Page 2 of Confetti and Confusion

‘Take care when slicing the oranges,’ cautioned Ella.

‘Yes, Immie darling, we don’t want the bride trussed up in bandages on her wedding day, do we? Not exactly the must-have accessory for the theme I have planned for the wedding,’ said Julia, who had reluctantly swapped her Italian-designed cropped jacket for one of Claudia’s signature pale-lemon aprons. With her towering stilettos, her whole ensemble screamed the sartorial equivalent of “look at me”! Yet her intensely groomed caramel bob had already succumbed to the ambient humidity, and her early morning visit to the hotel’s hairdressers had turned out to be a pointless exercise. ‘Never mind spoiling the photographs!’

‘Oh, Mum! I wish you’d relax over the whole “attention-to-detail” thing you have going on. We’re supposed to be enjoying ourselves, not stressing over the wedding arrangements. We have a wedding planner to do all that.’

‘But she’s useless. She was over an hour late for our appointment yesterday morning and when she did eventually turn up, she’d forgotten to bring the floral samples with her. And would you believe that when I asked about the butterflies she looked at me as though I was crazy. I bet she hasn’t even ordered them. Honestly, Imogen, I don’t know what we are paying her for. I really think we should—’

‘Mum, I keep telling you, Alex and I just want a laid-back wedding day, surrounded by the people we love in a relaxed and stress-free atmosphere. I definitely won’t be devastated if we don’t get to release a kaleidoscope of butterflies into the sky after we’ve exchanged our vows, or if the confetti doesn’t have our picture printed on it. In fact, why can’t we have rice? That’s what I wanted in the first place.’

‘That’s what peasants do at weddings!’ shot back Julia, combing her fingers through her straw-like hair.

‘No it’s not,’ laughed Imogen, tossing jagged lumps of orange peel into the jam pan that was on the hob she shared with her mother whose own fruit segments were perfectly sliced. ‘I really don’t understand why we couldn’t have had a quiet country wedding at home. I loved the idea of the village fête theme Karen suggested.’ Imogen smiled at her sister who was concentrating on showing Gracie how to grate her chocolate without also grating her fingers. ‘Hoopla, juggling, guess how many sweets in the jar, a huge meringue-like marquee, pastel bunting floating in the breeze. I think our friends would have loved that!’

‘Don’t be facetious, dear. It doesn’t suit you.’

Millie left the bride’s family to their obviously well-rehearsed argument and moved on to the adjacent marble-topped workstation where Imogen’s two bridesmaids were attempting a version of Ella’s chilli-chocolate brownie recipe. A giggle, followed by a very unladylike snort of laughter, erupted from Carla as she tried to conceal the fact that her cheeks were bulging like an over-zealous hamster, obviously having started early on the taste-testing part of the day. Not to be outdone, Harriet was squirting chocolate buttercream into her mouth from a piping bag. Every spare inch of their countertop was scattered with culinary debris – splodges of butter, snail trails of powdered sugar and dots of melted chocolate, not to mention the jumble of discarded implements in the sink.

Millie smiled. She was the last person to chastise anyone for making a mess in the kitchen, having been told on more than one occasion that she could bring chaos to an empty room by many a friend and colleague, and more recently by Zach Barker.

Her spirits edged up a notch further when she thought of Claudia and Tim Croft’s prickly estate manager whom she had crossed spatulas with when she arrived at the villa two weeks ago. From a difficult start, when she had mistakenly thought Zach was the gardener rather than their highly qualified estate manager on secondment from their country manor house in the UK, they had gone on to form an unexpected friendship. In the space of a few days, he had achieved what her friend Pippa back home in London had failed to do in six months – forced her to put her disastrous relationship history into perspective.

So what if Luke had ditched her at their engagement party, in front of all their friends and family, and ran off into the sunset with her best friend’s mother? That was his decision and there was nothing she could do about it. No amount of tears and painful soul-searching would change the situation, or lessen the embarrassment.

