The Plumberry School of Comfort Food Read online

  Comfrey and Sage stopped immediately and stared at him. Thank goodness.

  The man delved into the brown paper bag he was carrying and held out a hand to them. ‘Cheese? Come on, fellas. Here’s some cheese,’ he called in a strong Irish accent.

  The two errant canines trotted up to the man’s outstretched fingers, tails wagging, and took the cheese from him greedily.

  ‘Thank you so much,’ I gasped, completely out of breath. I scooped up the leads and clasped a hand to my chest. ‘Comfrey and Sage, you pair of monkeys, you frightened me half to death. If I’d lost you . . .’

  ‘The dogs have good taste,’ the man chuckled, producing more cheese. ‘And great names.’

  ‘Thanks.’ I allowed myself a small smile, Gloria would be so proud. ‘Their owner has good taste too.’

  ‘I’m sure she does,’ he said, grinning up at me, and I got my first proper look at him.

  The word ‘rakish’ sprang to mind.

  His thick dark hair was a bit wild on top and looked like it had to be tamed on a daily basis. He was my sort of age, with dark eyebrows to go with the black hair and eyes as brown as espresso. His face was pale and he had that trendy unshaven thing going on: a bit more than stubble but not quite a beard. He looked nothing like Liam. Which had to be a good thing.

  ‘Oh that’s not me, I’m not their owner and I’ve got no taste at all,’ I laughed.

  ‘No?’ The man raised an eyebrow.

  I shook my head. ‘Give me one of those round baby cheeses wrapped in red wax and I’m anyone’s. Well, not quite anyone’s, obviously,’ I added hastily.

  Top marks for first impressions, Verity, now he’ll think you’re a nympho with a cheap cheese habit.

  ‘Right.’ He nodded, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Or possibly hiding a smirk. ‘Well, the dogs certainly appreciate a bit of handcrafted, local cheese.’

  Oh gosh. That sounded expensive.

  ‘I’m so sorry; let me buy you some more.’ I cringed, reaching for my purse. The one I’d left at Gloria’s house. ‘Oh. Embarrassing. I appear to be cashless. Like the Queen.’

  My face began to heat up.

  ‘Forget it,’ he said, rubbing Comfrey behind his ear. ‘It was my pleasure. Sorry about knocking you into the window, by the way.’

  He stood up and gave me an apologetic smile.

  ‘Oh, any time,’ I said, trying to ignore the throbbing in my shoulder.

  ‘I’m Tom,’ he said, holding out a hand.

  I scanned his outfit: a navy jacket, his collarless shirt was untucked and he wore suede desert boots. I approved.

  ‘Verity Bloom,’ I said, shaking his hand.

  He had slender warm fingers and there was a blue plaster on one of his knuckles and a woven leather bracelet on his wrist.

  ‘Pleased to meet you, Verity Bloom.’

  ‘I’m very grateful that you came along when you did, Tom, and I’ll tell Gloria what a hero you are.’

  Small village, everyone seemed to know everyone, even the dogs. He was bound to know Gloria.

  ‘Gloria?’ He looked at me quizzically.

  OK, maybe not.

  ‘Yes. My friend’s mum . . .’ Why say that? Why mention Mimi? I shook my head and corrected myself. ‘She’s a friend.’

  ‘Your friend’s mum’s friend?’ His mouth twitched.

  The dogs, sensing that I could be here some time, flopped on to my feet and I glanced down, glad of the distraction.

  ‘I’m not normally so incomprehensible, I think the prospect of seeing Gloria’s dogs being squished under a car after being in Plumberry less than an hour has made me all blabbery.’ I gave an awkward laugh.

  ‘So you’re not local?’ He peered into his bag, laughed softly and folded the top over.

  I shook my head. ‘Just visiting.’

  ‘I’ve not been here much longer than an hour myself.’ He grinned, shifting his brown bags from one arm to the other. ‘Listen, I’ve just bought some olives, a sourdough loaf and I now have a very small piece of Yorkshire Blue. I was going to get some red wine from the wine merchants over there and have a picnic on the church bench. Will you join me?’

  A picnic lunch: my favourite. With a tallish, dark and very handsome stranger. What’s not to like?

  ‘No, thank you, I can’t because . . .’ I paused. Why couldn’t I? Because I only split up with Liam yesterday and so far during this conversation everything that had come out of my mouth had been drivel?

