Page 7 of The Wedding Cake
“As I always say, if anybody would prefer a special herbal infusion, just shout!”
“I can’t speak for myself,” said Mervyn, knitting his brow. “But you really are quite a puzzle, Hannah, throwing that line in every time I bring my clients here. Pure caffeine is just fine. Nobody wants any of that murky witch’s brew,” he scoffed.
Sheesh, to borrow that annoying word of River’s from moments ago. Alice couldn’t see any harm in Hannah’s innocent and thoughtful query.
“Merv!” Freya admonished. “It was good of Hannah to offer up an alternative. Some people prefer non-caffeinated drinks. Alice and River, are you happy with your bog-standard tea and coffee?”
“Perfect as we are, but thanks for asking,” Alice answered for both of them. Whilst they hailed from Glastonbury, the town of all things alternative, Alice and River couldn’t bear herbal tea.
Hannah skulked back towards the cakery and Alice’s heart went with her. What a sod Mervyn was to talk to her like that. Maybe he’d been sinking the sherries before they’d met him. Hannah peered over her shoulder then, and if Alice wasn’t imagining things, the assistant’s eyes appeared to glimmer. Alice looked again to be sure, but Hannah had turned away. Ah, well. Perhaps it was just the effect of the copious illuminations, the sherry from earlier, and all the cake excitement.
Freya tentatively recapped on the pricing and Alice could hardly believe the updated and carefree version of River sitting next to her. He happily signed the paperwork along with Alice and Mervyn, and the deposit was paid. Not before some orgasmic sounds were made around the table. Alice supposed Freya was used to them by now but it was a bit embarrassing given they were coming from Mervyn as well.
The base cake layer – and the biggest in terms of circumference – would be salted caramel. Freya had placed the crystal plate loaded with that flavour in the centre of the table.
“Only the very best dulce de leche caramel – a secret recipe from South America – goes in this,” Freya told them as she nudged the plate closer to Alice and River and gestured for them to help themselves.
Alice couldn’t wait to dive in and was more amused than irritated to see Mervyn had beaten her and River to it. But then who could blame him, if this was the fusion of flavours he got every time he chaperoned his clients? Within seconds Alice felt as blissed out as the sultry rabbit cartoon character who used to appear in the Cadbury’s Caramel commercials. She flicked her gaze to River and stifled a laugh at the look of ecstasy on his face. Their guests would be rendered speechless over this all-important foundation of the construction. As would the Spanish villagers.
Next Freya wowed them with the Victoria sandwich tier. Alice honestly thought she’d died and gone to heaven. Growing up in a quintessentially English village, she had tasted many a Vicky sponge in the village hall and at the country house tables of her horsey friends, but nothing would ever again compare to FOM’s version.
“I always use Asturias butter from the north of Spain,” Freya explained. “If you’ve ever been to that area and you’ve seen the lush, green grass the cows eat, you’ll understand why the sponge and the buttercream taste so sublime.”
“We’ll have to take a detour that way with Twinkle on the way back to the port after the honeymoon.” River smiled.
A quick swig of tea cleansed everybody’s palates and Mervyn wasted no time in pilfering a cube of the red velvet sponge next.
Freya assured them she only ever worked with the traditional recipe for red velvet cake, sourcing her anthocyanin cocoa – which gave the cake its colour – from the best supplier. The shade of the crumb was the proof of the pudding. The sponge was a deep, delectable scarlet; its thick smothering of cream cheese frosting was a bold contrast.
Finally, Freya offered the lemon curd and passionfruit sponge to Alice and River, before Mervyn could get his mitts on it. The wonderful smell and taste of lemon was enough to overpower the orange trees in the square outside.
“Okay, you can certainly bake, Freya,” said River and everybody laughed.
Couldn’t she just? Alice wasn’t cake obsessed. She had a steely dietary willpower most human beings would crave almost as much as sugar cubes. But equally, when circumstance dictated, she was rather partial to a sweet treat, and, having been in a relatively successful band, naturally she’d had the opportunity to sample cake in many luxury destinations. Yet despite all those impressive morsels savoured around the world, she didn’t think anything could beat the delicious samples she’d devoured today. This cake would be the focal point of the wedding and the perfect gift to everyone they encountered on the road. How much tastier things had become since her dreary days as a bridesmaid, when it had been all glacé cherries, super sweet marzipan and stodgy icing.
“Thanks!” Freya replied. “But I really can’t take the credit. I have a brilliant team.”
