Page 22 of Baking Battles

“Christopher.” She says slowly. Yes, she is dragging it out on purpose, her smug smile totally obvious. “One of Danijel’s crew, has hung around our house like a bad smell since forever. Total charmer, the little shit. Has my Mum wrapped so tightly around his little finger that she has probably added him on the list of possible people that she thinks I should let my daughters marry. It’s that bad Mattias.”

“Did we hang around with him?”

“Well, he was always around, don’t you remember? Maybe he was a bit more scruffy and spotty looking than he is these days, but I mean, he’s still always around. What exactly are you asking, Mattias?”

Like she doesn’t know, with that little smile still on her lips, and her arms crossed over her chest.

“I like him.” He says. Well, it’s time to haul out the truths, because since he apparently is liberally spraying his private life around the office, he may as well. And he knows Alima well enough to know that lying will get him nowhere.

“I like him too. He’s a genuinely nice guy, and has done really well for himself. He’s really good with kids and can cook a mean couscous. And you know how picky I am about my cous cous.”

“Alima” Mattias whines.

“Mattias.” She replies, her tone low and stern. “You will have to sort this one out yourself, because I am not doing your dirty work, however much I am dying to knock your skull into that other thick one of Christopher's. This is not my business and not my fallout.”

“Then what do I do? Alima?” he whines.

She just winks as Mattias’s phone lights up with a tirade of messages.

SARA: Just reminding you the new last pickup time is 17.30 at day care. I have left clothes under the pram as she now wears size 2-3 in case you haven’t bought her new trousers. Last week you sent her to nursery in stuff that was labelled 9-12 months.

Nice. Passive-aggressive again, reminding him that he is useless and pathetic.

MATTIAS: Thank you. I do have a wardrobe full of well-fitting clothes for our daughter, and have donated anything outgrown to the recent day care charity-drive. I will remember to pick Emi up on time. Enjoy your weekend away.

SARA: You do remember that you have no day care for Emilia tomorrow? I trust you have made arrangements?

MATTIAS: I am a fully functioning human being, Sara.

He’s not. Obviously.

“Alima,” he hisses, and takes a few steps running after her down the corridor towards the canteen.

“Yes, Mattias?”

“Can your mum have Emi tomorrow?”

“No, babes, she’s working, but since I am getting my arse kicked off this show this afternoon, I will happily take Emi to playgroup at the Mosque. Chill Mattias.”

“If you get kicked off this show, I will eat my own weight in that Cloudberry Multekrem of yours. You are going nowhere. If anyone is getting kicked off it will be me.”

“Mattias, you are an idiot.”

“And you, babes, are pretty amazing.”

“I know.” Alima muses. “Try telling that to the jerk who calls himself my brother.”

Christopher looks happy for the first time just before four o’clock when they finally film the Battle Baker segment, crowning Alima the winner of Episode 2. Which makes her preen and squirm in equal measures, wearing some pink disaster of a festive jumper, and Mattias might be cheering a little too loudly, and Danijel is walking around in circles, scratching his head. It’s taken days to film just two episodes, and they still have at least a few days of fillers and retakes to perfect. Danijel looks exhausted, and Mattias can barely stand up himself.

“She’s good, Danijel.” Mattias mutters in his ear whilst they set up for the last segment where the person leaving the show will be announced. Magnus looks grim, having messed up his Christmas Roulade, his meringue tough and listless after having had no whisk. His cream too stiff and his berry glaze a mess. Jacob is quiet and resigned, his Fruitcake having broken apart on his driftwood platter, and Louise is looking tearful over the harsh criticism of her Goat’s Cheese Cheesecake, and Paulina is quite literally shaking like her own perfect Crème Brûlée. Pablo is the only one who is calm having somehow pulled off a traditional baked old-fashioned cheese curd dessert, accompanied by a trio of rainbow-coloured jams. But it’s Siv-Linda who breaks down in tears, falling listlessly into Ida’s over-sympathetic embrace, before Herman has even spoken her name, and Mattias, for once, feels sorry for her. She had done well with her Vegan nut and date dessert, even though Isolde said it tasted like dust, Herman refused to try it, and Mattias had kept his eyes on Christopher as he spat his mouthful out in a napkin.

And Mattias sighs loudly, throwing his arms up in despair as Danijel demands they film it again. He needs to go. He has told Danijel he needs to go. Caroline knows he will be walking out the studio doors at five o'clock, on the dot. He doesn’t care if they are in the middle of filming. He is going to go get his baby from day care on time. Because, to be honest, everything else can wait.

He knows he is being filmed as he walks out, mid-filming. He knows, seeing Danijel’s smug grin, that the footage they are getting of him walking off the set will be angled and twisted and used to show him throwing some kind of irrational tantrum. It will make fantastic TV, and somewhere in his messed-up brain he can see the trailer for the series, featuring his sorry self, making a spectacle of his professional image.

He still throws his coat over his shoulders and runs. Because, the love of his life is waiting for him, and the little madam does not like to be kept waiting.

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