Page 16
16. Charlie :
(Just call me Mary Berry)
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. I could totally win The Great British Bake Off .
Peering through the glass on the oven, the cupcakes were rising nicely. There was still another ten minutes on the timer, but I reckoned they’d be done before that. Any longer and the chocolate in the centre wouldn’t stay gooey.
And they needed to be gooey. Perfect, fluffy, gooey.
Yeah, I could totally win. These cupcakes would be my showstopper.
I opened the cupboard under the sink and got to work on cleaning up the kitchen. Since I was young, Dad had drilled it into me that a kitchen should be cleaned on the go. It was a cardinal rule in all his kitchens, and I’d witnessed more than once what happened when it wasn’t followed. I tried to run the kitchen in this place with the same regimental style, but it hadn’t worked.
The only person who paid any attention was, ironically, our cleaner, who was happy she had one less room to clean, mostly because Brooks’ room took her most of the day.
By the time the alarm beeped on the oven, I’d soaped and rinsed the counter and stove, reorganized the fridge, piled up the dishwasher with all the mixing bowls, along with the stove tops, and taken the bin bags out. The chocolate chips were back in the cupboard, and the frosting was set on the side ready to be piped out once the cupcakes had cooled enough.
I was in the process of laying them on the cooling rack when I heard the click of the front door. I thought I’d timed it so that both Oz and Brooks were out of the house while I’d been baking, because it would raise fewer questions. Plus, they usually argued over who got to lick the bowl and I didn’t have time for that today.
‘Oh my god, something smells amazing Charles,’ Brooks announced as he appeared in the kitchen archway, followed closely by Oz. ‘What culinary delights have you baked today?’
‘Cupcakes,’ I replied, slapping Brooks’ hand away as he reached for one. ‘They’re still hot. Just wait.’
His bottom lip protruded so dramatically I decided it wasn’t just Violet who’d inherited the theatrical gene in their family.
Oz slipped onto one of the large kitchen stools surrounding the island, and frowned. ‘Why’ve you made so many?’
This was exactly the type of question I didn’t want asked. Because I’d never made thirty cupcakes before. I’d never made cupcakes, period. But I did know that whatever I baked would have to include enough for the boys. They would get their portion, but two thirds of these babies – the best two thirds – were going elsewhere.
‘Because I need to take some for a project.’
‘What project?’
‘A work project.’
‘A work project that involves three dozen cupcakes?’
‘Mmm hmm.’ I turned away to find Brooks standing by the kettle as he peered into the bowl of frosting. I snatched it right before he stuck his finger in. ‘For fuck’s sake. Make the tea, I’ll make you a cupcake.’
He grinned wide. ‘You have yourself a deal.’
I glanced back to Oz who was rolling his eyes enough for the both of us. Standard Brooks behaviour.
I picked two of the worst looking cupcakes from the tray, though worst was the wrong word because they were all amazing. This frosting was going to slide right off without letting them cool properly, although knowing Brooks he’d probably inhale it before it got the chance.
Ripping off a sheet of baking parchment, I folded it into a cone, cut the end off and scooped in a dollop of the frosting. By the time Brooks had finishing making us all a cup of tea and taken a seat next to Oz, said frosting was neatly piped onto the top of the cupcakes like a little Mr Whippy.
I placed one in front of each of them, and I leaned back. Five seconds later and neither of them were touched. Brooks, in fact, was looking at his in a way that could only be described as suspicious.
‘What’s wrong?’
His mouth crooked as he looked at it. ‘The frosting, it’s purple.’
My chest tightened. ‘Yes?’
‘These aren’t vegetable cupcakes or some shit, are they? This isn’t beetroot frosting, is it? Because honestly, Charlie, beetroot tastes like dirt. I don’t want a dirt-tasting cupcake.’
I looked at Oz who was trying to hold in a smile, ‘First, no one’s forcing you to eat it. Second, no it’s not beetroot.’
‘Excellent.’ He lifted the cupcake to his mouth then stopped. ‘Wait, it’s not lavender is it? Because I’m not on board with that either.’
