Mistletoe & Mystery Read online

  Mistletoe & Mystery

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  The Paradise Cookery School Series

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Acknowledgements

  Copyright

  ‘OMG - the food!! The descriptions made me constantly hungry. The love interest was delicious, too.’ Lilac Mills

  ‘Well this was a sunny delightful read! Food and sunshine what more could you want?... oh my the food, and the sun and promise of romance was just delightful!’ The Book Trail

  Sunshine & Secrets

  Confetti & Confusion

  Mistletoe & Mystery

  Read now…

  To all my family and friends who make Christmas so special.

  Chapter One

  “Oh my God! Millie, I’m so jealous! Are you sure Claudia doesn’t need a fabulously talented assistant for the Festive Feast course? I could help with the reindeer cupcakes, or the gingerbread Santas, or the St Clements mince pies! And you know how much everyone loves my melt-in-your mouth shortcrust pastry!”

  Millie had to smile at Poppy’s enthusiasm. She really did wish she could take her friend and fellow pastry chef along with her to Claudia Croft’s famous cookery school in the Cotswolds.

  “In fact, scratch that. I’d even be prepared to grab my Marigolds and get stuck into the washing up if it meant I could spend the next week in Berryford watching Claudia show a bunch of enthusiast foodies how to rustle up a celebrity-grade Christmas feast. You are sooo lucky! Oh, and not to mention the fact that you’ll be able to reacquaint yourself with that hunky estate manager you’ve never stopped talking about since you came back from St Lucia, the delicious Mr Zach Barker.”

  Millie felt the heat whoosh into her cheeks and groaned. She had been back from her trip to the Paradise Cookery School in the Caribbean for over two months, but she hadn’t been able to hide her feelings for Zach from Poppy who had dug relentlessly for every scrap of detail like an overzealous gossip columnist. Nevertheless, she still wanted to make light of their imminent reunion, despite the eager anticipation that was bubbling in her stomach.

  “Poppy, I’m going to Stonelea Manor to co-present the Festive Feast cookery course, not to demonstrate how to manage a country estate. I’ll probably be so busy with the tutorials that our paths won’t even cross.”

  “Who are you kidding? I’ve seen the photos of Zach on your Facebook page – he’s absolutely gorgeous. If I was in your dainty sequinned sandals, I’d definitely be planning a few unscheduled visits to that cute little stone lodge he calls home, armed with a basket full of freshly baked cinnamon cookies and a bottle of home-made rum punch. Did I tell you how envious I am?”

  “You might have mentioned it once or twice!” Millie giggled and rolled her eyes at Poppy as they finished wiping down the marble countertops in Étienne’s, the tiny patisserie in Hammersmith where they were both fortunate enough to work.

  Millie adored the atmosphere in the little café; cosy, welcoming, friendly but with a touch of Parisian elegance and the ambient fragrance of warm buttery croissants. However, for her, the best part of the shop was its bay window, hung with a necklace of red, white and blue bunting and showcasing a smorgasbord of delicious delights more akin to a high-end jewellery store – and displaying a wider variety of colours. She loved the neat rows of multicoloured macarons, of pistachio and kiwi mille-feuille, of angel wings and miniature rum babas. Every morning, she would feast her eyes on the display and declare it to be a piece of culinary art, far better than its cousins in the Tate because Étienne’s patrons could taste their creations!

  “Okay, looks like we’re done for the day,” said Poppy, flicking off the lights and grabbing her duffle bag. “I’ve got a bottle of chocolate vodka upstairs just crying out to be tested. Come on, let’s go and celebrate your good fortune properly.”

  “My flat or yours?”

  “I don’t want you to take this personally, Millie, but mine – definitely. I like a bit of seasonal cheer just as much as the next person, but your living room looks like a Christmas volcano has erupted and spewed forth every decoration imaginable! Where on earth did you get all that stuff? I mean, a set of dancing pineapples in sunglasses and Santa suits?”

