Читать книгу The Wedding Date - Jennifer Joyce, Kerry Barrett - Страница 17

Chapter 8

Kitchen Skills (or lack of)

Text Message:

Dad: Takeaway tonight – Indian, Chinese or pizza?

Delilah: I thought Mum left you instructions for making lasagne?

Dad: She did. And when she gets back from Aunty Liz’s we’ll tell her it was delicious but not nearly as good as hers

Delilah: Fair enough. Chinese then please

I haven’t spent much time in the development kitchen at Brinkley’s. I glimpsed inside it during my tour of the buildings on my first day but other than that it has never been a place I’ve been required – or permitted – to go to. The kitchen is stark with grey flooring and chrome appliances and worktops. The lack of natural light means the room is lit with headache-inducing strip lighting. The room is so uninspiring it’s hard to believe such delicious products are created here.

‘I’ve set aside a workspace for you over here.’ Karen, who works in development, points out the space at the far end of the kitchen. Neville arrived back from the brand-building conference full of ideas (and beer, judging by the lingering hangover) and, inspired by what he had learned, Neville has loosened the Brinkley purse strings and injected some much-needed cash into the firm’s social media efforts. One of Adam’s ideas was to set up a blog (yes, Brinkley’s really is in the dark ages when it comes to social media. Before Adam arrived in the office to rescue us from technological suicide, Brinkley’s didn’t even have a Twitter account) and Karen has agreed to give us a hand for the afternoon. We’re going to develop some recipes using Brinkley’s biscuits and post them onto the blog. Katey-Louise had originally wanted to play the role of glamorous assistant to Adam but she took one look at what she would have to wear to comply with health and safety rules and dropped out. So now I’m playing the not-so-glamorous assistant in my overalls and hairnet.

‘I printed out a lemon and ginger nut cheesecake recipe.’ Adam places the printout and a bag of ingredients on the stainless steel counter.

Karen gives it a quick glance and nods her head. ‘Looks easy enough. Delilah, why don’t you crush the biscuits while Adam melts the butter?’

Crushing the biscuits is a lot of fun, especially as I pretend the ginger nuts are Ben’s face.

‘I think that’s enough.’ Karen places a hand on my arm to stop me whacking the bag of biscuits with my rolling pin again. There would have been nothing but ginger nut dust if I’d been left to my own devices. ‘I always picture my ex-husband.’ Karen winks at me before she moves on with the recipe.

The next steps of the recipe aren’t as much fun as the biscuit bashing, but Adam, Karen and I have a lovely afternoon in the development kitchen. It’s nice to be away from the Brinkley crew for a couple of hours and the freedom allows me to enjoy myself. Adam and Karen are a laugh and we joke around as we make the cheesecake. Adam takes a few photos as we go along, which he’ll add to the blog and Instagram when we get back to the office.

‘And that’s it,’ Karen says once we’ve spooned the filling on top of the biscuit base and added a bit of lemon zest for decoration. ‘We’ll leave this in the fridge overnight and then it’ll be ready.’

‘That wasn’t so bad,’ Adam says. He looks relieved that we haven’t burned the kitchen down to rubble. ‘Have you got any other ideas of things we could make out of Brinkley’s biscuits?’

Karen pops our cheesecake into one of the fridges. ‘Rocky road bites would work really well and they’re so easy to make. We could also come up with a new ice cream flavour. That’s always fun. We could have a go now if you’ve got time?’

Using Brinkley’s shortcake biscuits and chopped up strawberries, we make a strawberry shortcake ice cream that smells divine. While the mixture is in the ice cream maker, we make a start on the rocky road bites.

‘I should make some of these with my nephews,’ Adam says, licking a splatter of melted chocolate from his wrist.

‘You have nephews?’ I don’t know that much about Adam. We’ve chatted in the office and here in the kitchen, but it’s been about our hobbies and film and TV and now food we like. I don’t know anything personal about Adam. Like if he has a girlfriend. Or a wife.

‘Two of them. Isaac and Luke.’ Adam’s face lights up as he says the names and I can tell he adores them. I half expect him to whip out his wallet and show me their photos.

‘How old are they?’ We haven’t finished making the ice cream yet but I decide to get a head start on the washing up, filling up the sink with hot soapy water. Karen has popped out of the kitchen for a breather, which I assume is a code word for a sneaky cigarette break.

‘Isaac’s four and Luke’s just turned three.’ Adam joins me at the sink with a tea towel once he’s placed the trays of rocky road into the fridge. ‘They can be a bit of a handful but they’re good kids.’

The conversation moves away from Adam’s nephews as we wash and dry the equipment we’ve used, moving back to the familiar ground of entertainment. Adam tells me about his favourite films, which are mostly action but with the odd comedy thrown in and I tell him about my love of musicals.

‘Which is your favourite?’ Adam asks as he places a clean, dry mixing bowl on the side. I take a moment to consider my options. It’s a tough choice as there are so many great ones to choose from.

