CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Why had Jensen legged it like that? It was as if he’d seen my face on the poster and couldn’t wait to get away! What other conclusion could I possibly draw from his strange behaviour?
My mind still whirling in confusion, I went back into the kitchen to find Ellie rescuing the pieces of broken pudding bowl. She stood up when she saw me.
‘Are you okay? I heard the crash and came to see what happened.’
I swallowed hard. ‘I’m so sorry about the bowl, Ellie. I don’t know what happened. It just slipped out of my hands. I’ll buy you another one.’
‘No, no. You don’t need to do that.’ She waved away my apologies. ‘I drop things all the time. We’ve got loads of bowls! I just saw you rushing out of the café and I thought maybe you weren’t feeling well.’
‘No, I’m fine, thanks.’
‘Are you sure? You look quite pale.’
I hesitated, tempted for a moment to confess to her what just happened. I’d mentioned meeting Jensen to Ellie and Maddy, but I’d just made a joke of never being able to hold onto a good man when I found one.
A gale of laughter from the function room brought me back to my senses.
I had a demonstration to perform and I needed to have my wits about me with so many pairs of eyes watching my every move! I had to put that strange incident with Jensen to the back of my mind for now...
So I took a deep breath, smiled at Ellie and reassured her that I was fine. She handed me another bowl from the cupboard and we went through to join the Pudding Club members.
With a super-human effort, I managed to smile and keep things moving and it all went without a hitch. After I’d made the chocolate pudding and the syrup sponge mixes and filled the basins, I demonstrated how to wrap them tightly in a layer of parchment paper and foil, and tie the top with string and make a loop for a handle, which would make it easier to take them out of the pan when they were ready. Then I made the star of the night, the sticky toffee pudding.
I found my mind wandering to Jensen a few times, and I almost forgot to mention soaking the dates before adding them. But hawkeyed Marguerite – sitting in the audience with Maya – drew it to my attention, and I thanked her and said I’d forget my head if it wasn’t screwed on, which made everyone chuckle.
After that, everyone wandered through to the café for the pudding tasting.
It was always a tense moment, unwrapping a pudding. Would it have risen properly? Would it be cooked in the middle? Would it have that soft and satisfyingly spongey texture I wanted? But thankfully, on this occasion, all seemed to be well. We set the puddings – which Ellie and Maddy had been warming in the kitchen – on a long table by the door, just like the last time, beside two large blue and white striped jug of custard. For those who preferred it, Ellie brought in ice cream at the very last minute to keep it from melting. Table by table, the guests came up and chose their puddings, with most electing to sample all three.
I exchanged a relieved smile with Ellie.
It had been another good evening. Another successful event.
A loud exclamation pulled me from my thoughts.
I glanced across and realised that people were looking at each other in confusion and putting their spoons down, and my heart clenched with worry.
Was there something wrong with the puddings?
I looked at Marguerite, knowing she would tell me immediately if something wasn’t quite right, and she shrugged and said, ‘This chocolate pudding has way too much salt in it. It’s actually quite inedible.’
‘So is the golden syrup sponge,’ confirmed someone else. ‘Such a pity. I was looking forward to that one most of all.’
‘Well, I can confirm that the sticky toffee pudding is absolutely delicious!’ called someone else.
Ellie and I looked at each other in bewilderment. Then we both rushed forward to find out if the reaction was the same for everyone.
It was. And when I did a taste myself, I was absolutely horrified. Both the chocolate and the golden syrup sponge puddings had a horrible salty taste and were indeed totally inedible, just as Marguerite had said. Only the sticky toffee pudding had turned out the way it usually did.
What on earth had I done?
Had I somehow used salt instead of sugar? But how?
The caster sugar was kept in a large canister in my kitchen, and I’d used it to make the sticky toffee pudding first thing that morning, and I was fairly certain, when I made the other two puddings later that afternoon, I’d scooped sugar from the same canister. So what had gone wrong?
I turned to Ellie with a helpless shrug. ‘I’m so sorry. I really don’t know what happened. I must have used salt instead of sugar.’
She pressed my arm. ‘Don’t worry.’ Turning to the room, she smiled and said, ‘We’re terribly sorry but there’s clearly been a bit of a mix-up with the recipes tonight, but the good news is there’s plenty of sticky toffee pudding, custard and ice cream left for anyone who’d like some?’
Maddy and Katja, looking as confused as anyone, came forward and began clearing away and providing everyone with a fresh bowl and spoon. People got up and began moving towards us.
‘I’d like everyone to take one of my puddings away with them,’ I murmured to Ellie, indicating the display on the counter. ‘Free, of course.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Absolutely. All this is my fault. I want to make things right. There should be enough to go round.’
She nodded. ‘Okay. That’s a great idea.’
Addressing the room, she said, ‘We’d like you all to choose one of Annalise’s mouth-watering boxed puddings to take away with you... a gift from us to make up for your disappointment tonight. They’re on the counter over there, and if we run out of your favourite pudding, I’m sure Annalise can make sure you receive it at the next session.’ She glanced at me for my approval.
I nodded eagerly, relieved by the smiles on people’s faces at Ellie’s announcement. It seemed the wine, the good food and the generally relaxed atmosphere had made people far more forgiving than they might otherwise have been. And for that, I was massively grateful.
I only hoped this disaster wouldn’t stop people coming back the following week...