Chapter 25 #2
Making the rest of the diorama was equally difficult: painstakingly measuring out the windows and doors for the café front, creating the little windows out of icing and sticking them down with water, making the front steps.
Every piece of royal icing felt like it was torturing him.
Everything had to be so precise, so intricate.
He binned several iced decorations that failed miserably, and had to hold in a stream of swear words as the camera passed him by and filmed clips of his suffering.
He was so sweaty, he kept having to splash water on his face and wash his hands.
The cobblestone path was a nightmare to create for the cake, too, since it had to look natural, but his first few attempts looked like a young child trying to draw circles.
He had originally planned to make a miniature version of Reina, to dance around the front of the café, but he decided against that. Making a collection of trees with wafer-paper leaves was a struggle enough and he was running out of time.
When he was done with everything, it was like he’d run a marathon; his clothes were certainly sweaty enough to mark him out as an athlete. There was a tension headache forming on his skull, his neck ached from leaning over royal icing, and his fingers were pinched with effort.
He’d given it his all. Now to see what the judges thought. He drank more water, and splashed some on his face and neck to cool himself down.
‘Okay, everyone, time’s up!’ Ronan called, clapping his hands to get their attention as the camera swung to face him. ‘Please stop baking!’
Lucas’s shoulders sank, because of course he could see Clem’s creation sitting on the corner of her workstation – he’d avoided looking at it while he focused on his own cake, because he knew it’d make his confidence waver.
He’d been right.
It was glorious. Catpurrcino was hyper-realistic, even though the cake-building was quite small and far less tall than his own, the windows perfectly iced and decorated, the awning neatly coloured, the cherry tree a pink cluster of marshmallows and what appeared to be shredded coconut.
She’d managed to add cat silhouettes into the windows, artistically painted on.
The brickwork exterior was full of tidy, straight lines, and she’d made a chalkboard sign for the front and painted the café logo onto it – a cat sticking its head up from inside a cup of coffee.
He stood no chance against her.
Leaning around her slightly, he rose up onto his feet to check out what the other contestant had done: a representation of their cake shop, bright pink and full of character, with a recreation of their work van parked outside too – but it was not quite as intricate as Clem’s.
‘As you know, this round is going to be slightly different. We’ll be judging your cakes outside in front of a much bigger audience than usual, to make the final extra splashy,’ Ronan informed them.
‘Please bring your bakes outside, where we’ll chat to you about your individual dioramas.
We’ll then send you into the tent while we confer, do some taste-testing, and share your cakes with our audience. From there we’ll announce our winner!’
They all headed outside into the hot sunshine with their bakes, Lucas clutching his carefully to be sure he didn’t drop it.
An oblong table was set up, draped in a cloth, where they could set their bakes down, and they lined up in the grass behind it.
The heat of the sun was scorching Lucas’s scalp, warming his hair, and he hoped they’d get this over with quickly so they could move off into the shade.
The audience was seated so they could watch from their semi-circle position – a series of faces, both old and young, some craning their necks to get a better look at the cakes on display.
They were shaded under a canopy and Lucas spotted his mum and dad in the crowd, his mum dressed in a pretty lemon-patterned sundress and white sandals, and his dad in a green button-neck shirt and dark jogging bottoms. He noticed his dad had a slight wince curving his mouth, imperceptible to anyone who hadn’t spent a lot of time with him.
He must be in pain, but trying not to show it.
But he’d come. They’d brought Reina too – Lucas hadn’t wanted to leave her at home on such a nice day – and she was behaving herself, curled at his mum’s feet with a chunk of beef jerky.
To his annoyance, Georgina was there too, a few rows behind them, sunglasses pushing her honeyed hair back.
He worked hard to keep the frown off his face, because the camera kept sweeping around.
But why was she here? He’d told her not to come; it was best if she stayed away. She’d better not cause any trouble.
They listened to the cake shop owner explain the nature of their business and what they’d been aiming to do with their pink diorama. The camera moved on to Clem, whose hands were grasping the sides of her skirt tightly.
‘Can you tell us about your diorama of Catpurrcino, Clem, and how you’ve done it?’ asked Ronan.
‘Sure . . . so it’s Catpurrcino in the springtime, with the cherry tree in full bloom.
’ She pointed at the tree she’d constructed, and her voice got stronger the more she spoke.
‘The tree is made of modelling chocolate, and I used marshmallows rolled in shredded coconut for the blossoms,’ she explained.
‘The pathways out front are made with Rice Krispies and coconut. The cake itself is vanilla with a strawberry and cream filling.’
‘And what were you hoping to represent about your business?’ Laurette enquired.
The audience were listening with rapt attention, as was Lucas. The only sound was birdsong, somewhere in the trees, and a rustling breeze that cooled his scalp.