A loud snore made them all jump and Freya’s face contorted as she gently nudged Mervyn out of his post-party slumber.
“Oh. I-I was just resting my eyes, that’s all. Right.” He sat bolt upright as if pulled up by invisible strings. “If we’re all done here then chippety-chop, off we pop.”
No, Alice and River hadn’t mistaken the cringeworthy catchphrase the first time around. Freya cleared her throat as if to avert their attention. Alice guessed this was another of Mervyn’s oddities she was accustomed to. Freya stood to shake their hands, took Mervyn under one wing and the ancient-looking order book full of their details under the other, leaving Alice and River to follow them through to the shop floor and back out into the orange tree square.
“You were right, and I will never doubt you again,” said River with a gigantic smile. “This is going to be the best wedding ever – and we deserve to have our cake and eat it.”
TIM
Tim couldn’t believe it. Piper had booked the visit to the destination wedding planner in Spain without consulting him! It wasn’t that he didn’t fancy the idea of them exchanging their vows in the sun. It sounded perfect on the surface. But it wasn’t so ideal that he’d had to rearrange all his fitness classes for the coming week, so he and Piper could flit about to supplier appointments. He hated messing with his clients. It wasn’t in his nature, especially when it had taken him so long to build up a loyal tribe. Why did they have to travel overseas for their big day at all? It would be far from ideal for his mam who was in a wheelchair, or for his dad who suffered from travel sickness. There were plenty of impressive locations closer to home which would have made the logistics easier for both his and Piper’s families – not to mention his friends. Nath, Josh and Kyle had been Tim’s best mates since primary school and none of them were what you would call flush. Piper could more than afford to foot the bill for anybody struggling to finance their hotel and travel, of course. She could probably even put out some feelers with her contacts in hospitality to bag them a free hotel room. But nobody wanted to find themselves in such a humiliating predicament, did they?
Still, as the limo pulled up outside their hip and trendy hotel in Puerto Banus, the affluent harbour-side resort that merged into Marbella, he had to put all of those worries to one side for the moment and acknowledge his better half’s stroke of genius. Not on account of the fancy building awaiting them, but because of the weather. February in Spain was a whole world away from February in Northern England. Hello blue skies and almost T-shirt temperatures. Hello morning runs that didn’t chill you to the extremities. Tim might even hire a paddle board and hit the Mediterranean’s sparkling turquoise waves while he was here. It would be good to infuse a little variety into his daily workout, in the absence of any visible trampolines or bungees. He was sure he could pick up a wetsuit somewhere near the port.
He’d jetted off with Piper on a string of all expenses paid trips since they’d become an item, which meant he had stayed in a handful of luxury hotels. But for all of that, Tim never loved their bells and whistles. He was a simple man with simple tastes. Give him a no-frills B&B and a decent cooked breakfast any day. Alas, ever mindful of squeezing work opportunities into their forays, Piper had booked them into what could only be described as a juiced up ‘Instagram hotel’ for their wedding planning spree. After posing next to the reception desk’s giant gold pineapple for a flurry of pictures with their complementary mojitos, Tim and Piper were whisked away to an equally bling lift. This was encrusted with Swarovski crystals, and would naturally beg for myriad selfies as the days flew by.
“Ohemgee!” Piper squealed, abandoning her mammoth case and flinging open the door to their penthouse once Tim had generously tipped the porter so they could have a bit of privacy. “They really do have the actual Smeg fridges here!” As Tim hauled their joint luggage into the room, Piper darted to the kitchen area of their suite. A limited edition bottle of champagne was inside the fridge, its protective gold mesh twinkling next to a bowl of strawberries and what looked like a can of aerosol cream, leading him to wonder if the late Hugh Hefner had designed the interior. “I mean, I spotted the pics on Sophia and Talia’s Insta galleries a couple of weeks ago, but seeing it here in the flesh is just incredible,” Piper carried blithely on.
“I’m not being funny, Sweet P, but you could walk into any branch of Currys back in England to get your high-end white goods fix.” Overlooking the fact that this one was candy pink and the bottle inside it would probably cost as much as the fridge…
“Not even remotely the same.” Piper’s scowl belied the floral nickname Tim had given her once they’d officially become a couple. “Okay, no unpacking. I don’t have time to set up the light ring and tripod so I’m going to need you to get a few shots of me discovering the fridge for the first time. It’s not every day you come across this little peach, even in a luxury hotel.” Piper stroked the fridge as if it were a fluffy kitten.
