The Cotswolds Cookery Club: A Taste of France - Book 3

‘Poo,’ piped up Milo.

‘Well, apart from that, obviously.’

With the exception of Mia tipping a packet of flour over the rocking horse in a bid to turn him white, the making of the cupcakes passed with minimal drama, and resulted in a humongous pile of washing-up. Kate couldn’t face it. As the children began bickering, she deemed it time to take them out. With a view to dropping off the cakes, she sent a text to Melody asking if they could call round. It being such a beautiful, unseasonably warm day, Melody insisted they come for the afternoon and make use of her outdoor swimming pool. A prospect which made the kids completely hyper. By the time Kate had prevented Milo from diving down the stairs, rescued Mia, who’d been hanging upside down on the rocking horse, dug out everyone’s swimming gear, bundled them into the car, got halfway down the road then realised she’d forgotten the cakes, turned back for the cakes, then set off again, they bowled up at Melody’s abode half an hour later than planned, to find Connie there with Eric the greyhound, and Trish with her teenage daughter, Amber.

‘What a lovely surprise,’ she exclaimed, as the twins charged towards Amber, and Jemima made a beeline for Eric, on the terrace with Melody’s Jack Russell, Tilly.

‘Malcolm’s on a corporate hospitality thing,’ Melody explained. ‘So I thought we should make the most of this gorgeous weather. After all, we won’t have many more days like this before the year’s out.’

‘Good thinking,’ agreed Kate. ‘Winter will be here before you know it.’

‘Ugh, cold mornings and dark nights,’ said Connie with a shudder.

‘You should shut up shop and move to Spain for the winter. Stay with Eleanor and my dad,’ chuckled Kate.

‘Now there’s an idea. How’re they getting on?’

‘Great, as far as I can tell. Although I think they’ve struggled with the heat.’

‘I have no sympathy at all.’

‘Me neither,’ agreed Kate. ‘On a freezing day in July when it’s chucking down with rain, the last thing you want to hear is someone in Spain grumbling about how hot it is. Not that I could cope with Spanish temperatures. I much prefer the south of France. The weather there is perfect. As are most other things. But, before I depress myself too much thinking about my ideal life, going back to my less-than-ideal one, I wanted to thank you all for the other evening. I know my house is never a good venue for the cookery club, but me being semi-comatose didn’t help at all.’

‘Your house is great fun,’ said Melody.

Kate rolled her eyes. ‘I wish. It’s a nightmare. And completely exhausting. But it was wonderful having you lot there and not having to lift a finger. And even more wonderful having a decent night’s sleep. I really appreciate the trouble you all went to. And… to show my appreciation, Jemima and I made these.’ She snapped the lid off the plastic box to reveal six rows of misshapen cupcakes – some sprinkled with chocolate, others dotted with jelly tots, one with a bite out, and a couple with holes from exploring fingers.

‘They look great,’ giggled Melody. ‘Gold star to Jemima. Does this mean we’ll be signing her up for the cookery club soon?’

‘Possibly. For no other reason than giving her a break from the twins. The poor thing is completely overshadowed by them.’

‘Bless her,’ said Melody, as they all turned to watch Jemima gently stroking the dogs. And then turned to the twins, who were beside themselves with laugher as Amber swung Mia around by the arms. ‘I can see how that would happen. The twins do attract a lot of attention.’

‘Mostly for the wrong reasons,’ pointed out Kate.

‘I know,’ piped up Melody. ‘How about we have a little cookery club just for Jemima? Here, now? I’d planned on throwing a few sausages and burgers on the barbecue, but I’m sure we can think of something more exciting to go with them.’

‘Like crepes,’ suggested Kate. ‘They’re in keeping with our French theme and Jemima loves them.’

‘Brilliant idea. I have a gorgeous recipe for banana pancakes with chocolate sauce,’ said Trish. ‘I often rattle up a couple for Amber as a treat.’

‘Ooh, they sound gorgeous,’ said Connie. ‘And we could make some nice salads. Jemima can mix the dressings.’

‘Ooh. She’s going to love it,’ said Kate, beaming at her friends. ‘Let me go and tell her.’

Kate hated to admit it, but it had been a long time since she’d seen Jemima so happy. Her little face had lit up brighter than Blackpool when she’d been informed of the impromptu cookery club to be held in her honour. And while the twins, wedged into armbands and inflatable rings, splashed about in the pool with Amber, their older sibling revelled in the attention in Melody’s kitchen. In her little spotted swimsuit she sprinkled parmesan over golden barbecued corn, and stirred together mayonnaise, vinegar, mustard and salt and pepper for the potato salad dressing. On a part-sliced crusty white baton, she smeared garlic butter mixed with pesto and basil, then wrapped the bread in foil ready for the barbecue. With a pastry brush, she coated hot dogs in a sweet and sour glaze before they were whipped off to be grilled. And she threaded halloumi, yellow peppers, courgettes and cherry tomatoes onto skewers, before chucking some shallots, capers, olive oil, garlic and a handful of herbs into the food processor to make a dressing for the kebabs.