‘No, just plain old vanilla with some –’
Half the cupcake had been inhaled before I’d finished the end of the sentence.
‘Idsreallygoob.’
I picked up my tea and sipped it, hiding the smirk. ‘Thank you. And thank you for the tea.’
The second half of the cupcake disappeared, and Brooks washed it all down with a glug of tea, then peered longingly at the as yet untouched one sitting in front of Oz.
‘Are you going to eat that?’
‘Not right now,’ Oz replied.
‘Great.’ Brooks snatched up the cupcake then looked at me with a shake of his head. ‘Purple frosting. You really are hanging out with my sister too much, and now it’s affecting my snack times. Remind me when this thing is going to be over between you two?’
‘Um …’
‘At least can we have brown frosting next time?’ He held his hand up. ‘It’s all I’m asking.’
‘I’ll see what I can do,’ I replied, trying to ignore the squeezing in my chest, for the first time thankful that Brooks’ stomach always led the conversation.
Oz and I watched as the second cupcake vanished in less time than the first. Sometimes I wondered if Brooks even tasted his food or if it just got swallowed without touching the sides.
‘We should definitely have cupcakes more often in this house.’
I moved the remainder of the cooling tray out of his reach.
‘Hey, did you know it’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow?’
I nodded. Oz looked as startled as I had when Leo Tavener had announced it.
‘Shit. Tomorrow? Shit. I should send something to Kate. Do you think? I should. Shouldn’t I? That would be the right thing to do. So she knows I still love her. I’m still thinking about her, right?’ Oz’s head flicked from me to Brooks and back again. ‘Right? Yes?’
I nodded, one deep nod. Over the past few weeks Oz had been moving through the five stages of grief. I think we were currently in bargaining, and that was based on nothing but the fact that our morning training sessions on the river had been getting easier. The anger Oz had used to power us through the week before last seemed to have lessened.
I didn’t know whether sending her a Valentine’s gift would get her back, but I did know that if he kept pushing us at the rate he had been, we’d all collapse. Therefore, I would be encouraging anything that involved him doing something else.
‘Yes, mate. That’s a good idea.’
‘What d’you think would be good. What would work? What do girls like for Valentine’s?’
‘Can’t go wrong with flowers,’ answered Brooks, like he was an expert. Which he wasn’t seeing as he clearly hadn’t known Valentine’s Day was tomorrow, not to mention the fact that when we were sixteen he broke up with Annabel Caterham two days before Valentine’s so he could be single. And to my knowledge he’s never had a girlfriend on Valentine’s since.
Oz raked a hand through his hair. ‘Yeah. I could do flowers. Roses? Yeah, roses.’
Reaching for his phone currently plugged in on the counter, he hit speed dial. It only rang twice before it was picked up by a voice we all knew well.
‘Osbourne,’ answered Oliver Greenwood, also known as Olly, and the unofficial fourth member of this household. ‘What’s up?’
The four of us had all attended school together. Being in the same boarding house meant we were rarely apart but while Brooks, Oz and I had all taken the rowing path, Olly was a natural at rugby – something he’d only taken up to help him get girls. And it did, far too well.
Unfortunately, just like the three of us were destined to attend Oxford, Olly was fated to go to Cambridge, follow in his family’s footsteps studying law and less so, but just like his older brother, cause havoc among the first-year girls. Most likely second, third and fourth years too.
‘Ol, I need you to do me a favour.’
‘I’m still doing the last favour you asked me.’
Oz frowned. ‘What was that?’
‘Keep an eye on Kate.’
‘Oh, well, it’s the same thing then. I’m going to order some flowers, but please can you deliver them to her?’
‘Florists deliver, Oz. They can do it,’ he drawled.
‘I need to make sure they’ve arrived safely. Please.’ He stretched out his pleading so long that I’d have said yes just to stop it.
The grunt down the phone said Olly was of the same opinion. ‘Fine. What about a card?’
‘A card?’
