Page 27 of The Sunrise Sisterhood

‘It’s a deal. I’m not confident enough to make a cake without eggs.’

‘Cool. Remind me of the day you were thinking of?’

Ele named a date a couple of weeks away; Skye hoped it didn’t clash with anything else.

‘Just one more thing,’ the client added. ‘There will be twenty of us now, not six. It’s turned into a full-blown birthday party. Is that still OK?’

Skye told her that it was, although the price she’d given her for the cake had been based on six. She recommended a six-layered rainbow cake (thank goodness for her Pinterest obsession) which they could make for seventy-five pounds. At which point the customer squealed with excitement and confirmed the booking.

Skye was buzzing as she tried to work out the maths. It was a lot, she knew that much. Where was Clare when she needed her? My eldest is brilliant at maths, Mike had told her maths teacher at parents’ evening once.

‘I’ll send you an invoice within the next ten minutes,’ she said, making a note of Ele’s details in her phone. ‘And we’ll need a deposit to secure the booking.’

Skye could hardly contain her excitement as she finished up and clicked the padlock into place. At this rate, making twenty thousand pounds was going to be a breeze. She’d start by researching Indonesian food, then find a recipe for a vegan birthday cake …

All thoughts of slinking back to Exeter were now banished; she couldn’t wait to tell Liz the good news. Her dad was right to have recommended her for this job, she was clearly going to be absolutely brilliant at it. She smiled to herself as she set off at a pace to get back to Clemency House; it seemed like she was already taking Marta’s advice and having a little more belief in herself. And it felt good. Very good indeed.

Chapter Nine

Liz

‘May I help carry anything through?’ Patrick Delmarge asked from the kitchen doorway.

‘The tea tray is ready,’ Liz replied, running her eye over it to check she’d remembered the tongs for the sugar cubes which Patrick’s mother preferred. ‘If you wouldn’t mind taking that, I’ll bring the sandwiches.’

‘Right you are,’ said Patrick, lifting up the heavy tray with ease.

Liz picked up the Royal Albert cake stand, which she’d filled with crustless sandwiches and garnished with peppery watercress, and followed him through to the living room.

Patrick was her favourite sort of client. Even though this was his house, he let her take over the kitchen completely and never once got in her way. Some clients, by contrast, were forever coming and going and getting under her feet, which made her edgy and clumsy.

Two old ladies, as delicate as tiny birds, were sitting in armchairs at the curved picture window, which from its elevated position looked out over the estuary and across the water to Salcombe Harbour. They were identical twins with fine snowy hair, hazel eyes and sharp noses, but it was easy to tell them apart because Agatha wore a full face of make-up and Camilla ‘couldn’t bear the stuff’.

‘Oh hurrah!’ Agatha declared, clapping her hands together. ‘Teatime.’

Patrick put his tray down first and made space among the piles of books for Liz to set down the sandwiches. His mother, Camilla, laid down her copy of the parish newsletter and changed one pair of glasses for another.

‘What wonders have you brought us this week, Elizabeth?’ Camilla asked.

Liz had given up reminding Camilla and her sister that she preferred the shortened version of her name. It had been Elizabeth and Jennifer from the very first time that the Delmarge family had ordered afternoon tea three years ago.

‘Crab and chilli mayonnaise,’ she said, pointing to the top tier.

‘Local crab?’ Camilla asked.

Liz smiled. ‘Yes, Camilla. From Victor.’

He sold the best seafood in Salcombe – a secret locals kept to themselves.

‘Ooh lovely, you are spoiling us. Patrick, isn’t Elizabeth spoiling us today?’ Agatha said, poking her nephew’s leg as he took his seat between the two ladies.

‘She always spoils you, Auntie. We’re very lucky to have her.’ He caught Liz’s eye as he said it.

‘I’m lucky to have you,’ she replied, feeling herself blush.

Catering for the Delmarge family was the only regular job she’d continued with after Jen died. Patrick’s beautiful Edwardian home in East Portlemouth with its commanding views across Salcombe was a joy to visit, so much so that it was easy to forget that she was being paid to be here. Octogenarians, Agatha and Camilla lived in a residential home together, but Patrick fetched them out every Sunday after they’d had their lunch. Afternoon tea from The Seaside Gourmet Girls was their monthly treat; both ladies were very fond of their food.

‘We’ve also got beef and horseradish, ham and mustard,’ Liz continued, indicating the second tier.