  He raised his eyebrows. He really did have lovely eyes. ‘Because you only eat Babybel?’

  ‘No, because Gloria’s expecting me.’

  What am I, twelve?

  Tom shrugged. ‘Shame. Well, I’m sure I’ll see you again, Verity.’

  ‘Sure,’ I said, ‘bye for now.’

  I tipped the dogs off my feet, watching Tom surreptitiously as he set off towards the wine merchants, only to return immediately.

  ‘More cheese, I think,’ he said with a wink.

  ‘Sorry.’ I pulled my lip between my teeth. ‘Again.’

  ‘Good decision, coming to Plumberry today, boys,’ I announced to the dogs as I headed back to Gloria’s cottage to drop them off. ‘So far everyone has made me feel very welcome indeed.’

  Especially the dark-haired Irishman with a penchant for blue cheese . . .

  Chapter 6

  At one o’clock, the dogs were back in their basket in Gloria’s kitchen and I was pulling my little car into the cookery school car park between two tradesmen’s vans.

  Oh my goodness, the place was amazing. I climbed out of the car and turned around slowly. Even though it was just a stone’s throw from the village centre, the setting was unbelievably picturesque. I’d known that the cookery school was housed in half of an old mill, sharing the space with a micro-brewery, and I’d imagined something industrial and dark. But the building in front of me was made from beautiful warm stone, had acres of glass and was set alongside the tumbling waters of a river. The old waterwheel was still there too, giving an olde-worlde charm to the place.

  There were other little businesses dotted around the edge of the car park in smaller converted buildings: a candle-maker’s, a handmade furniture shop and some sort of art studio. It was all very bohemian. Behind the mill, on the other side of the water, there was a spectacular view across steep green hills and rocky outcrops. It was wild and rugged and my nostrils tingled with the sheer vitality of the landscape.

  A petite figure with short golden hair dressed in a stylish off-the-shoulder jumper and jeans appeared through huge glass doors.

  ‘Verity, you came! Welcome to Plumberry!’

  Gloria waved and scurried towards me.

  ‘Thank you for inviting me!’ I cried.

  I ran to meet her and five seconds later she had her arms round me, rocking me from side to side.

  Whenever I saw her we hugged like this: silently and tightly, just for a moment. I reminded Gloria of Mimi and vice versa. For me it was Gloria’s vivid blue eyes, her tiny feet and the oval shape of her fingernails that instantly plunged me straight back to doing makeovers in Mimi’s bedroom when we were fifteen. And for Gloria I guess it was the fact that I had been her daughter’s best friend and holding me was the closest she could get to holding Mimi again.

  I felt a momentary pang for my own mum, wishing I could do this with her more than just once a year, which was all we usually managed. We may not always have seen eye to eye – she liked to give me advice that I was too stubborn to take – but I did miss her.

  ‘It does my heart good just to look at you, darling girl,’ Gloria declared, stroking my cheek.

  Her blue eyes sparkled but beneath them, dark shadows hinted at too much stress and not enough sleep. She stood back to inspect me. ‘Although I still think you’re too thin.’

  ‘Er, pot and kettle,’ I chided gently, taking in the hollows under her cheekbones. ‘Mags – who I love, by the way – has told me you’re working too hard and now that I’m here I sh
all be making sure you take care of yourself.’

  Gloria tilted her head to one side and twizzled her bangles round on her arm. ‘There’s nothing to worry about, I assure you. Once the cookery school is open and we’ve got through these teething troubles, life will be as smooth as hollandaise sauce.’

  I grinned. ‘Not my hollandaise sauce, I hope. I’ve only made it once and it had lumps of scrambled egg in it.’

  Gloria smiled. ‘I’m sure we can sort that out, just as soon as you’ve sorted out my website and brochures and—’

  ‘OK, OK,’ I chuckled, tucking my hand through her arm. ‘Aren’t you going to show me round first? This place is to die for, by the way; look at those hills and the old mill and the river! Totally gorgeous.’

  Arm in arm, the two of us strolled into a large reception area. Two men were plastering the walls, while another was wiring modern light fittings to the ceiling. The air was dusty and smelled damp from the wet plaster and it was hard to imagine that Gloria would be ready to open her doors to paying customers in two and a half weeks’ time.

