Chapter 25 #2
There was a weight to the room this morning, a dampened atmosphere. Thriller writer, Ron, kept glancing at Billie – he’d been doing that all week, to be fair, but today his glances seemed more loaded than ever. Had Tad missed something – something everyone else was aware of except for him?
‘You’ll be glad to hear our first job for the morning is going to be making dessert, and the lemons are a big hint.
As is the pastry Matteo made earlier, so it had time to chill in the fridge.
Pastry, lemons, ricotta and double cream are your clues…
Does anyone want to have a guess at what we’re going to make?
’ He directed his gaze to Billie, hoping she’d take the bait – after all, lemon tart was where the week was supposed to have started.
She stared back at him as though he’d asked her for the chemical formula for diesel.
Then she huffed a huge breath and folded her arms.
It was going to be a long morning.
Tad glanced around the room, looking for positivity from anywhere he could find it. Hugh smiled at him, then grinned at Kathleen as she muttered something.
‘Kathleen thinks it might be lemon tart,’ Hugh said.
‘Aye, that’s spot on, Kathleen. Thank you.
’ Tad wondered if this was what it was like to stand in front of a class of fourteen-year-olds to deliver an algebra lesson, searching for a sliver of enthusiasm from someone and grabbing on to it as if it were a life raft.
‘The quintessential Italian dessert crostata al limone. Perfect to cook ahead of time for a dinner party, because it keeps happily in the fridge overnight – or maybe something to conjure up to share with a special someone. One dish, two spoons – that kind of thing.’
As he said it, he couldn’t help but glance at Amy – but it wasn’t her who reacted to his words, however much he wanted her to – instead it was Billie who erupted.
‘Did you say that on purpose?’ she said. ‘Are you expecting some kind of a rise out of me?’
‘I’m sorry?’ he said.
‘Oh, come on, it’s not like you don’t know. I’d have thought someone in your position would be taking more care with your words right now. Don’t forget who I am.’
‘Poking the bear,’ murmured Malcolm from the corner of the room. ‘Braver man than me.’
Tad rubbed a hand across his cheek. What on earth were they talking about?
‘It’s true then?’ Ron said from his station on the far side of the room.
‘None of our business, Ron,’ said his wife quickly as Billie swivelled on her stool to glare at them.
‘No. You’ve got that right. It is absolutely none of your business. It’s nobody’s business, but the whole world knows – well, everybody except our dozy chef – and nobody can possibly know what it feels like to be me right now.’
‘Where’s my tiny violin?’ said Kathleen, rather loudly. Then to the room in general, she added, ‘Not one to suffer in silence, is she?’
Billie looked fit to burst, colour rising in her cheeks as she moved her glare to Kathleen.
‘I think what Kathleen is trying to say—’
Hugh’s attempt at mitigation was firmly squashed by Kathleen.
‘I’m not trying to say anything, Hugh. What I am saying is this…
OK, so your bloke ran off with another woman – that’s tough to deal with, and I sympathise.
So did mine. But do you know something? You’ll survive.
And you might even find you’re better off without that two-timing, no-good, son of a—’
‘Yes, thank you, Kathleen.’ Hugh rested a hand on her arm.
‘Well, I think there are other people in the room, it’s our last lesson and I don’t think it’s right for it to be spoiled by—’
‘Yes, Kathleen. I agree.’ Hugh patted at her arm, and she shook her head, then fell quiet.
Tad felt utterly behind the curve. Was he to understand Billie and Kelly Straker had officially broken up?
Maybe that explained her change of mood the previous evening.
Perhaps the entire shift in energy last night had been because of Kelly Straker.
It didn’t explain Amy’s change of heart, but perhaps it was all interlinked, somehow.
‘As Kathleen says, maybe we should do our best to concentrate on the food,’ Tad said.
Should he say something sympathetic to Billie, or would that stoke the flames further?
He needed this lesson to go smoothly – well, as smoothly as was now possible – but as he explained stage one of the creation of their lemon tarts, he knew he should somehow acknowledge her situation.
When the room seemed to settle, and Billie pummelled at her pastry as though it was Kelly’s face, Tad opted to wait, instead making his way around the space, ensuring Kathleen was making a better job with her pastry than she had with her pizza base the day before, helping Hugh as he lifted the pastry into its case, praising Laura and Ron on the speed and ease with which they completed their tasks.
As he returned to the front of the room, he caught Amy’s eye. He smiled, couldn’t help himself – she might not want him, or rather might have had from him all she wanted – but that didn’t stop him from continuing to want more from her than she was willing to give.
His smile gained traction when she smiled back, then faded when she looked past him, towards Billie, and her face fell.
‘This pastry is too warm,’ Billie was saying, poking at it with a finger. ‘I can’t do anything with it.’
‘Here, let me.’
With a deft hand, Tad coaxed the overworked pastry onto a rolling pin and into Billie’s pastry case, easing it into the creases and suggesting she cut off the excess. With that done, he turned to the rest of the room, doing his best to sound upbeat.
‘Right. Parchment paper into your pastry cases, pop in your ceramic beans and while Matteo gets the cases into the oven, we can grab a coffee before we make the filling.’