With his special brand of sarcastic wit, Zach had helped her to face the demons that had taken up residence in her mind and serve them with an eviction notice. They hadn’t left yet, but they had packed their bags and ordered a taxi. She was even starting to come to terms with the fact that Luke and Donna were expecting their first child in a few months’ time.

Satisfied that Carla and Harriet had everything under control, Millie sauntered back to the demonstration bench. She allowed her thoughts to linger briefly on the previous day when she and Zach had shared a kiss beneath the palm trees and a pleasurable swirl of desire meandered through her veins.

However, mingled with the undoubted pull of attraction was a nugget of uncertainty. Did she really want a holiday fling? Even if it was with someone who made every one of her senses zing with excitement and anticipation whenever they were together? Because, sadly, that was all it could be – at the end of her brief sojourn in paradise, she would return to her life in London, return to her job at Café Étienne, and it was unlikely they would see each other again.

An enticing fragrance of warm sugar and chocolatey sponge cake floated towards Millie’s nostrils, dragging her back to the present.

‘Okay, everyone, time for that part of the day I know you have all been waiting for.’ Millie cast a smile in the direction of Carla who was busy photographing everyone’s masterpieces with her beloved Pentax camera. ‘Let’s taste our creations!’

She arranged the products of the group’s labour on four huge china platters decorated with Claudia’s signature logos. The first showcased a perfect selection of the patisserie she had made that morning, along with the miniature chocolate-orange roulades covered with chocolate ganache and the chilli-chocolate brownies baked by Ella. The second plate held the cakes made by Imogen and Julia, the third by Karen and Gracie, and the last one was piled high with the offerings belonging to Harriet and Carla.

‘Well done, everyone. These all look absolutely amazing!’ declared Ella, her mahogany eyes sparkling with pride.

‘You’re too kind,’ Harriet laughed. ‘My roulades look like a steamroller has reversed over them! I’m not sure I actuallywantto eat them.’

‘You’re right – we do initially taste with our eyes. But in my opinion, the most important part of any bake is its aroma and its taste. Don’t forget – theChocolate & Confetticourse is not a competition. It’s an opportunity for you to learn new skills and improve on old ones. By the end of the week – when we will be tackling chocolate eclairs and profiteroles – I promise you’ll be making patisserie fit to grace any Parisian store.’

‘I wouldn’t bet on it,’ murmured Carla, eyeing her caramelized madeleines with disdain.

‘Okay. Let’s dig in!’

‘Mmm. Gracie, darling, your chilli-chocolate brownies are simply delicious,’ said Karen, holding her hand under her chin to catch any crumbs, smiling widely at her daughter.

‘Thanks, Mum. I think these biscuits are the best, though.’

Amid the cacophony of animated conversation, coupled with the soft strains of calypso music emanating from the radio on a bench in the corner and the ever-present backing track of the cicadas, everyone in the hen party indulged in their favourite past-time – eating chocolate in all its guises.

‘Oh my God, Millie. These have got to bethemost delicious chocolate tortes I’ve ever tasted!’ declared Imogen, reaching for a second and trying to stuff it into her mouth whole.

‘A little decorum, darling!’

‘This is the best hen week ever,’ continued Imogen, ignoring her mother’s chastisement. ‘Who else gets to indulge their love of all things cocoa-relatedandfeast their eyes on that magnificent view at the same time?’

The women gravitated to the sun-bleached wraparound veranda overlooking the Soufrière bay. Millie took a moment to appreciate the most spectacular example of nature’s artwork. To their left, the Gros Piton and Petit Piton mountains rose from the Caribbean Sea like the spikes of a slumbering dinosaur, their peaks melting into a soft eiderdown of cloud, their emerald interiors seemingly replete with legends, fairy tales and pirate stories. All this verdant beauty was set against the deep sapphire of the ocean, its surface dotted with tiny flecks of multi-coloured sails, cruise ships laden with tourists, and cargo ships trailing a ripple of cappuccino froth in their wake.

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