  ‘There’s still plenty to do,’ Gloria said, reading my mind. She swept her fringe from one side of her forehead to the other. ‘But the builder assures me that we’ll be ready on time. Lovely building, don’t you think? If you can see past the mess.’

  I nodded, taking in the high ceilings and deep windows. Several doors led off the reception area as well as a staircase with lovely wrought-iron balusters. ‘Fabulous!’

  And it was fabulous. But deep down I was concerned; this place was huge. When Gloria first said she was opening a cookery school I’d naïvely thought she’d just have a few students over to her kitchen at home. But this was a major undertaking.

  ‘Reception will be Mags’s domain with a desk over here,’ said Gloria, indicating one area of the space. ‘She’ll be our official welcome party when our students arrive. She’s given herself the title of front of house manager.’

  ‘She’s going to work here too?’ Mags’s earlier comment finally made sense and I was relieved that Gloria had her on the team. ‘I approve. She does a great welcome; your guests will love her.’

  ‘She’s certainly larger than life,’ she said with a smile.

  We carried on through, Gloria opening doors to show me the cloakroom, food preparation areas and storage cupboards.

  ‘And this is my favourite room,’ she said, pushing open a pair of double doors.

  ‘Wow,’ I breathed. My eyes must have been as big as dinner plates. ‘It’s lovely!’

  The big space was empty except for a huge cream Aga and black granite worktops at one end with a row of half-finished kitchen cupboards behind it. A man was laying large floor tiles at the opposite end. One wall of the room was made entirely of glass with a view out on to a wooden deck overlooking the river. Through an open door, I spotted a kitchen prep area with a sink, fridge and shelves, mostly empty except for a kettle and a tray of mugs and tea-making things.

  ‘The tutor will work here,’ said Gloria, walking behind the cooker. ‘There’ll be a big mirror above the hob so students can see what’s going on, and the tables and chairs – when they arrive – will be set up either lecture style or as a dining room. I see this room as more relaxed; the students will be watching and tasting rather than cooking.’

  I shot Gloria a look of confusion. ‘They won’t be cooking?’

  She laughed softly. ‘Come on, the tour continues upstairs.’

  We walked back through reception and up the stairs. The first floor was just one large open space except for an office partitioned off in the far corner. On the far side was another door, but it was closed and I couldn’t see where it led. A team of four joiners was hard at work fitting the kitchens. Men were hammering and banging and power tools thrummed, drilled and whirred. A radio blared out, adding an extra noise to the cacophony and a thick layer of sawdust had settled over everything. I coughed as Gloria led me to the back of the room.

  ‘There’ll be a teaching workstation at the front,’ she shouted above the noise. ‘And twenty student kitchens, sharing an oven between two.’

  Twenty? I blinked at her. ‘Gloria, it’s all wonderful, in fact I’m blown away, but—’

  My voice was drowned out by the piercing whine of a drill and the two of us smiled. I linked arms with her and drew her back downstairs to the tranquillity of the wooden deck overhanging the river.

  ‘This is much more restful,’ she said, perching herself on a plastic chair at the edge of the deck.

  The river was quite narrow here and the water flowed gently over the rocks. The bank on the other side rose steeply and was shaded by trees.

  ‘Very peaceful,’ I agreed, leaning on the wooden balustrade and breathing in the fresh moist air. I turned to gaze into her eyes. ‘And much more conducive to talking. This is a big venture. Much bigger than I’d imagined.’

  She looked down and began to turn one of her bangles round and round on her arm. ‘I couldn’t do nothing, Verity. Retirement and I were dangerous bedfellows. Sixty-five probably seems ancient to you, but I could live for another twenty-five years. Being active makes me feel alive. And I’ve got forty years’ worth of recipes in my head and on scraps of paper in my recipe bible; I can’t wait to pass them on to other people. I’ve missed working as a food stylist and this will give me a chance to be creative again.’

  I stared up at the old mill and my heart twisted. Mimi would have been so excited to be part of this. Once again it was me who got to play a part in her dreams.

  ‘Mimi would be very proud of you, Gloria. She always said you were unstoppable.’ We smiled at each other. ‘But this is more than being creative with food,’ I added. ‘The management of a business this size will take over your whole life.’

