Chapter FOUR
‘I’ve decided I’m going to organise something special for Sylvia and Mick’s wedding,’
said Maddy, as we hurried across the village green towards the café.
It was a windy night in October, already dark at seven, and the crisp autumn leaves rustled beneath our feet as we walked.
The monthly meeting of the Sunnybrook Pudding Club was starting in ten minutes and this time, Annalise had chosen to demonstrat.
‘celebration desserts with a Hallowe’en theme’. My stomach was already rumbling in anticipation of sampling the wonderful puddings I knew from experience she’d be making for us to sample.
‘Something special? So what are you doing?’
I asked Maddy.
She grinned.
‘It’s a secret.’
‘Oh. Right.’
I frowned at her.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Well . . . I’m just not sure you’re allowed to spring surprises at people’s weddings, are you? Weddings tend to be planned very meticulously, down to the last detail. The bride might not like it.’
Maddy snorted.
‘We’re talking about Sylvia here, remember? She’s already ripped up their plans for a boringly sedate do at the Swan Hotel in favour of a mad Hallowe’en celebration at this Gothic mansion in the country. I think a devilish surprise would fit in rather perfectly.’
‘A devilish surprise?’
I looked at her warily.
‘Yes, Fen.’
She beamed at me.
‘You know how at weddings they sometimes release white doves? As a symbol of togetherness and loyalty in relationships and all that guff?’
‘Yes?’
I frowned as I opened the café door and ushered her in ahead of me.
‘Oh, Maddy, please say you’re not thinking of doing a dove release. Doves aren’t like pigeons, you know. They don’t have a homing instinct. So they can get killed if they’re released into the wild.’
She shook her head.
‘Not doves. Something much more exciting than boring white doves.’
‘What’s this about white doves?’
asked Jaz, who was sitting at a table near the door with Primrose and Katja.
We said our hellos and plopped down into two spare seats.
‘Is this for the wedding?’
Primrose frowned.
‘What are you planning, Maddy?’
The tone of her voice told me Primrose was as wary as I was, clearly worried about something going wrong at her beloved grandmother’s wedding.
Maddy grinned.
‘Have you ever heard of the Dracula parrot? It lives in the New Guinea rainforest and it’s got the most incredible black and brilliant red feathers. So I was thinking how amazing it would be to have a couple of them flying around at the spooky dinner Sylvia’s got planned for the eve of the wedding.’
Calmly, she picked up the menu for that night’s event and started scanning it.
I stared at her along with everyone else, trying to decide if she was being serious. With Maddy, you could never tell.
She put the menu down.
‘Great idea, huh?’
‘Er, no, Maddy.’
Jaz broke the silence.
‘For a start, that bird – if it even exists – is definitely going to be on th.
‘illegal to own in the UK’ list.’
‘Thank goodness,’
I muttered. The idea of birds flying around indoors had always scared me. I wasn’t even that keen when they swooped in front of me outside!
‘You’re not serious, are you?’
asked Primrose in horror.
Maddy started to laugh.
‘No, of course I’m not bloody serious! Look at your faces. Honestly, you’re all so easy to wind up. Can you just imagine it? Parrots flying around, cursing like crazy and snatching wigs off the guests’ heads.’
‘Nice image,’
grinned Katja.
‘Is there really such a thing as a Dracula parrot?’
‘Yes. Google it. They’re beautiful but very sinister-looking with their blood-red feathers. And they do look like they’re wearing a black cloak, just like Dracula.’
‘I think Sylvia and Mick could probably do without one of your “wedding surprises”!’
I said with a smile.
‘Oh, I’m still planning a surprise.’
Maddy shrugged.
‘It just might not include birds that look like Dracula, that’s all.’
Our conversation was cut short at that moment by Ellie coming through from the function room at the back of the building and announcing that Annalise was ready to begin her demonstration.
As we joined the queue to file through, Sylvia arrived with Celia Dearlove.
‘I’ve left Mick on his own tonight,’
she told us, her tone almost apologetic.
‘I’d arranged for Evelyn and Joyce, the women from the care organisation, to come in and keep him company, but he insisted on sending them packing. Politely, of course.’
‘He’ll be fine, Sylvia,’
I assured her.
‘We all need a bit of alone time now and again.’
She sighed.
‘I know, I know. I’ve been far too protective since his surgery, which I know has been driving the poor man mad. But I am trying to step back.’
‘Agreeing to have a Hallowe’en wedding was pretty brave of you,’ said Jaz.
Sylvia gave a mischievous smile.
‘To be honest, I’m looking forward to it even more than he is. The Hallowe’en dinner will be such good fun. But I’m still insisting we take it easier on the Big Day itself with just a nice, relaxing tea dance after the ceremony.’
‘I’ve never been to one before. I can’t wait,’
admitted Primrose.
‘Joyce goes to tea dances with her husband sometimes and she’s full of praise for them. Mick’s hired a local band she recommended,’
said Sylvia, as we all filtered through to the back room.