  Millie laughed. “Got those in St Lucia – I love them! I really wanted to buy the matching set of bananas dressed as elves, but I just couldn’t cram another thing in my suitcase. Maybe I should give Ella a call and ask her to ship them over for me?”

  “I’m no interior decorator but take my advice and try to resist that temptation!”

  Millie saw Poppy grin as she opened the door of her apartment nestled in the eaves above the patisserie and just across the hallway from Millie’s own tiny studio. Poppy’s flat was exactly the same size as hers, but that was where the similarities ended. The décor here reflected her friend’s personality to a tee – brash, bohemian, with jewel-bedecked mirrors and lamps that Poppy had designed herself at her Wednesday night art class, a hobby chosen because it meant she could drool over the tutor – a moody French sculptor called François.

  Millie sighed and collapsed down on Poppy’s over-stuffed orange sofa with a surge of relief. It was the second week in December, the pre-Christmas frenzy had started in earnest, and her feet throbbed their objection to the onslaught of activity. She was already beginning to regret accepting Poppy’s invitation instead of heading straight for a long soak in a hot bath filled with her favourite Moulton Brown bubbles that her sister Jen had given her for her birthday.

  However, when Poppy dropped down on the seat next to her with the promised bottle of vodka and two glasses, she quickly changed her mind about the bath. She accepted a generous measure and sat back against the scarlet silk cushions, curling her legs under her bottom and taking a tentative sip of the popular liquid remedy for the weary.

  “Mmm, delicious, thanks Poppy.”

  “So, what did your mum say when you told her you weren’t going over to France for the holidays this year? Did she freak out?”

  “Not when I explained why. I mean, it really is a dream come true, isn’t it? Mum knows how much I loved presenting the Paradise Cookery School’s Chocolate & Confetti course at Claudia’s villa in St Lucia. It was a fabulous experience and I learned so much from Ella about Caribbean cooking, but now I’ve got this amazing chance to work with Claudia Croft herself! Poppy, I’ve decided that’s what I want to do – present cookery classes to enthusiastic food lovers. Sooo… in the new year I’m going to start looking for a new position where I can do just that.”

  “And leave Étienne’s?” Poppy looked scandalised, but her chestnut brown eyes were gentle and understanding. “Only joking. Millie, you could smash whatever you put your mind to. And you’ve no idea how happy I am to hear you say that. It’s about time you moved on to new adventures – you’ve got a Michelin star, for God’s sake. I don’t know why you insist on hiding that fact.”

  “I’m not hiding it.”

  “Well, you’re definitely not shouting about it from the rooftops like I would be!”

  Millie watched her friend remove her sparkly hairclips and allow her hair to frame her cheeks in glossy maho
gany waves. A whiff of jasmine perfume invaded the air and her heart gave a nip of gratitude for her good fortunate at having someone like Poppy in her life – she really had provided the balm to her ragged soul when she’d arrived in London having been ditched at her own engagement party.

  “Actually, all that feels like ancient history now, an episode from someone else’s life – someone I don’t recognise.”

  A splash of sadness swished into her chest, but she doused it in a flash. She rarely thought of her ex-fiancé nowadays, and when she did it was with only fleeting regret, not the long, slow burn of agony that had stalked her endlessly until a couple of months ago. The way Luke had chosen to terminate their two-year relationship had hurt tremendously, but the icing on the pain-filled cupcake had been the discovery that the person he had abandoned her for was her best friend’s mother. That morsel of information had been just too much to bear so she had walked out of the restaurant they co-owned, grabbed her suitcase, and ran away to start a new life of anonymity in the metropolis. Poppy had been the first non-family member she had confessed her heartbreak to and her friend had welcomed her into her world with open arms, a cheerful smile, and a surfeit of vodka in a myriad of flavours which had helped to dull the pain.

