Читать книгу Lucie’s Vintage Cupcake Company - Daisy James - Страница 15

Chapter Seven

‘Infamous, more like,’ Steph muttered under her breath, as she too grabbed her mobile to check her Twitter feed, a thoughtful expression on her face.

‘You’ve even got your own hashtag and it’s trending! Look!’

Lucie sighed and braced herself to take a peek at her own phone.

While #LividLucie had a certain ring to it, it wasn’t a tuneful one. She was mortified. She dropped her head into her hands, her curls falling across her fingers, as nausea coiled around her abdomen. Could this really be happening to her? Did she really have her own hashtag that was trending on Twitter?

‘I’m so, so sorry, Lucie. But, well, it is sort of funny, don’t you think? Excruciatingly embarrassing, of course, but in a few days I’m sure you’ll see the funny side,’ cajoled Hollie as she squeezed out the last drop of wine into Lucie’s empty glass. ‘Ed Cartolli had it coming to him. Have you read some of his other reviews? There’s a Thai restaurant in Hammersmith that had to close its doors as soon as his review of their place went live.’

‘That’s because he found a snail in his coconut and prawn soup. The environmental health inspectors would have closed them down, not Ed Cartolli,’ said Steph, but held up her hand to quieten Hollie as she opened her mouth to continue her tirade of indignation against the reviews on Anon. Appetit. ‘Okay, Hols, okay, I’m not defending the guy. I’m just saying it wasn’t him who shut the restaurant down.’

‘Can’t you do anything, Steph? You’re a lawyer. Can’t you send him a letter or a subpoena or something? Make all this stop?’

‘I’m a divorce solicitor, Hollie. And even if this was my area of expertise, there still wouldn’t be anything I could do. It’s out there like a metaphorical bull in a china shop. In fact, to be fair to Mr Cartolli, not one of the uploaded videos has appeared on the Anon. Appetit blog or his Facebook page or Twitter feed. These posts are the work of the diners who were at the restaurant, which have been shared and retweeted ad infinitum.

‘And even if I could get one person to take their post down, there are still others who are sharing it. God, Lucie, Hollie’s right. It’s gone viral! We should have done more to stop you going into work after what happened with Alex. You could definitely plead temporary insanity to your crime against karma. My considered advice, as a lawyer and as a friend, is to lie low for a few days; don’t under any circumstances comment or react, and wait it out until someone else stumbles inadvertently into the spotlight and messes up big time. The bandwagon rolls on and people forget.’

‘So there’s nothing I can do? You’re telling me to crawl under a stone and never show my face in public again, is that it?’

‘Well, no, not “never”. Just for a few weeks…’

‘You said days a minute ago. Oh God! What am I going to do?’

‘Hey, maybe Francesca’s reservations will improve?’ said Hollie. ‘That happens sometimes, you know. It’s called rubbernecking, I think. And don’t people say that any publicity is…’ Hollie shrank under Steph’s warning glare and took refuge in her wine. She noticed her glass was empty again and jumped up to order another bottle from the hunky blond bartender she’d been ogling for months. When she returned she was giggling.

‘What’s so funny?’ asked Steph.

‘Maybe Lucie will get a slot on Hell’s Kitchen? Like a female Gordon Ramsay?’

‘Hollie… You’re not helping.’

Hollie jumped back onto her bar stool and, while Steph replenished their glasses, started to fiddle with her phone again. ‘Wow, look at your Twitter account, Lucie! You have twenty thousand followers! Hang on, hang on. I’ll just check Francesca’s Facebook page. Oh my God, nearly five thousand new likes!’

‘Likes? People “like” what has happened!’ exclaimed Lucie, her face glowing with heat as tears threatened to spill once more.

She didn’t care what was happening on social media. She intended to close her accounts immediately. That was easy enough to do, but what was she going to do without a job? No restaurant manager worth their salt would be clambering over themselves to offer her a job. Who would be crazy enough to risk employing her at the moment? She was a pariah! And she couldn’t contemplate working anywhere other than in a kitchen. Food was her passion – no, her obsession – and this was accompanied by a burning desire to continually improve, to hone her talent, to expand her knowledge.