‘They seem worth their weight in gold, those lovely carers. I’d hang on to their services if I were you.’
I grinned at Sylvia.
‘I’d gladly have them in my house restoring order from the chaos the twins cause.’
We took seats in the back row, craning our necks to look at the demonstration table, on which were three objects, each one covered with a cloth. I guessed they must be cake stands.
Then Annalise whisked into the room, wearing a pair of red devil horns.
‘Hello, everyone. And thank you for coming tonight. Oops!’
The horn hairband slipped and almost fell off, but she rescued it in time and a murmur of amusement went round the room.
‘You – er – might be thinking I’m possibly a little too early for Hallowe’en?’
‘It’s never too early to start celebrating fright night,’
said Maddy.
‘Well, quite,’
smiled Annalise, as everyone chuckled.
‘So anyway, I thought that with a very special Hallowe’en wedding on the horizon’
– she winked across at Sylvia .
‘I really should focus tonight on the kind of sweet treats you might want to eat on such an occasion.’
‘Sounds good,’
called Sylvia’s friend, Bertha.
‘Ron will be entertaining the grandchildren at Hallowe’en, while I’m at Sylvia’s hen do, so maybe he could do some baking with them.’
‘Great idea. And I’m sure your grandchildren will love making . . . these little horrors!’
Annalise whipped off a cloth to reveal the cake stand beneath. Removing the dome on top, she brought the mound of cupcakes forward so we could all have a look.
‘Spooky cobweb cupcakes, decorated with an optional fake spider. The cobwebs are made with white icing. And . . . when you cut into the cake, there’s a scary surprise waiting for you inside.’
She gave a nervous grimace.
‘Fingers crossed. I hope it’s worked.’
Putting the cake stand back down on the table, she used tongs to select one of the cobwebby cupcakes and set it on a tea plate. Then she took a knife and sliced into it and to everyone’s amusement a substance that looked like shiny red blood flowed out.
‘Phew! We have ooze.’
She looked relieved.
‘But don’t worry. It’s actually a delicious strawberry compote that’s really easy to make.’
The baking demonstration that followed made my mouth water, especially when Annalise was beating the cake mix and then cutting up the strawberries. She whisked out a cooled compote she’d made earlier, carefully cut the tops off some ready-made cupcakes and spooned compote into the centre, before replacing the lids and ‘drawing’
delicate white cobwebs on top, using an icing bag.
‘They look amazing,’
said Ellie when Annalise held up the tray.
‘But I’m afraid my attempt at making a cobweb in icing would be scarier than the spider!’
Annalise laughed and shook her head.
‘Mine were rubbish to start with. But I practised on a sheet of parchment paper until I got them looking okay. Honestly, it’s easier than it looks and your guests will be well impressed. Now . . .’
She drew a breath and announced.
‘next on the agenda for tonight are my “boo-scotti”. That’s biscotti but with a scary twist.’
She unveiled the next cake stand and showed everyone the contents: biscotti biscuits half-coated with white icing to look like little ghosts, with what looked like chocolate dots for eyes and an elongated ‘O’
for a mouth.
‘You could make your own biscotti, but if you’re short on time, you can do what I’ve done and cheat using store-bought biscuits,’
said Annalise as she demonstrated how to ice them.
‘I love them. Although I’d say they’re cute, rather than scary,’
commented Maddy.
‘I agree. They’re gorgeous,’
said Ellie.
‘I’ll definitely be making some little ghosts with Maisie for Hallowe’en.’
‘They’d be perfect served with the coffee at a wedding breakfast,’
smiled Sylvia.
‘I’m making notes here, Annalise.’
The final unveiling drew lots of ‘oohs’
as a mound of delicious-looking sugar-topped pies were revealed.
‘These are my favourite caramel apple pies,’
said Annalise.
‘Perfect to make in autumn when apples are so plentiful and absolutely delicious served with custard or double cream.’
She shrugged.
‘Not scary at all but I sneaked them in because we all love a good old-fashioned pud once the chilly days of autumn arrive.’
Afterwards, as we all tucked into the individual caramel apple pies, served with a dollop of whipped cream, I had to agree that she was right. They really were delicious.
Towards the end of the evening, Annalise came round chatting to everyone, and when she got to our table, Sylvia smiled up at her.
‘That caramel apple pie is the best dessert I’ve ever tasted.’
‘Really?’
‘Loved it!’
She looked rather sheepish.
‘Actually, I’ve got a favour to ask you, which is rather cheeky of me. Feel free to say no.’
Annalise looked intrigued. ‘Go on?’
‘Well, I was wondering if you would consider making your delicious individual pies for my hen-do dinner?’
She touched Annalise’s arm apologetically.
‘It was just a thought. But it’s probably a bit daunting making pudding on such a large scale? So on second thoughts, maybe I should just get a caterer to –’
‘No! Sylvia, I’d love to do it.’
‘Really?’
‘Of course. I’m honoured you think they’re delicious enough to serve to your guests. And what about the little biscotti ghosts? You mentioned they’d be good served with the coffee?’