‘Yeah, Valentine’s card?’
Oz’s panicked face shot up to Brooks and me. ‘Shit. I didn’t think about that. A card …’
‘The florist will drop a note in,’ piped up Brooks, only to be shot down with a scowl from Oz.
‘I’m not having the florist write my note to Kate,’ he snapped, ‘Ol, I’ll call you back. Okay, I need to find a florist, find a card, and drive it over to Olly.’
It was hard to tell whose eyebrows had shot higher, mine or Brooks’. Oz didn’t notice because he was too busy scrolling through his phone, but the way Brooks was still staring at me made it clear he thought Oz was losing his mind. Or maybe he’d lost it already, seeing as driving two hours across the country to deliver a Valentine’s Day card when we both knew for a fact he had classes this afternoon, not to mention cutting it fine for training this evening was something only a crazy person would attempt.
Instead, Brooks pushed out of the stool and dropped his empty mug in the sink. ‘Those cupcakes were just what I needed. Now if you’ll excuse me, chaps, I have work to do.’
Shifting around Oz to pick up the bag he’d dropped on the floor, he walked out with a backward wave and jogged up the stairs.
Typical.
I flicked on the kettle again and turned around. ‘Mate. Are you sure you want to be driving to Cambridge? It’s a four-hour round trip and that’s with light traffic. You’ll miss your classes. The florist can print the note, it’s not a big deal.’
He didn’t reply, just kept scrolling through his phone, and I wasn’t about to push the point. Instead, I checked the cupcakes, because I was also running on a time limit. But, they’d cooled enough, so I picked the best twenty-one and got to work.
‘That’s not purple frosting, is it Charlie?’ Oz said quietly as he watched me scoop it into the piping bag.
‘It looks purple to me,’ I frowned, ‘Are you colourblind?’
‘Nope,’ he replied, picking up his phone. ‘But that’s violet.’
I stayed silent for long enough that we both knew exactly what he meant.
‘Exactly.’ Oz turned at the door before leaving the kitchen, ‘If you want me to keep up the pretence that this relationship of yours is fake, then I suggest you mind your own business where Kate and I are concerned.’
Fuck.
I was still thinking about Oz’s comment as I rushed over to St Anne’s. Not rushed rushed, because I had a box of perfectly frosted cupcakes in my hands, but I’d been walking with enough speed so as not to be drastically late, but not so much that I’d risk violet frosting getting everywhere.
But turns out that the payoff for being careful didn’t pertain to other things.
If I hadn’t been carrying cupcakes, I’d have cycled. But because I was, therefore didn’t, I ended up getting caught in something much worse than a frosting mishap.
Though I told myself if she hadn’t found me now, she would have found me another time. She’d find me wherever I was.
‘Charlie?’
I spun around and braced myself for the panic I knew was about to rush through me, filling my nervous system with a toxic combination of adrenaline and cortisol. I stood there and waited. Waited some more.
Nothing.
It was pure annoyance making my heart pump harder.
I was already running late. I didn’t want to be later.
It dawned on me as Evie got up from the bench she’d been sitting on and closed the ten feet between us, that I hadn’t thought about her at all this week. In fact, I was certain that Evie had barely crossed my mind since I’d walked out of the class last Thursday to find Violet waiting for me. Because the Violet Effect had kicked in and she’d become my sole focus.
Even as Evie stopped in front of me, wrapped up head to toe in her standard black, which I knew she wore so her blue eyes appeared bluer, I felt nothing.
Well, except for the annoyance.
‘What are you doing here?’ I asked, my tone harsher than I meant it to be. Actually on second thoughts it was exactly the right amount of harsh.
St Anne’s was around the corner, Pembroke – Evie’s college – was twenty minutes in the opposite direction. There was absolutely no reason for her to be here.
‘Waiting for a friend,’ she replied.
I held back the shoulder shrug, because I honestly couldn’t be bothered to waste the energy. ‘Okay, cool. Well, see you.’
‘You’re avoiding me, Charlie,’ she called after me.
