A Body at the Bake Off, page 21
‘You said, when I got in, that you were surprised they let me enter. You said I must have an unfair advantage over the other contestants.’
He nodded. ‘Yeah. The rules said you couldn’t be a professional baker, but they didn’t say you couldn’t enter if you’d trained as a chef.’
‘But someone who’s been to catering college must have an advantage over a housewife, an anaesthetist and a retired teacher, right?’ I turned to Camilla. ‘So that’s why I got a spot. Martin doesn’t work as a baker, but he does work as a chef. Technically, it’s not against the rules, but it doesn’t really seem fair, does it? Not if everyone else in the competition was untrained. So you made sure that he wasn’t the only trained chef in the tent.’ Martin looked aghast but Camilla just stared at me, coldly. ‘You know what, I bet I was meant to go out in an earlier round, to make it look even more like having a catering background wasn’t an advantage. You weren’t happy about me making it to the final, were you? But after Ravi cocked up the last round so badly, you couldn’t persuade Pete and Esme to let him through without it looking suspicious. They would have wanted to know why you were so keen to get rid of me and keep Ravi.’ I facepalmed as something else occurred to me, something that was really obvious now I thought of it. ‘That’s why you were so happy for me to keep disappearing to help the police with the investigation. You thought there was no way I’d get through if I was in and out of the tent all the time.’
‘What you didn’t allow for is the fact that my daughter is an amazing cook,’ said Mum, who as ever had managed to insinuate herself into the action, and I felt a flush of pride. She’d never told me I was an amazing cook before.
‘And then when I still kept getting through, things started disappearing from my workbench, and stuff got tampered with. My hob got turned off halfway through a challenge.’
‘So – so someone cheated, to get you out?’ said Martin, and he genuinely looked horrified at the thought. ‘I don’t understand—’
‘It was Camilla,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry, Martin, at first I thought it was you, putting salt in my custard and hiding ingredients from me. But I realised you were so intent on winning that you hardly even moved from the counter. You were too immersed in what you were doing to think about anyone else.’
‘But why would Camilla be so desperate for Martin to win?’ asked Elaine, confused. I shook my head.
‘I don’t know. Yet.’
‘I knew I recognised you!’ said Mum suddenly, looking Camilla up and down. ‘You’re Deirdre Hurley’s youngest, aren’t you? You’re the spit of her.’
‘What?’ I was surprised, but I shouldn’t have been, because between them Mum and Tony knew everybody in Cornwall. It certainly felt that way, anyway.
‘I told you about her, the one that moved upcountry. To Chelsea.’
‘Yeah, but – Camilla?’
‘She’s got her mother’s nose,’ said Mum. ‘I thought I knew her from somewhere when I first saw her, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. But that must be why I remembered that night in Chelsea with DeeDee, when I hadn’t thought about her for donkey’s years.’ Mum shook her head. ‘Her family weren’t best pleased when she went into modelling, I can tell you, not until she started making enough money to send some back to them. She even bought her sister Sheila a café in Bodmin. She always dreamt of having a little tea shop by the moors.’ She sniffed. ‘Funny thing to dream of, if you ask me. I always dreamt about being whisked off to Egypt by Omar Sharif and having him ravish me on the banks of the river Nile, but it takes all sorts, I suppose.’
‘Oh my GOD, Nana!’ muttered Daisy. Mum ignored her and turned to the overweight blonde woman, who was standing on the edge of the crowd, watching everything with her jaw slowly dropping lower and lower.
‘How are you these days, Sheila?’
‘Not so bad, Shirl. You’re looking well.’ Sheila looked at Camilla, who facepalmed and beckoned her over; she obviously didn’t want everyone else knowing what was going on. Sheila scampered over. ‘You have to know, my Martin didn’t know about any of this.’
‘What?’ said Martin. He looked utterly mortified by the turn things were taking, and I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. Families, huh? What are they like? ‘Know about what? Mum?’