  Her eyes lit up mischievously. ‘Who’s to say I need to run it myself? I could install a manager, someone young and clever.’ She nudged me with her elbow. ‘Like you.’

  My mouth gaped. That wasn’t on the agenda. ‘Er—’

  ‘Who knows?’ she continued breezily. ‘But right now, I need this. I need to be busy.’

  The look that she gave me was so loaded with determination and confidence that my heart melted.

  ‘Do you know what?’ I said, leaning down to press a kiss into her honey-gold hair. ‘Right now, so do I.’

  One of the workmen appeared, leaning on the door frame. He pulled his dust mask down to his chin and a cloud of dust puffed out of it.

  ‘Sorry to interrupt, Gloria,’ he said, rubbing an arm across his forehead, ‘but which side do you want the hinges on these cupboard doors?’

  ‘I’ll be right with you, Neil. I’d better press on,’ she said, turning to me with a little sigh. ‘Why don’t you go home and unpack? I’ll see you later.’

  I frowned. ‘Don’t you want me to start straight away?’

  She stood up and shook her head. ‘I’ll tell you everything that needs doing tonight. I’ve invited my new chef to join us for dinner and Mags has offered to cook so the four of us can have a pow-wow. Although as Mags is a bit of a party girl, goodness knows how much we’ll get done.’

  ‘I can’t wait,’ I laughed as Gloria trotted off behind Neil.

  By the time Gloria arrived home I’d completely unpacked, taken Comfrey and Sage for a second walk and listened to the story of how Mags met Gloria while she chopped vegetables for dinner. It seemed they were far more than simply neighbours: they’d met years ago when Mags was working for a publisher specializing in cookery books. She accompanied one of her celebrity chefs to the TV studios to promote a new cookery book, bumped into Gloria behind the scenes and the two women hit it off instantly.

  Mags packed her off upstairs with a glass of wine for a bath and I was despatched to lay the table in the dining room. I set out glasses and cutlery for four and was just looking at the many framed pictures of Mimi and Gabe’s wedding and Noah’s christening when the doorbell rang.

  ‘That’ll be Tom,’ Gloria called over t
he banister. She was enveloped in a fluffy white robe. ‘Let him in, please, I’ll only be five minutes.’

  The dogs scrabbled past me, yapping madly as I made my way along the hall.

  ‘We met a Tom today, didn’t we, chaps? The dog whisperer with posh cheese.’

  I opened the door and there he was, the same Tom. ‘Oh! It’s you!’

  ‘Verity Bloom.’ He smiled and his eyes crinkled at the corners. ‘I had a feeling I might be seeing you again.’

  ‘Oh?’ I blinked. ‘Did you?’

  Comfrey and Sage threw themselves at his legs with gay abandon. I was more restrained but my stomach fizzed nervously. Oh God, all that stuff I’d blabbed about having no taste and eating plastic cheese and this must be the chef with the Michelin star.

  He nodded. ‘I figured there couldn’t be too many Glorias in a village this size.’ He held out a bunch of orange tulips. ‘For you.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said, genuinely touched by the gesture. The last time someone bought me flowers was . . . I couldn’t even remember. A long time, anyway. ‘So you’re the cookery school’s new tutor?’

  ‘Yep, on a temporary basis. I’ll be sharing the teaching with Gloria, running the kitchen, planning courses, ordering supplies – that sort of thing.’ He bent down to fuss the dogs. ‘And dog whisperer with posh cheese. But no cheese this evening, I’m afraid, guys.’

  I stood aside to let him in. ‘You heard that?’

  He winked. ‘Yes. But don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.’

  ‘Phew, thanks.’

  At least Gloria wouldn’t find out about the dog lead incident.

  He leaned in close and I felt his warm breath in my ear. ‘I won’t tell a soul you’re anybody’s after a mouthful of Babybel.’

  I opened my mouth to protest but both Gloria and Mags appeared in the hall.

  ‘Tom! Come in, let’s get you a drink.’ Gloria clasped his arms and kissed both his cheeks.

  ‘I’ve brought red and white,’ he said, producing two bottles of wine from a bag. ‘I didn’t know what we’d be eating.’

  ‘You look so delicious I might eat you, chuck,’ Mags declared, plucking the bottles out of his hand. ‘Five minutes, ladies and gentlemen, take your seats please.’