The Cotswolds Cookery Club: A Taste of Spain - Book 2. Alice Ross

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СКАЧАТЬ fine,’ she confirmed. ‘Connie has explained exactly how it works and what’s expected of you. I told her you’ll start on Monday.’

      ‘Brilliant! Thanks, Mum.’ She planted a kiss on Trish’s cheek. Then, horror washing over her face, ‘Crap. I have nothing to wear.’

      Trish wrinkled her nose. ‘You’re delivering papers at six in the morning. I don’t think anyone will give a monkey’s what you wear.’

      Amber tossed her an admonishing look. ‘Honestly, Mum. You have no idea,’ she chided, before sticking her nose in the air and waltzing off down the hall.

      Several hours later – at two-fifty-three in the morning – Trish discovered Amber wasn’t the only one in the house with sartorial matters on her mind. She’d woken in a cold sweat stressing about the cookery club – worrying her skills weren’t up to it; concerned the other members wouldn’t like her; and wondering what to wear. At two-fifty-seven, after a furious rummage through her wardrobe, she’d settled on black linen trousers and a cream, V-necked top. And, after several changes of mind during the day, had reverted to her original – and ridiculously early – choice.

      ‘How do I look?’ she’d asked Amber, as she prepared to leave for Connie’s cottage.

      Amber had tilted her head to one side, run appraising eyes over her and made a strange grunting sound.

      Trish hadn’t known if it was a good grunting sound or a bad one. And she’d lacked the courage to ask.

      The moment Connie opened the door to her, though, all her concerns evaporated on a puff of garlic-infused smoke. The younger woman, while still looking gorgeous, was wearing cut-off jeans and a T-shirt. Making Trish breathe a sigh of relief she hadn’t opted for anything more formal.

      ‘I’m so glad you came,’ her host gushed. ‘I had a horrible feeling you might back out at the last minute.’

      Trish pulled a face. ‘Between me and you, I almost did. Not because I didn’t want to come, but because I’m so nervous. It’s been ages since I’ve met any new people.’

      Connie laughed. ‘Honestly, I felt exactly the same when I set up the club. The evening of the first meeting, I was so nervous I almost threw up.’

      ‘Yep, that sounds familiar,’ chuckled Trish, entering the cottage and following her host up the hall. ‘Goodness. This house is gorgeous.’

      ‘I know. Unfortunately, it isn’t mine. I’m house- and dog-sitting – for a friend for six months while she and her husband are in Australia. Eric – the dog in question – is behind the sofa, but he should pluck up the courage to poke his head out in approximately twenty minutes.’

      Trish laughed. ‘Bit on the nervy side then?’

      ‘Just a tad. An old rescue greyhound, who, despite having tons of love and attention heaped on him, still hasn’t conquered his nerves. He’s getting better, though.’

      ‘That’s good,’ said Trish. ‘But I thought you were looking after the newsagent’s while the owner was in Spain.’

      ‘That too. Well, me and the owner’s cousin. So, I suppose you could say I’m an all-round sitter. Which suits me fine at the minute. I’ll spare you the gory details but I ended up living back with my parents in London a short while ago. So, when my friend Anna offered me this house for six months, I snatched her hand off. She’s due back in November, at which point I would’ve had to move back to London. But in the meantime, Eleanor – the owner of the newsagent’s – decided to flit off to Spain, and asked me to look after the shop. I’m staying here for now, but in November I’ll move into the flat above the shop.’

      ‘Goodness. It all sounds very exciting.’

      Connie shrugged. ‘I don’t know about that. And I certainly hadn’t planned any of it. It’s all just happened. But I absolutely love Little Biddington, and looking after the shop gives me more time here. Until I sort out what I really want to do.’

      ‘Sounds ideal. And what about you and, um…?’

      ‘Max?’

      Trish noticed the way Connie’s eyes sparkled at the mention of his name.

      ‘It’s early days,’ she replied, smiling coyly.

      ‘Aah. They’re the best ones. If my memory serves me right.’

      ‘Oh, it most definitely does,’ giggled her host.

      The doorbell chimed, causing Eric to fleetingly appear as he leapt several feet in the air.

      ‘Heavens. Does he do that every time the bell rings?’

      ‘Without fail,’ replied Connie.

      The other two members of the cookery club arrived together and, to Trish’s astonishment, couldn’t have been more different. Kate – the village vet, who apparently had a brood of young children – seemed flustered, with a streak of ketchup on her creased blue top and a small tear in the back of her mismatched Indian print skirt. The younger woman, Melody, conversely, was stunning – in pristine white jeans and a pink blouse. Within minutes of their arrival, however, Trish concluded they were both lovely.

      ‘Well, it’s great you’ve joined us,’ said Melody. ‘Although I should warn you, you have to watch what you say here. I bet Connie hasn’t told you about her blog.’

      Trish quirked a curious eyebrow.

      ‘I knew she wouldn’t have,’ Melody exclaimed, shaking her head in mock despair at their host. ‘She set up a blog about the club when we first started and it’s so popular that the Galloping Gourmet magazine contacted her to write a column. The first one is in this month’s edition.’

      ‘The Galloping Gourmet?’ Trish gaped at Connie. ‘That’s amazing. I love that magazine.’

      ‘So do I,’ said Connie. ‘And I’m still in shock about the whole thing, to be honest. I started the blog on a complete whim after something Kate said one day, and it just took off.’

      ‘Well, well, well.’ Trish shook her head in disbelief. ‘If I’d known I’d be spending the evening with a celebrity, I’d have put my lippy on.’

      ‘No lippy required here. It would only come off when we’re troughing all the food. And talking of food, let’s knuckle down to some cooking. I’ve already prepared the main course of sardines en escabeche, and I was going to make an ensaladilla salad to go with it. There’s all sorts in that – potatoes, carrots, green beans, gherkins, olives…’

      ‘Sounds gorgeous,’ said Kate. ‘I’m going to make pimiento tartlets for the starter. They should take about forty minutes, including cooking time.’

      ‘And I’m having a go at pestinos for dessert,’ said Melody. ‘They’re sweet bites, apparently invented by the Arabs. I could deep fry them, but I’m opting for the healthier version and will bake them instead, before dunking them in honey. They’ll need about half an hour in the oven so maybe we should start with those.’

      ‘Wow. It all sounds gorgeous,’ said Trish, feeling suddenly СКАЧАТЬ