Camilla took his arm. Seeing them standing next to each other now, looking closely at them, you couldn’t miss the family resemblance. Camilla was well groomed and pretty, whereas Martin was a bit of a scruff-bag, but if he had a decent haircut and a shave he probably could have passed as her brother, not just her cousin.
‘I’m sorry, Martin, but you know what it’s been like between my mother and yours. Even after she bought her the shop, they never really got on.’ Camilla looked around at us all, like she was desperate to make us understand. ‘My mother said that Aunt Sheila had never forgiven her for leaving her in this shi— this place. She said my aunt was jealous, but deep down I knew she felt guilty. So when she heard I was working on the roadshow and that we’d be coming to Cornwall, she asked me to help her make it up to Sheila.’
‘By fixing it so that her son won, and getting her café some great publicity at the same time.’ I looked at Sheila sternly. ‘And you were OK with this, were you? Letting him win by cheating, not on his own merit? Because if you had any confidence in him, you’d have realised that he probably could have won this under his own steam anyway. He’s a fabulous baker.’
Camilla sighed. ‘So what happens now? Are you going to tell everyone? I’ll lose my job.’
‘You probably should have thought of that before,’ said Nathan. ‘And Martin will be disqualified, of course.’
Elaine, who had been standing quietly all through this exchange, looked up.
‘Um, is that a good idea?’ she asked. We all turned to look at her in surprise, because I think we’d all almost forgotten she was there. She blushed. ‘The thing is, I love this show. The whole country does. If this comes out it’ll be a huge scandal, and the roadshow might not survive it. That means all the work we’ve done is pointless, and if the show gets cancelled, all those other bakers who are looking forward to their spot on the telly won’t get the chance to be in it. And it’s not a nice way for Esme to go out, is it? Maybe Camilla should be allowed to finish this season and then move on to pastures new? Pastures where there’s no family pressure to cheat. And Martin – well, Martin is an amazing baker, but quite frankly so are me and Jodie, so maybe the judges should just be left to make their decision in peace, on talent.’
‘It would mean all of you needing to keep quiet about this,’ Nathan said. Ever the policeman, I could tell he was reluctant to let Camilla and Martin off the hook. But I had to admit that Elaine had a point. The scandal would mean the end of the roadshow, and none of us wanted that.
‘That’s fine by me,’ I said. ‘Martin? Will you accept that?’ He was so relieved he almost squealed with joy.
‘Yes! Yes, definitely. Thank you.’
* * *
So the judges made their final deliberations. I knew Tony would be putting in a good word for me, for all his talk about being impartial, but I also knew it would probably make little difference and that the outcome would really be decided by Pete and Esme. My technical challenge had been incredible – both in how it had turned out, and that I’d managed to finish it at all – and my showstopper was probably the best cake I’d ever made. It tasted great, and it looked pretty good too. However, I didn’t really think my decorating skills were a match for my rivals’, and wouldn’t have been even without the distraction of looking for Harry’s killer.
‘And the winner is…’ Pete paused to look round at the assembled crowd, who had finally stopped gossiping about Camilla and Sheila’s plan long enough for filming to take place, and at the three bakers. I grinned at both of my rivals – my friends – and we reached out and held each other’s hands while we waited for the announcement, because we’d been through a lot together.
‘Elaine!’ announced Esme, and I was really happy for her because she deserved it, far more than I did. I felt a little bit sorry for Martin, but when I looked over at him he was smiling, and looked the most relaxed he had done all week. Maybe he’d realised that competitive baking wasn’t good for his nerves.
Chapter Nineteen
‘Never mind,’ said Nathan, pulling me into his arms. ‘You’re still my star baker.’
We were standing a little way away from the crowd, who were tucking into the buffet and the showstopper cakes, which had now all been cut up, ready for everyone to try.
I shrugged – which is tricky when you’re being hugged – and snuggled into him. ‘I’m not really that bothered,’ I said. ‘I never expected to win, anyway. I’m more concerned about solving Harry Dodds’s murder.’
‘Indira’s a blow-out,’ said Nathan. ‘I asked around and I think it’s safe to say she probably wouldn’t have worn a Catholic saint medal.’