‘Well . . . New beginnings and renewal. One of the main aims Sylvie has with Catpurrcino is to make people feel like they’re comforted from the pressures of everyday life.
A place where you can forget your troubles for a while.
Hopefully, when you step out of Catpurrcino, you feel renewed.
Ready to take on whatever life can throw at you next.
But more than that . . .’ She wavered before straightening her spine and continuing.
‘It’s been like that for me, too. Working there has given me so much confidence and it’s because of the café I’ve been able to develop so much as a baker.
I don’t know if I would have done that without Sylvie, and everyone else at the café. ’
There was a beat of silence where everyone absorbed this.
Lucas’s insides had frosted over, despite the heatwave, and he shifted his feet in the grass.
How could he possibly match up? Muddy Paws Café as a business venture meant a lot to both him and Dwayne – it was something they’d both wanted to achieve – but there wasn’t a deep, personal meaning like Clem’s.
They’d both floundered after university, talked about opening a café together, and put their hospitality experience to good use to do something they enjoyed. It didn’t go much deeper than that.
‘It’s clear the café means a lot to you,’ Ronan said, and the judges either side of him nodded, ‘and that’s definitely come through in your wonderful presentation. The cats you’ve added to the windows are a gorgeous touch.’
‘It’s beautiful, and we’re looking forward to seeing what it tastes like!’ said Viviana.
‘Thank you,’ said Clem, glancing down.
‘And now for your rival, the dogs!’ Ronan laughed, and the gathered audience joined in. As if on cue, Reina, who had been chomping on her beef jerky, looked up, barked and wagged her tail furiously, her fur shining like gold in the sunlight.
‘Could we get a shot of the dog?’ Ronan asked the cameraman. ‘That’d be so perfect . . .’
There was a pause while the camera captured some shots of Reina. When the attention of both the camera and the onlookers returned to Lucas, he still had no idea what he was going to say to match up to Clem’s speech.
‘And how about your cake, Lucas?’ Ronan asked him. ‘Can you tell us what you’ve baked, and what it means to you?’
What it means to you . His neck was hot.
This cake meant something to him not because of Muddy Paws Café, but because he wanted to help his family, his dad.
He glanced at his father, who was watching Lucas closely.
He gave him a tight smile through his pain, and his mum reached over and clasped his hand.
He was enduring so much to be here for Lucas.
Something inside Lucas clenched, too.
‘It’s a vanilla sponge, with chocolate ganache – a mix of milk chocolate, dark chocolate, and double cream,’ he explained. ‘I used fondant and royal icing to decorate things like the windows and doors and the other small details.’
‘It’s certainly detailed!’ said Viviana, moving closer to it to get a better look.
‘As for the meaning . . .’ Lucas began.
He hesitated. Their story wasn’t his to tell.
Not with a whole audience watching and an entire internet full of chattering Whisked Away fans waiting to speculate and gossip.
That had already happened with Clem and he wasn’t sure he could let it happen to his father too.
His father was a proud man. He’d never come back from that.
It was hard enough to get him to open up to medical professionals and he hated talking about his pain.
Taking a breath, Lucas made his decision.
‘When I left university with a film degree, I wanted to work in filmmaking. But it was a difficult career to get off the ground. I ended up working a lot of catering events with Dwayne.’ The two of them swapped a smile.
‘Dwayne studied business – we met at uni. Anyway, we worked events all over the country. Weddings. Parties. Corporate. LARPing – you know, live action roleplay? Those were some of the most fun since we got to dress up like pirates and rogues.’ Some of the audience members laughed, and frantic whispers broke out among those who probably hadn’t heard of LARPing and wanted to know what it was. Ronan had to shush them.
Lucas smiled faintly before carrying on: ‘All that hard work – we thought, there has to be something more we can do with this. After a while we wanted to go home and be more settled, and we decided to open Muddy Paws Café, a dog-friendly café.’
‘I see. So, this cake is a representation of the hard work it took to build up the business, not long out of university? Your entrepreneurial mindset. I like it,’ said Ronan, who was nodding. ‘I started Ronan’s Real Bakes not long after graduating, too.’
‘Not an easy feat, to build up a business from scratch – we know what that’s like!’ Jonathan added. ‘We can’t wait to taste it!’
‘Thanks,’ said Lucas. His brain was stuttering like a failing engine. Did that mean his explanation wasn’t completely terrible? Maybe he still stood a chance?
‘Okay, everyone! Contestants, please head into the tent while the judges confer. We’ll call you out when we’re ready and we’ll announce the results!’
Lucas turned to follow the others into the tent. As he did so, he spied Georgina, no longer sitting in the audience but walking across the grass to the left of the tent, her glossy hair gleaming in the sun.
No one else was paying her any attention, the audience chatting now, and the judges gathering together nearby to dish out the bakes for taste-testing. Where was she going?
Georgina vanished around the back of the tent, out of sight.