‘I love the glamour of the older musicals like My Fair Lady and Singin’ In the Rain but I also love the fun of the newer ones and the revivals like Hairspray.’ I tilt my head to one side as I scrub at a particularly stubborn clump on a wooden spoon. ‘But I think my absolute favourite has to be Annie – the original – as it was the first one I watched. My grandma bought me the video one Christmas and I was hooked.’ I’m half tempted to break out into the chorus of “Tomorrow” but manage to restrain myself. ‘It makes me feel like a little girl again whenever I watch it.’

‘Wow.’ Adam takes the wooden spoon from me and wipes it dry. ‘You put a lot of thought into that.’ He’s grinning at me, so I’m pretty sure Adam is only teasing but my cheeks start to feel hot. Ben always said my love of musicals, and Annie in particular, was juvenile. Perhaps he was right.

‘I’m going to check on the ice cream.’ I dry my hands on a towel before switching off the ice cream maker and checking the consistency. I’m not entirely sure what we’re aiming for but it should be done about now so I pour the mixture into a large tub and pop it into the freezer.

‘This has been fun,’ Adam says when I return to the sink with the ice cream maker’s mixing bowl and paddle. ‘We should think of some more recipes to put on the blog. It beats being squeezed into the office.’

‘Don’t you like being squeezed up against Katey-Louise?’ I’m blatantly fishing to see if he fancies her and want to bite off my tongue as soon as the words are out of my mouth. The last thing I want is to make Adam think I fancy him. Because I don’t. Obviously.

Ok maybe a teeny bit, but only from afar. I can appreciate a gorgeous man without wanting to hop into the sack with him, can’t I?

‘She seems nice enough but she’s a bit young for me. How old is she? Twenty, twenty-one?’

‘Nineteen.’

Adam’s eyes widen. They’re a beautiful, rich brown framed by thick, dark lashes. I’m not paying particular attention to his eyes (or any other body part) but they’re hard to miss when they’re popping out.

‘Wow. Nineteen.’ Adam gives a sigh. ‘To be nineteen again.’

I can’t help but laugh at his serious tone. ‘You sound like you’re a pensioner. You’re still young. Relatively.’ I stick my tongue out at Adam and he whips me with his towel. ‘Seriously though, you’re what? Early thirties?’

‘Very early. Thirty-one.’

‘See. That’s barely out of your twenties.’ I finish washing the ice cream maker equipment and empty the water out of the washing up bowl. ‘There’s plenty of life left in you, I’m sure.’

‘I hope so.’

I grab a towel and help Adam to finish drying. Once everything is put away and we’ve wiped down the counters, we join Karen in a little room off the kitchen where she’s now sitting with a cup of tea.

‘All done?’ Karen asks. She’s sitting on the sofa with a magazine, her shoes kicked off to one side and her hairnet slung over the arm of the sofa. ‘Help yourself to a cup of tea or coffee. I wish I could offer you a biscuit but they’ve all been wolfed down.’ She surreptitiously swipes at a few crumbs on her white overalls.

‘Thanks but I should be getting back to the office.’ Adam holds up the camera he’s looped around his neck. ‘I need to get the photos and recipes uploaded on the blog. I’m hoping the cheesecake one will be ready to go live tomorrow.’

‘I’d better be getting back too.’ I’d have quite liked to sit and skive with a cup of tea for a few minutes, but it won’t look right if Adam returns without me. This is his project after all and I’m only assisting him.

‘Thanks for all your help,’ Adam says to Karen. Her eyes are firmly on her magazine and she doesn’t lift them as she raises a hand to wave goodbye.

‘No worries. Give me a shout if you need any more help in the kitchen.’

The development kitchen is only a short walk away from the Portakabin office but Adam and I take our time, stretching out the time we have left before we join the others as much as possible. This is it; our little project is pretty much at an end. Tomorrow Adam will take the ice cream and rocky road out of the fridge and freezer to take some more photos for the blog but he won’t need my help for that. So it’s back to the real world of work, which for me means plenty of filing, typing up letters and emails and answering the phone while pretending Katey-Louise isn’t fluttering around the place.

‘Any exciting plans for the weekend?’ Adam asks as we wander across to the Portakabin.

‘I have plans,’ I tell him. ‘But I’m not sure how exciting they’ll be. My friend’s a PE teacher so I’m going to watch his pupils take part in a five-a-side tournament.’ This is Lauren’s idea, and not because she wants to support Ryan. The five-a-side tournament is, apparently, the perfect place for me to meet a potential Wedding Date.

‘I want to take a grownup as my date, not a pubescent boy,’ I’d pointed out and Lauren had looked at me as though I was dense.

‘I’m not expecting you to date the players. I’m talking about the spectators, you doofus.’

So I’m going to be spending my Saturday morning on a muddy football pitch instead of hanging around the house in my PJs.

Joy.

‘How about you?’ I ask Adam. ‘Any plans, exciting or otherwise?’

‘I’ll be looking after my nephews.’ Adam reaches for the Portakabin door and holds it open for me. ‘I might even give the rocky road recipe a go with them.’

Hanging out with a couple of kids? Suddenly that muddy field seems a lot more alluring.