‘No, I know,’ I said. ‘It was always a long shot, wasn’t it? But I’ve had a thought about Sarah Dodds…’
Nathan looked at me appraisingly. ‘You have, have you? I’ve had one, too.’
‘It was something Barbara said, about hearing it from the horse’s mouth. When you checked Sarah’s alibi, who did you talk to?’
‘The agency she works for. But it occurred to me that they would only know what she told them – that she spent the whole day with her client.’
‘You didn’t speak to the client?’
‘No. Which I think we need to remedy, don’t you? I can make a phone call.’ Nathan took out his phone. ‘No time like the present.’
‘Hang on.’ I put out a hand to stop him. ‘The other thought I had was about how she could’ve got down here, but still left her car outside the client’s house, where it was sure to be seen.’
‘What are you thinking?’
‘Well, the client apparently has good days and bad days, don’t they? Days when they can walk, and others where they’re all but bedridden. I was wondering if they had a car for those good days, when they can get out on their own, and whether it’s modified specifically for their disability or if anyone could drive it.’
‘Sarah Dodds could’ve taken their car,’ said Nathan thoughtfully. ‘You might be onto something there…’
Nathan wandered off to make a phone call, while I joined Mum and Daisy by the buffet. Germaine sat next to them, looking up at anyone who happened to approach the table. She was wearing the sort of expression that most people found hard to ignore, the sort that said they don’t feed me at home, please pass me a sausage.
‘I’m not falling for that one, Germaine,’ I said, reaching down and making a fuss of her.
‘You OK, love?’ asked Mum. ‘Not too disappointed about not winning?’
‘No, I’m fine. Elaine deserved it much more than me. Have you tried her cake? It’s amazing. So is Martin’s.’
‘I like yours best,’ said Daisy loyally, and I hugged her.
‘Thank you.’ I smiled up at Tony as he joined us.
‘Well, I did try to make you win…’ he said, and I laughed.
‘Yeah, I know. I appreciate it. But I couldn’t really, could I? Not after Martin realised we were friends.’
‘No, s’pose not. And I gotta admit that Elaine’s cake is fantastic.’
‘Better than mine?’
He grinned. ‘God yeah, tons better.’ I swung for him and he ducked. ‘What? I’m honest, ain’t I? Brought up not to lie.’
‘Whatever.’
Nathan approached me, putting his phone away. ‘Well that was interesting,’ he said. ‘The client, Mr Carter, says he thinks Sarah was there all day, but he was very ill and after she gave him his medication, he slept for most of the day.’
‘So she could have slipped out? Risky, though. What if he’d woken up and called for her?’
‘I thought that, too. So I asked him if any of the medication he was on causes drowsiness and he said not really, but he does sometimes suffer with insomnia and has some prescription sleeping pills.’
‘Could she have given him one without him noticing?’
‘Maybe. Plus he insisted on checking his medication while I was on the phone to him, and he thinks there are a couple missing. It sounds like he was in a bad way, so he may not have paid much attention to what she was giving him. Besides, he’s known her for some time and he trusts her, so he probably wouldn’t have questioned it anyway. And do you know how I know he trusts her?’
‘How?’
‘Because one day when she was visiting him her car broke down, and she had another call to get to, so…’
‘So he lent her his car?’
Nathan nodded. ‘Yup. I’ve told Matt to get onto our tech people, see if they can trace Mr Carter’s car on the day of the murder.’
‘How do they do that?’ asked Daisy, interested. ‘Do they have to look at speed cameras and that?’
‘That’s part of it,’ said Nathan. ‘But newer cars have telematics. That’s things like GPS trackers, even their entertainment systems and radios, where they automatically search for local traffic news. It proves where they’ve been.’ He turned to me. ‘Whether or not it proves Sarah Dodds was in the car, though, is another matter.’
‘There can’t have been many other people who had access to it, certainly not on that day,’ I said. ‘If the client had lent it to anyone else that day, he would have told you, wouldn’t he?’
