Page 16 of Cooking Up a Christmas Storm (Highland Cookery School #2)

‘Can I film you? Just your arms? I mean… I don’t…’

Pavel paused his whisking to stare at her for a second. ‘So you really do have a thing about forearms?’

He had definitely heard that then. ‘It’s to put online.’ That sounded worse. ‘Instagram. I’m going to film the stages of the recipe and make a reel.’

Pavel was biting back a smile. ‘Whatever you say.’

She recorded fifteen seconds of whisking, and put her phone down. ‘See. It’s for the ’gram. It’s work.’

Pavel didn’t reply.

‘It’s not for…’ There were no possible other uses for a video of Pavel’s forearms that didn’t make her embarrassment much, much worse.

‘How are you getting on?’ Bella asked. Never had an interruption been so welcome.

‘Fine,’ Jodie answered quickly. ‘We’re fine.’

‘She’s been filming me,’ Pavel added, his face entirely straight. ‘She wouldn’t tell me why.’

‘It’s for Insta…’

Finally he broke into a grin.

‘You know what it’s for!’

‘I know you’re probably not a meringue porn weirdo? Yeah.’

Eventually Pavel’s clearly superior upper-body workout routine got their egg whites to the much-lauded ‘stiff peak’ stage and Jodie was able to tip spoons of caster sugar in, one at a time, phone carefully angled over the bowl with her free hand, while Pavel continued to mix.

Bella explained that, as they were pushing the limits time-wise, they were going to make small individual-portion meringues today, but that the recipe would work as well to make a big showstopping pavlova.

They spooned their mixture into the neat circles Bella had marked up on greaseproof paper in advance.

‘Low heat for a long time is key for meringues,’ Bella told them.

‘Don’t be tempted to whack the heat up and cook them quicker.

Low and slow, and then time to cool. That’s why we’re getting these in first and then we’ll let them cool until right at the very end of the session.

The good news is that in real life you can make these days before.

They’ll keep for a couple of weeks in a sealed tub. ’

They moved on to slicing potatoes for twice-cooked chips.

‘I thought three-times cooked was all the rage?’ Middle-aged Strachan asked. ‘All that Heston Bloomin’ Thing business.’

Bella laughed. ‘You don’t want me getting all cheffy at you though, do you? This is proper home cooking. And parboiling and then frying is more than enough.’

Jodie made her excuses and left Pavel chopping away, and approached the Strachans’ bench. ‘Is it OK if I take some pictures of you? For our social media?’

Old Man Strachan grinned at her. ‘For your OnlyFans is it, pet? Like Pav’s big arms.’

So everyone had heard that? Brilliant.

His son and grandson almost dropped their paring knives. ‘How do you know about OnlyFans, Granddad?’ His face paled. ‘Actually don’t answer that.’

‘I keep up to date. Hugh was talking about it in the shop. His nephew’s lass works in forestry.’

The group were silent for a second, waiting to see how this story was going to work out.

‘Has fellers paying through the nose for videos of her taking her wellies off at the end of the day. They like it if she describes how things smell.’

Youngest Strachan recovered first. ‘OK. So Granddad does know what OnlyFans is.’

‘One chap offered her a diamond bracelet if she’d send him her dirty socks.’

Gemma would definitely step in and get things back on track now. ‘OK. Well no. This is for the cookery school social media. To promote the classes.’

Old Man Strachan nodded. ‘Makes sense. There’s probably not much call for old guys and potatoes.’ He looked up and grinned. ‘You take your pictures though, pet. Make sure you get my good side.’

The oldest Strachan was great fun. ‘Actually, can I ask a few questions? Like a student testimonial sort of thing.’

‘You can do what you like, love.’

‘Great.’ Jodie started by asking why he was taking the class.

He paused for a second. ‘Well, since my wife went, I’ve been at a bit of a loss. In my day lads weren’t expected to know their way around the kitchen. It’s not right though, is it? We’ve all got to eat.’

Jodie agreed, followed up with some questions about what they were making and then finished with, ‘And what would be your favourite thing to do with a sprout?’

Old Man Strachan winced. ‘Just stick it in the bin, love. Stick ’em all in the bin. Don’t even give ’em house space.’

Not exactly the ringing endorsement for sprouts she’d been searching for, but at least she had something.

Jodie repositioned herself to video the next part of Bella’s demonstration.

After parboiling the potatoes the plan was to deep-fat-fry them.

‘You can do oven chips though. For that you’d toss them in oil and spread them out on a baking tray with some salt.

Or you can do other seasonings if you want fancy seasoned chips. ’

The Strachans frowned as one. ‘Nobody wants fancy chips,’ Middle Strachan commented.

