Page 39 of The Cornish Cream Tea Holiday
‘Because Ben makes a big show of being nonplussed about most things, but it’s a defence mechanism. This competition, though, he’s definitely bothered about, but I think if he comes last, he’ll shrug it off. Then he’ll go back to his house and angrily saw some wood.’ Finn turned to Thea. ‘You like him, don’t you?’
‘We’re friends,’ she said quickly. ‘As much as you can be with someone you only met a few days ago. But after last night … I’m really grateful to all of you – you, Meredith and Ben – for letting me attach myself to you.’
‘You’re not a stray orphan in need of adopting,’ Finn said, then looked horrified. ‘Unless—’
Thea laughed. ‘No, my parents are still alive, but you’re much more fun to hang out with. In the case of my mum, you’re much calmer, too.’
Presley Rushwood, Thea’s mum, waltzed through the world expecting everyone to pay attention to her, entirely confident that she was worth the spotlight. She was a publicist for a cosmetics company in London, but spent an equal amount of time promoting herself to whoever seemed influential at the time. Thea’s introversions andinsecurities partly came from not wanting to be like her, for resisting when Presley had tried to mould her in her own image.
‘I’m calmer than your mum?’ Finn raised an eyebrow.
‘So far,’ Thea said, and Finn laughed.
‘I know a little about overbearing mothers,’ he said softly, then, before he could say anything else, their attention was dragged back to the competition, because one of the competi-tor’s barbecues had tipped over, spilling coals onto the sand, and there were cries of alarm from the audience. He rescued his chicken thighs just in time, but Adrian made the most of the drama, ramping up his patter like a commentator at the end of a horse race.
Through it all, Ben remained focused, though at one point he glanced up and caught Thea’s eye. She smiled encouragingly, and he returned it, the simple gesture tugging at something deep inside her. It was a disconcerting feeling, and she chose to put it down to mild heatstroke.
Meredith returned with her friend Anisha, a polished, put-together woman whose large dark eyes were warm and intelligent, and who greeted Thea enthusiastically. She explained that her parents had taken her children back to their house, because they were full of ice cream and getting fractious. She smiled and waved at Nick, distracting him from the incredibly serious job of walking along the line of chefs, inspecting the food they were about to eat.
‘He’s trying to be like Paul Hollywood,’ Anisha said. ‘But he doesn’t have it in him. He’s far too nice.’
‘He’ll give everything a nine or ten,’ Meredith added. ‘Eight and a half for the inedible ones.’
Anisha laughed. ‘Handshakes all round from my husband.’
‘Hopefully he’ll give Ben a ten,’ Thea said. ‘If – is he even allowed to judge Ben, if they know each other?’
‘Everyone in Port Karadow knows everyone else,’ Finn said. ‘The only one who’s new enough not to be influenced is Marcus Bellend, or whatever his name is.’
They all laughed, and got a sharp look from Adrian, who was gearing up for the five-minute countdown.
When the cooking time was up, there was a long period while the judges tasted every dish in turn, the crowd straining to get a good look at each one and – if they were anything like Thea – wishing they could try them all, too. There was a lot of deliberating while the competitors stood in their line, looking like naughty schoolchildren ready for a telling-off, and Thea saw Ben rub a hand across the back of his neck.
‘Wonderful, wonderful,’ Adrian said eventually, coming to stand in front of the crowd, clutching a piece of paper. ‘I have the results! Congratulations, all of you, on an incredibly high standard of barbecuing. I’ve tasted a few, and I can safely say you’d all be invited to cater my summer party. The judges were very impressed, and it was hard to narrow it down to a top three, but theyhavemade a decision. So, without further ado, here’s the moment you’ve all been waiting for. In third place, we have Melvin Nungent, with his Cornish mixed grill. Wonderful effort, Melvin!’ The man, who looked to be in his early twenties, greeted Adrian against a soundtrack of rapturous applause, collecting a trophy that looked plastic, and an envelope that Meredith whispered to Thea contained a voucher for the Happy Shack.
‘Now, on to second place. It was a close-run thing between the top two, but as runner-up in the competition we’re very happy to have the man of mystery himself, Ben Senhouse, with his beef ribs and hot sauce. Congratulations, Ben! Those potato rösti were something special.’
Thea watched Ben’s expression go from tense to surprised, and then, when he stepped forward, into a wall of enthusiastic clapping, he was smiling. Thea applauded harder than anyone.
‘Thanks,’ Ben said to Adrian, collecting his trophy and envelope, posing with the judges for the local press photographer. When he was done, instead of returning to his barbecue, he came over to them.
‘Well done my man,’ Finn murmured, patting him on the back.
‘Amazing!’ Meredith hugged him, followed by Anisha.
Ben turned to Thea, and she tuned out Adrian’s voice, feeling only slightly guilty that she wasn’t paying attention to the winner.
‘You were brilliant,’ she whispered, wondering if she should hug him, too. She smiled, self-conscious, as Ben stepped closer and put his arms around her, making the decision for her, and she threaded her fingers behind his neck. He was much hotter than her, his nape damp with sweat, and he smelled of charcoal and beef and some cologne that was rich with spice and vanilla. Thea was slightly overcome by the assault on her senses.
‘Ribs was the right call,’ he murmured into her ear. ‘Thank you.’
‘I didn’t do anything,’ she said, laughing. ‘It was all you. Congratulations, Ben.’
They broke apart to cheer the winner, a woman called Sally Bailey, who had made a fish feast of lobster, prawns, scallops and whitebait.
Adrian closed the competition with as much enthusiasm as he’d opened it, and the crowd and competitors began to disperse. Anisha joined Nick, and Ben went to clear up his workstation. Thea, Meredith and Finn followed him, as if they were band groupies with a new frontman to adore.
‘What’s this?!’ Thea squeaked when she saw Ben’s barbecue, which, far from being empty, had another rack of ribs on it, and a whole pile of golden potato rösti.