  However, she was happy to report that she was done with licking her wounds. Her confidence in her culinary creativity had returned, and she was ready to launch herself into a new challenge, professional and personal. Her lips twitched at the corners when a fully formed image of the person she had to thank for her renaissance into a normal human being again appeared in her mind’s eye: Zach Barker, Claudia’s estate manager, whom she’d encountered at the Paradise Cookery School back in September.

  Poppy was right. Zach was gorgeous; handsome, athletic, inquisitive, with a sharp line in sarcasm and a quirky sense of humour. Even the fact that they occupied opposite ends of the orderliness spectrum hadn’t prevented them from connecting on a deeper level than she had expected. She smiled at the memory of the warm, lingering kisses they had shared beneath the swaying palm trees, with the tropical backdrop of the white beaches, sparkling blue ocean and verdant lushness of the vegetation making the whole experience seem so much more romantic.

  “So, did Tim tell you why Claudia needs a co-presenter on the Festive Feast course this year? I thought she usually insists on doing all the demonstrations at her cookery school herself? After all, isn’t that why most people book the courses – to rub shoulders with a celebrity? Have they accidentally overbooked or something?”

  “No, there’s only the usual eight fanatical food lovers booked on the course, but Tim said he’d persuaded Claudia to ask for help this year. He’s worried about her. Ever since her riding accident she’s been complaining about being tired all the time and Tim thinks she needs to build her strength back up after having her leg immobilised in a plaster cast for six weeks.”

  “And, of course, because of the fantastic job you did at the Paradise Cookery School, Claudia thought of you straight away!”

  “Maybe. Anyway, he wants her to take it easy for a while - it’s the perfect time over the Christmas holidays - and he plans on taking her over to the Caribbean in the new year for a blast of sunshine. He actually wanted Claudia to cancel the Festive Feast course, but she refused because she didn’t want to let the students down.”

  “Claudia’s an amazing woman,” sighed Poppy, shoving a handful of home-made toffee-and-pecan popcorn into her mouth and selecting a lock of hair to twist around her fingers. “I’ve got all her cookery books. Hey, if I give you a couple, do you think you could ask her to sign them for me?”

  “Sure,” Millie laughed, draining her glass and running the tip of her tongue along her lower lip to savour every last drop. “You know, I’m really looking forward to meeting Claudia face-to-face, but I don’t mind admitting that I’m also a little bit nervous. I mean, co-presenting a course with the doyenne of desserts! What if I mess up? What if…” Millie’s eyes widened as she tucked an escaped curl behind her ear. “What if I smash a priceless vase or drop a bottle of vintage Krug? You know what I’m like, Poppy. Mishap Millie is what Zach calls me, and he’s spot on!”

  “And we’ve been working on those issues since you got back from the Caribbean and you’re doing great,” Poppy assured Millie loyally, handing her the bowl of popcorn that complimented the chocolate vodka perfectly.

  “Not great! Remember yesterday when I dribbled a generous helping of crème Anglaise on the sleeve of that customer’s brand-new Paul Smith sweater? It was only Étienne’s swift intervention with an offer of afternoon-tea-for-two on the house that stopped him from sending over his dry-cleaning bill.”

  Poppy laughed as she leaned forward to refill their glasses.

  “Look, Millie, you are an awesome chef. Your culinary creations will speak louder than your haphazard methods. Just use the week to learn everything you can from Claudia and when you get back you’ll walk into that coveted presenting job.”

  “Maybe.” Millie paused as something else occurred to her. “You know, Tim said something else that worried me.”

  “What did he say?”

  “That one of the reasons Claudia didn’t want to cancel the Festive Feast course this year was because it was going to be the last one.”

  “So that’s weird. Why would Claudia want to stop running the courses?”

  “I asked Tim that very question. He said it was complicated and that Claudia would explain everything when I got there, but that she’s devastated. It could be one of the reasons why she’s been feeling under the weather recently and has agreed to get additional help this year.”