‘I can’t just crawl into a hole for the next few weeks, Steph! I need to work. I need to cook. Every memory I have has food in it somewhere; whether it be an aroma, a flavour on the tongue, a texture under my fingertips. Every aspect sends my memory zooming back to Mum’s kitchen when I used to watch her prepare for her next TV appearance. It’s the thing in my life I love the most – especially now that Alex has ditched me.’

Lucie’s hand shot up to her mouth.

‘Oh God, Alex! He’s bound to have seen this! Now he has every reason to hate me. Do you think it will affect his partnership prospects at Carter & Mayhew? I can almost feel his relief at choosing to walk away from the disaster that is Lucie Emily Bradshaw. No wonder he’s severed all contact. Who could blame him?’

She slumped back in her stool, her elbow resting on the bar. She slotted her chin into her palm, staring at Steph and Hollie in turn, begging for understanding like a lost dog that has been left out in the rain. She took in the expressions on the faces of her two best friends in London. It was clear they were suffering as much as she was and this only added to the turmoil in her heart. How could she have done this dreadful thing to her friends? She was ashamed of what she had done at Francesca’s and wished with all her heart she could spin back time. But her former unhesitating confidence in the power of love and her belief in the restorative effect of oestrogen solace had been punctured by the sharp nib of a poisoned pen.

‘Well, actually, I happen to think being fired is a good thing,’ countered Steph. ‘You have to use this cock-up as an opportunity to shoot for the gastronomic heights you know you’re capable of. Your unbridled enthusiasm for all things food-related is an integral part of who you are. I’ve tasted the results of your experiments and they would put Nigella to shame. You’re a genius! You can’t allow a poor excuse for a chef turned food critic to destroy your life. I, for one, won’t let you. I’ve never understood why you’ve waited so long to exploit your talents.’

‘Steph…’ Hollie gaped at her friend who, while renowned for her straight-talking, had never been so forceful. It was as though she was making her final submissions to a judge in one of her viciously contested divorce hearings.

‘No, Hollie, it’s okay. Baking is more than a professional passion. It’s my raison d’être. Jess and I grew up in a home filled with food and a plethora of exotic recipes. Every time I stumble on an unusual recipe or a new ingredient my spirits soar. I know it sounds ridiculous, but when I marry herbs and spices, I feel like an alchemist creating a little piece of magic. Perhaps now is the time to stop talking and take action!’

Lucie slipped down from her bar stool and looked her friends in the eye as excitement began to bubble into her chest. It was a fabulous feeling.

‘Steph’s right. I should turn this disaster into an opportunity. Running my own business is what I’ve been planning since I first held a wooden spoon. Why did I work so hard in the kitchens at Le Cordon Bleu if I didn’t intend to squeeze out every last drop of knowledge and hone my natural flair for creating desserts? Why did I slave twelve-hour days in that Parisian hotel absorbing everything there was to learn about French patisserie? Why did I spend a whole summer in a cramped, over-heated kitchen in a Cretan tourist resort learning the intricacies of authentic Greek pastries? I love Gino and Antonio, but why have I been wasting my time in a tiny trattoria to gain an insight into the mysteries of Italian confectionery?’

‘I rest my case,’ smiled Steph, stepping forward to hug her.

‘I really, really want to start my own cocktail cupcake business – well, every kind of cupcakes, actually. I’ve got loads of other ideas – Liquorice Allsorts, Sherbet Lemons, even Fab! Ice Lollies, remember them? I think I can make it a success. But, Steph, there’s one thing you’ve forgotten. I don’t have a job. I haven’t got a handy slush fund to splash out on such extravagant dreams at the moment, and after all this social media notoriety, there’s no way any bank would lend me a penny!’

‘Listen, Lucie. I have an idea. It’s not that Hollie and I don’t love having you stay with us, but why don’t you go to Richmond and stay with Jess and the boys for a few weeks until the furore dies down? Reconnect with your family and with reality. This little storm in a teacup won’t seem half as serious from the outside. A lot has happened to you in a short space of time. It’s no wonder you had a meltdown. But every storm passes, every Twitter star fades and everyone can recover from a broken heart with the love and support of their loved ones.’

Lucie stared at her friend, her brain whirring through the possibilities of what she was suggesting.

‘Yes! That’s exactly what I’ll do! Thanks, Steph. Watch this space, girls! Lucie Bradshaw is about to unleash her culinary talents on the world!’