I spun back around, ‘I’m not avoiding you, Evie. I’m not doing anything.’
‘You don’t speak to me during class. Even when I’ve asked a question and I can see you know the answer, you don’t respond.’
‘Other people get there first,’ I replied, which was totally true. Gordon. Gordon always got there first. I might not have any intention of responding to Evie’s question, but I’d never had the chance anyway. ‘Beyond that I have nothing to say to you.’
Evie’s hands were wedged into her pockets but even from where I was standing I could tell her fists were clenching from the movement through her jacket. It used to be that not many people said no to Evie, maybe that was still the case.
‘You haven’t replied to any of my messages.’
My brows dropped as I wracked my brains. Pretty sure I hadn’t erased the memory of receiving a message from her, though it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.
‘I’ve not had any me—’ I stopped talking.
Based on the expression she was wearing, she knew exactly why I’d not replied, she just wanted me to admit it. I’d not received any messages because I’d blocked her years ago, not to mention changed my phone number, and clearly forgotten all about it.
I could almost feel the sting of that news through the sharp twitching in her eye.
Probably a new experience for her.
Oh well.
Her lips rolled into a hard line, ‘Okay. I deserve that. But if you want to know what they said … I miss you.’
She never gave me the chance to tell her I wasn’t interested in what some old, blocked text message said. Or that I’d been standing here for five minutes now, and I was really cutting it fine. Evie was eating into my Violet time, and it was beginning to piss me off.
‘You miss me?’ I snapped, though one could say it bordered on a snarl.
She nodded. ‘I do, a lot.’
I could have handled the I do, and left it at that. It was the a lot which really pushed me over the edge. This girl didn’t know the meaning of what it felt like to miss someone. All she cared about was the attention, the game.
‘What is the matter with you? You are so full of shit. How can you not see that?’
It was stupid of me to think she might back down. She was Evie Waters. She never took no for an answer. It didn’t even look like she’d heard me.
‘Charlie –’
‘Enough. I’m so sick of this. You don’t miss me. You miss someone to control, and tell you how pretty you are. You didn’t miss me when you went off with Hector Bygraves. You didn’t miss me when you went off with Dave Chamberlain. This is all just another one of your games, and I’m not playing this time. I’m done, Evie. Please get that through your head and leave me alone.’
‘Can we not even talk about it?’ she continued, because she clearly hadn’t heard a word I’d said. ‘Be reasonable.’
Reasonable?
‘I feel sorry for you. I really do. I hope one day you can find someone that will give you what you need, but it’s not me. Maybe it never was,’ I added with a long shake of my head, suddenly weary of all the time I’d wasted because of this girl standing in front of me.
All the connection I’d blocked myself off from, all the love I’d built a wall against.
Until one person knocked it down.
The one I was late for.
I thumbed behind me, ‘I’m going. I’m late to meet my girlfriend.’
I didn’t bother looking behind me as I walked/jogged down the path still trying to be as careful as possible. I knew well enough that Evie would stay on her spot until I was out of sight.
Thankfully I made it, though given Violet was locking the door to her room, I only just made it. Any thoughts I was having about strangling Evie vanished the second Violet spotted me. Her face lit up with so much happiness I forgot why I’d been running late entirely.
‘Hey, what are you doing here? Don’t you have class?’ She smiled against my lips, a smile sweeter than anything in this box.
Wrapping my spare arm around her waist, I said, ‘Yeah, I do. But I wanted to drop these off first, because I won’t get to see you before tomorrow.’
‘Tomorrow?’ she frowned, right before her eyes opened as they focused on the box still carefully gripped in my other hand.
‘Is that for me?’
‘Yup.’
Stepping back, she took the box and eased off the cardboard lid.
Her gasp was enough to let me know I’d done a good job. Mary Berry eat your heart out.
She peered down, her hand flying to her mouth as she read the words. One pink-iced biscuit letter had been placed on each of the twenty-one chocolate chip cupcakes, heaving with violet frosting.
WILL YOU BE MY VALENTINE?