  “Well, maybe you could offer your services every year from now on? Did I tell you how envious I am? Are my cheeks turning fifty shades of green? Oh, I bet Berryford is so romantic at this time of year – everything twinkling with fairy lights, the aroma of cinnamon and cloves floating through the crisp winter air, and the whole scene set to the soundtrack of White Christmas. Id-dyl-lic. Wouldn’t it be amazing if it actually does snow?”

  “No way! You know how much I hate the snow.”

  “Oh, but it would be the icing on the Christmas cake. A cute Cotswolds village wrapped in a soft blanket of white. A chance to sit around a blazing log fire, hugging cups of warm mulled wine, sharing bodily warmth with the local heartthrob and kissing underneath the mistletoe. Hey, Millie, maybe you should carry an emergency spring of mistletoe in your back pocket so you can whip it out when Zach’s least expecting it. How can he refuse? It’s tradition. Isn’t that what Christmas is all about? Tradition?” asked Poppy, her dark eyes sparkling as she wallowed in her own personal version of Yuletide heaven.

  Millie had to agree. Apart from the higher than average risk of snow, she adored everything about Christmas. It was the perfect excuse to fill every nook and cranny with as much festive paraphernalia as possible; tinsel, baubles, snow globes, bunting, fairy lights - her flat was stuffed to the rafters with so many decorations it looked like a hyperactive elf’s grotto – and she loved it! Who would choose the stark, clean lines of Scandinavian minimalism when you could hang a hand-embroidered snowman above the fireplace and house a whole herd of flashing reindeers on the front lawn?

  Yes, she was a complete Christmas fanatic, always had been, and so was her sister Jen, much to their mother’s disgust. Monique had embraced her French heritage and insisted on dressing her converted barn high in the hills of Provence with a simple fir tree and nothing else, preferring to splash her cash on all the foodie treats associated with the season - cinnamon palmiers, bûche de Noël, and a spectacular caramel croquembouche centrepiece - rather than the decorations and excessive gift-giving Millie and Jen loved so much. Millie knew she was going to love her week’s sojourn at Stonelea Manor whipping up a long list of traditional recipes for a bunch of busy professionals.

  “I wish you were coming to Berryford, Poppy. I’m not sure what Tim meant about it being the last course, but Stonelea Manor is their home, so p
erhaps Claudia just wants to move the school to different premises, or to concentrate all her efforts on getting the Caribbean branch properly established. I know she has plans to reinvigorate the cocoa plantation so she can make her own chocolate and offer tours of the estate to the students. That’s bound to take up a lot of her time and energy.”

  “All the more reason for you to offer your services in the Cotswolds. And you know what the best thing about that is?”

  “What?”

  “You’ll get to spend some real quality time with the most handsome estate manager this side of the Atlantic! It’ll be the ideal opportunity to find out if the spark you both felt in the Caribbean paradise has transferred to the ‘paradise’ of the English countryside. If so, then you could be on to something magical.”

  Despite their busy lives in different parts of the country - hers in London, Zach’s in the Cotswolds now that he’d returned from St Lucia - they had stayed in touch via email and the occasional text. She was excited about seeing him again, or she had been until earlier that afternoon when she’d read Zach’s response to the news of her imminent arrival; a concise text stating that they had ‘a lot to talk about’ when she got to Berryford - and she had no idea what that meant. Could she have misread the signals? Just in case she had, she intended to play down the fizz of anticipation bubbling through her veins.

  “I’m not sure things would work between me and Zach. We are very different.”

  “Haven’t you heard of the expression ‘opposites attract’? And have you forgotten that cocktail-infused confession you made last Saturday night about how alive you felt whenever you were in Zach’s company? But, in the event that nothing happens between the two of you – there’s always the Mistletoe Ball on Christmas Eve for you to look forward to.”

  Millie noticed a glint of mischief in Poppy’s eyes, a sure sign for her to be on her guard.

  “And?”

  “What do you mean?” said Poppy, all innocence.