indulged in another sip of the hot chocolate, a little too sweet for her taste but still delicious, wrapping her fingers around the handle and hugging the glass cup to her chest.
‘What then?’ he persisted.
‘It’s just,’ she glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice, ‘it’s all a little stodgy, don’t you think? More what you’d feed a trucker at a roadside greasy spoon than a discerning tourist visiting one of England’s most picturesque counties.’
Zach chuckled as he crammed a piece of the rejected parkin into his mouth, licking his lips with exaggerated relish. ‘I grew up eating good wholesome baking like this.’
‘Well, that certainly explains a lot.’
Zach ignored her retort. ‘The majority of Kate’s customers are hikers, cyclists, and ramblers – people who spend their day yomping around this glorious countryside, equipped with only a rucksack and a walker’s pole for company. They need good hearty food to keep their energy levels up. What use is a pistachio-infused macaron, or a profiterole filled with crème pâtissière and dribbled with cucumber juice, going to be? They’d keel over like a bunch of maiden aunts overcome by a bout of the vapours. Extreme cyclists love savoury dumplings floating in rich casseroles, long-distance hikers adore toasted crumpets dripping with butter. Anyway, what else is a Croque-Monsieur but a cheese and ham toastie?’
Millie took a tentative bite of the parkin and experienced a sharp slap to her taste buds causing her to grimace. She briefly wondered whether Zach and Blake had set her up so that they could tease her about her baking snootiness. She narrowed her eyes as Zach continued with his culinary caper, watched over by a smirking Blake from the counter.
‘Kate’s parkin is made from an old family recipe. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind sharing it with you if you were thinking of introducing it at the patisserie paradise you work in in Hammersmith? Maybe it’s exactly what your customers have been craving all these years.’
‘I very much doubt it. Étienne’s serve only the freshest, locally-sourced fruits with our desserts, not this suet-filled, artery-clogging—’
‘Ah, Kate, can I introduce you to Amelia Harper?’
Chapter Nine
Heat flooded Millie’s face as she calculated whether Kate had heard her prognosis on her country fayre. She watched in horror as Zach stood up from his seat and bent down to deposit a kiss on the teashop owner’s cheek before stage whispering in her ear ‘Don’t mind Millie – she’s French and prefers to indulge in those dainty little mince pies and chocolate roulades we had at the party last night – perfect if you’re planning an afternoon tea with Barbie’s pet unicorn. Ooops, sorry, sorry,’ he held up his palm in Millie’s direction, tossing her a mischievous look, ‘halfFrench.’
‘Which half? Top or bottom?’ asked Blake, his bright blue eyes glinting as he re-joined their conversation and made Millie feel even worse.
She ignored Zach and Blake’s amusement and plastered on her brightest smile. ‘Hello, Kate. It’s lovely to meet you. I’m helping Claudia present theFestive Feastcookery course at Stonelea Manor this week.’
‘Yes, Claudia mentioned that Tim had persuaded her to ask for some help this year. I have to admit I’m worried about her. She’s always been so efficient and capable, running those workshops of hers with boundless energy. That riding accident in September seems to have knocked the stuffing out of her, though, never mind being laid up with her leg in plaster for six weeks. I hope she’s taking it easy?’
Kate raised her eyebrows, giving Millie the impression that she thought it was her personal responsibility to protect Claudia’s wellbeing by doing all the hard work herself. Her dark hazel eyes then narrowed, and Millie felt as though her deepest thoughts had been scoured with a wire brush. Her non-too-subtle hint delivered, Kate’s face morphed into a smile, stretching her perfectly applied scarlet lipstick. Before Millie could respond, Kate had drifted away to chat to the couple at the next table, patting her freshly-set auburn waves that had been moulded into something akin to a Russian Cossack’s fur hat and leaving behind an aroma of lily-of-the-valley and caramel.
‘Oh my God, do you think she heard what I said about her cooking?’
‘About it being “stodgy and artery-clogging” and the sole reason our generation is prone to frequent heart attacks and strokes?’ asked Blake, eyeing Millie’s uneaten parkin and giving her a cheeky grin as he confirmed helpfully, ‘Probably.’
‘Oh no. I have to go and apologise.’
Millie began to push herself out of her chair, but Zach pressed his fingers to her forearm. ‘No need. It was an honest critique, and Kate’s no shrinking violet. It’d take more than a passing stranger’s opinion on the heaviness of her pastry to upset her.’
Millie was shocked to experience a sharp stab of discomfort at being described by Zach as a mere “passing stranger”. Of course, it was an accurate description as far as her acquaintance with Kate was concerned and he was probably just trying to make her feel better about her totally unnecessary rudeness, yet she found she suddenly wanted to be a part of this tight-knit community. She had only been in Berryford for three days and she already felt like she belonged there. Ridiculous, she knew.
‘Come on, I’ll drive you back to the manor before you cause any more trouble,’ smirked Zach. ‘Claudia will be thinking I’ve kidnapped you!’
Millie watched Zach settle their bill at the counter, sharing a joke with Blake before again pecking Kate on the cheek. Did every customer of Kate’s Kitchen do that when they left? A surge of envy rolled through her stomach, swiftly followed by relief. There was no way she would want to embrace the customers of Étienne’s, if for no other reason than she would be at it all day!
However, there was something so heart-warming about the way everyone knew everyone else and looked out for each other’s wellbeing – just as Kate had done with Claudia – instilling a sense that whatever happened, Claudia and Tim were not alone, that the villagers would be there to support them in good times and in bad. No wonder Claudia was so distressed about the sale of the manor – not for selfish reasons but because of the impact its change of ownership would inevitably have on the community. She assumed that was why there had been such a lacklustre attempt at filling the house with cheery Christmas decorations; they simply hadn’t been able to face it.
Whilst Zach navigated the bends in the road back to Stonelea, Millie took the opportunity to survey the landscape, still dressed in its winter clothing. Once again, she experienced that special feeling of belonging, of the warm welcome she had received from everyone despite being a “passing stranger”. She knew she wanted to be more than that, she wanted to become an integral part of the village life, but of course it was too late. Claudia and Tim were relocating to St Lucia and, unless he took them up on their offer to go with them, Zach would be out of a job and a home, and who knew where he would end up living – and she suspected that Kate wouldn’t be bothered if she never set eyes on her again.
‘Okay, here we are,’ Zach announced as he pulled into the cobbled courtyard at the rear of the manor. ‘Erm, Millie, would you like to come for dinner tomorrow night? I’ll cook – that’s if you have room after scoffing all the goodies on the menu at the Christmas High Tea?’
She turned in her seat to face Zach. His invitation, and the look of hopefulness in his eyes, was a welcome confirmation that, despite his earlier attempts at keeping their relationship firmly on the friendship rung, his feelings for her had also moved up a level. Her heart performed a somersault of pleasure, and she could think of nothing else she would rather do than spend more time in his company, this time in the more intimate surroundings of his home, with a bottle of Chianti breathing on the coffee table, Binks snoozing at their feet, and a fire burning in the grate.
‘Yes please! What about one of those amazing Spag Bols you made in St Lucia?’
‘You’re on!’ he smiled.
‘Great. See you tomorrow, then.’