‘Aye,’ his son concurred. ‘Chips is chips.’

Jodie moved back over to Pavel’s station.

‘You never know.’ Bella smiled. ‘You might be entertaining someone with more adventurous tastes. Like I said, this is a great menu for a date night.’

A date night? Hey, Pavel, why don’t we try this together sometime?

The thought popped unbidden into her head.

No. No china-shop bull. Getting together with Pavel might be lots of fun, but she’d mess it up, and he was Bella and Adam’s friend so messing up with him would mean messing everything up.

Classic Jodie, when she was supposed to be being more Gemma.

It would just be one dinner though, her brain pointed out. One little dinner…

‘Gonna make this for the minister, ay, Pav?’

Pavel’s cheeks had turned slightly pink.

‘Maybe,’ he muttered.

‘So what’s going on there, lad? Gonna make an honest woman of her?’

‘What?’ Pavel’s face was static. Jodie scrutinised him for clues. He wasn’t giving her anything. ‘That’s jumping the gun a bit.’

The other men laughed. ‘Ah, you can’t be casual with a Reverend, lad,’ Oldest Strachan pointed out. ‘They operate on different rules.’

‘We’re just good friends.’

‘That’s not what your mam is saying.’

‘OK, everyone.’ Bella clapped her hands together for attention. ‘Shall we concentrate on the cookery and give Pavel a break?’

Oh, please, can we? Pavel sent up a silent prayer, and then caught himself.

Should he be praying for the teasing about Jill to stop?

She was the Big Guy’s representative around here after all.

He might have His own thoughts on Pavel’s attitude to their relationship.

Strachan was right about one thing. You couldn’t be casual with a minister of the church.

They ended the session by sharing a meal of the food they’d prepared, sitting together around the table in what Adam referred to as the small dining room.

‘We won’t do this every week,’ Bella explained. ‘Mostly we’ll make things for you to take home, but for this first session I thought it would be fun to eat together, because part of the joy of cooking is sharing the food with others. Food is a communal, a social experience.’

‘Oh sorry!’

Pavel started slightly as Gemma’s wine glass knocked against his shoulder and splashed a puddle of red wine onto his arm. She grabbed her napkin and started dabbing at the spreading red stain on his sleeve, pressing her hand against his arm.

‘Sorry. I’m so clumsy,’ she spluttered, and then seemed to pause. ‘I mean sometimes. It was an accident. Sorry.’

‘It’s fine. It’s just a spot.’ Most of Pavel’s clothes were covered in a layer of dust and grime from time on building sites. A spot of wine on his sleeve wasn’t going to trouble him.

Gemma moved away, placing her glass down next to her unfinished dessert. ‘I should go and see if Bella needs me to do anything.’

He watched her retreat. And it was a retreat, wasn’t it?

She’d left like a person who’d stood too close to something dangerous, not like a dutiful employee who had places to be.

Pavel took a sip of his water, and told himself he was imagining it.

Like he was imagining that his arm still tingled where she’d touched him.

Across the table, Strach stood up and swayed slightly.

‘How many have you had?’ Old Man Strachan asked.

‘Three or four.’

‘Oh.’ Old Man Strachan looked from his son to his grandson and then to his own empty glass. ‘We never said who was driving home, did we? Guess it’s a long walk back for us then.’

Pavel checked his watch. He’d promised his mum he’d be down at the pub in time to help with closing, but that would be fine. He could make it back to the village before chucking-out time. ‘Come on then,’ he said. ‘I’ll drive you.’

Three tipsy Strachans was a problem he could fix.

Jodie, Bella and Adam saw the students out, all full of steak and chips and pavlovas of varying degrees of messiness.

As they came back into the kitchen she retrieved her pudding from where she’d abandoned it in her haste to get away from the pure temptation of Pavel Stone’s ridiculously chiselled body.

That was all it was, right? The body. This feeling was pure – and entirely understandable – lust.

Which was very Jodie and, in the olden days, would have been very likely to lead to some very unwise life choices.

Fortunately, Gemma would never act on such a base instinct, especially not towards a man who was a) apparently not single, and b) not single WITH A VICAR.

Which was the most morally superior form of not single a person could be.

‘Thanks for your help today.’ Bella squeezed Jodie’s shoulder as she sat down next to her. ‘You were great.’

Jodie shook her head. She was not, and never had been, great at any job. Sometimes she managed to fake it well enough to get by for a few weeks, but ultimately she always messed up. ‘I didn’t do anything.’

‘No. You took loads of pictures, and you charmed the pants off the Strachans.’

Adam looked impressed. ‘Wow. Old Man Strachan’s a tough nut to crack.’