‘I’d have thought so. But I always like to have evidence that actually puts someone on the spot, rather than just “they probably were”.’
‘Something no one can argue with,’ I said, nodding. I reached out and grabbed a piece of Elaine’s cake – it was magnificent, I couldn’t deny it – and held it up. ‘Anyway, you’ve done your bit now. Leave it to Matt and have some more cake.’
* * *
So Nathan did leave it to Matt, and stayed to celebrate with me. Elaine got a bit tipsy and spent the afternoon laughing and talking to just about everybody, while her husband looked on proudly and her kids joined Daisy and Debbie’s two, Matilda and George, in playing hide and seek around the tent, their hiding places instantly discovered by Germaine, who was having a marvellous time. Martin loosened up and actually chatted to me, and I realised that he’d been so wound up about winning that it had really affected his nerves. And having seen his mum – having seen that she’d not had the confidence in him to just let him compete and try to win on his own merit – I could understand it. He seemed almost like a different person now that the pressure was off.
Tony, as ever, had already made friends with everyone on the crew, and was now chatting to Shanice again. She seemed to be enjoying his flirting, but there didn’t seem much point in getting too friendly as she was going to be moving on. I took Tony’s charm offensive on her as a bit of fun, and a good sign that he was keeping his romantic options open. He had a big heart, a goofy smile and a daft sense of humour, and he deserved someone worthy of him.
Mum, meanwhile, was lording it up with Barbara, who did genuinely seem to enjoy her company. Takes all sorts, I thought, sniffily, but then I thought about Mum possibly moving out and felt a pang. She was embarrassing, she had a habit of going off at random tangents in the middle of a conversation, and the filter that stops most people saying exactly what they think without considering whether or not it was appropriate seemed to be missing from her brain; but she was warm, funny, occasionally surprisingly wise and, most of all, she was my mum. Why wouldn’t Barbara like her? Tony’s parents, who had come along to cheer me on and watch their son make his TV debut, gazed in awe as Mum and Barbara chatted away like they’d been besties for years, roaring with laughter and telling stories taller than the drag queen’s heels. I came to the conclusion that I actually liked Barbara more than Russell, but then I supposed we had kind of accused him of murder at one point, and had then damaged his relationship with Indira (hopefully not permanently, as I really liked her) by dobbing him in about his lunchtime roll in the hay with Laura Blake.
Nathan leaned in to kiss me. ‘Taking it all in?’ he asked, and I smiled.
‘Yes. Just thinking about how lucky I am to be here, and to have all these lovely people in my life.’
Daisy jogged over to us, Germaine at her heels. ‘Is it OK if I go back to Matilda’s? She’s asked me and Germaine to go and play at theirs.’
‘Of course, if that’s OK with her mum?’ I looked up as Debbie approached.
‘Yeah, it’s fine by me,’ she said. ‘Lovely to see them getting on so well, innit? She can stay for dinner and all if you like, give you two a bit of space.’ She turned to Daisy. ‘That’s if you don’t mind takeaway pizza…’
‘I LOVE takeaway pizza! Mum always makes her own—’ Daisy stopped and made an abrupt conversational U-turn. ‘Which is lovely, of course…’
I laughed. ‘Good save. Go on, have fun!’
Five minutes later Mum came over, flushed after holding court with Barbara.
‘Lovely spread, innit?’ she said, gesturing to the table. ‘Nice party. I think I’ve had enough now, though.’
‘That’s OK, we can go…’ I said, looking at Nathan, who nodded.
‘No no, you stay. Brenda and Malcolm are going home soon, I thought I’d go back with them for the evening, get you used to me not being around.’
‘God, Mum, don’t say it like that! You’re possibly moving out, not dying,’ I said.
‘You know what I mean. You two can have the house to yourselves,’ she said, winking at Nathan, who turned bright red. Bless him. She cackled. ‘I know what it’s like, having to keep the noise down in the bedroom. Me and your father—’
‘OK, enough! I’m not listening anymore. Off you go with the Penhaligons, have fun…’