‘Well, yes, they would. They’d be perfect. But . . .’
‘Well, how about I make you some of those as well?’
‘Really?’
Sylvia looked alarmed.
‘But have you got the time?’
Annalise chuckled.
‘You know me. I bake for the love of it and it’s the perfect way to relax. So yes, I’d be absolutely delighted to spend an afternoon baking for your wedding. Consider it done.’
Later, I stood with Jaz and Katja for a while outside the café, chatting to Sylvia and Celia about Riverbend Hall. Sylvia showed us some exterior photos she’d taken and it looked amazing. The extensive grounds would make for amazing photo opportunities – especially on the lawns at the front of the house, which swept down to the tree-lined river. The building’s Gothic features made it seem quite sinister, especially on the cloudy day the pictures had been taken, but for a Hallowe’en wedding it was absolutely perfect.
I gazed at a photo, taken at an artistic angle, of a dark and rather foreboding arched window and an ornate spire reaching up into the sky. Sylvia must have caught my awed expression because she nudged me and said appearances could be deceptive and that inside Riverbend Hall was nowhere near as menacing as it looked from the outside!
‘I’m so looking forward to arranging the flowers for your big day,’
smiled Celia. She turned to me.
‘Sylvia’s taking me over to Riverbend Hall next week to get a feel for the place, so we can work out what to do by way of the floral elements. I can’t wait to see it.’
I nodded enthusiastically.
‘We’re all really excited to see what you’re going to do. You’ve got such a flair for making a place look stunning.’
Celia glanced down, seeming a little embarrassed by my praise.
‘That’s really kind of you, Fen,’
she smiled.
‘But to be honest, I think I’ve just been really lucky in my career. I was in the right place at the right time and the TV programme has done wonders for my visibility in the industry. But I’m sure there are plenty of talented florists who could have done just as well in my place, if they’d had the lucky breaks I’ve had.’
‘You’re far too modest,’
I replied.
‘Fen’s absolutely right,’
said Sylvia, linking Celia’s arm.
‘You’re a very talented woman and you’ve dedicated yourself to your career. You deserve every single bit of your success.’
Celia looked oddly wistful for a moment.
‘I do sometimes wonder what my life would have been like without . . . well, floral displays. But we can’t escape our fate, can we?’
Then she smiled.
‘And why would I want to escape it? It’s done me proud all these years.’
‘Exactly.’
Sylvia squeezed her friend’s arm.
‘Now, if you don’t mind, girls, we’ll say goodbye now. I know Mick’s assured me that he’s perfectly fine on his own. But that doesn’t mean I don’t still worry about him.’
‘Give him my love,’
I said, after saying goodnight to Jaz and Katja, and walking with Sylvia and Celia over to Sylvia’s car in the little car park.
As Sylvia got behind the wheel of her ancient little Renault Clio and Celia slipped into the passenger seat, Rob’s car was drawing into the car park. Noticing Mick was in the passenger seat, I knocked on Sylvia’s window and alerted her to this.
Rob and Mick got out and came over.
‘Dad called round to see the kids,’
Rob told me.
‘not realising they’re having a sleep-over with your parents at Brambleberry Manor tonight. So we ordered a takeaway and watched the football.’
‘Great.’
I smiled at my father-in-law.
‘So how did it feel to be a free man tonight?’
I joked, and Mick grinned, understanding exactly what I meant.
‘Nice for one night. But I’ll take Sylvia being in charge of my well-being over the solitary life any day of the week.’
Laughing, I pointed at the Clio. Sylvia was revving the engine.
‘You’d better get in, Mick, before she drives off without you.’
‘How was the Pudding Club?’
Rob slipped his arm around me.
‘Brilliant. But I’m so full of pudding now, I need a lie down.’
He leaned closer and nuzzled my neck.
‘Well, the house is currently a child-free zone,’
he murmured, his breath tickling my ear deliciously.
‘so you can have a lie-down as soon as we get back. If you know what I mean.’
I smiled and tipped my face up for a kiss.
‘I know exactly what you mean.’
We stood watching Sylvia’s car prepare to depart. Then Rob suddenly leaned forwards.
‘Hang on. Is that a nail sticking out of the back tyre?’
Frowning, he moved nearer.
‘Hey, this other tyre’s the same. Look.’
As I hurried over, Rob banged on the boot and shouted for Sylvia to wait, and I saw to my alarm that he was right. I could clearly see the nails he was talking about. They were quite large and had penetrated both tyres on this side of the car.
But Sylvia didn’t seem to be heeding Rob’s warning as she drove away. She must have thought his knocking on the boot was just Rob saying goodbye!
I followed Rob as he sprinted down the lane after the car, waving his arms about and shouting to get their attention. My heart was in my mouth, thinking about the dangers of punctured tyres.
Sylvia was driving along the lane at a modest pace right now.
But what would happen when she drove out of the village and speeded up? What if a tyre burst?
It didn’t bear thinking about and in my panic, I ran as fast as I could to try and catch up with them . . .