It was the day of William’s surprise party and Gilly was pleased. Everything had gone to plan. The cake looked perfect and she had arranged to deliver it early. All the clothes she planned to wear were clean and none of them needed mending. Even her hair had gone right when she’d washed it the previous day – never a given. Nothing could possibly go wrong.
As Gilly felt that complacency was never a good thing she used her day wisely. She made a shepherd’s pie for Helena and Jago (she thought of them as a couple although she was now convinced he was gay) and dusted all the bedrooms. She didn’t make up the beds with fresh linen as she was expecting her help, a young woman saving to go travelling, in the morning and it was so much quicker with two. Also, she had to keep reminding herself, the minibus was due to arrive at six thirty, which was quite early. You really couldn’t be late for a surprise party, she knew; you had to be there before the surprisee arrived.
It was just before six, when Gilly had had a change of mind about what jewellery she should wear and was in her bedroom inspecting her collection, when the doorbell rang.
Thinking it was a bit bloody early and that she would ask the bus to wait and that her current jewellery would have to do, she opened the door.
Instead of a minibus driver there was an anxious-looking couple in their late seventies. Her heart sank.
‘Can I help?’ she asked, just in case by some wonderful chance they were simply lost, or their car had broken down.
‘We’ve got here!’ said the woman, who seemed near tears. ‘There was a time when I thought we never would. We are booked in here for tonight, aren’t we?’
Gilly sighed. ‘Well, I don’t think you are, but never mind. I’ve got room.’
It took ages to get them settled and then, because they were too tired to go anywhere else, she made them omelettes and settled them in the guest sitting room with the heater and the television on. Ulysses, recognising a couple of cat lovers, had settled on the woman’s lap. The minibus had been and gone and now she had to drive to the party as fast as she could and hope she got there before William did.
As no one was hiding when she arrived and the function room was full of people, she realised she was too late. She went straight to the kitchen to find someone in charge.
The cake had been put on the trolley used for wedding cakes; it was being treated with the respect Gilly felt it deserved. It really was a very good cake. And once she had suspended a model glider over the landscape she was entirely satisfied.
‘That is an epic cake,’ said the venue manager. ‘The detail on it is amazing. We’ve been admiring it all day. If you fancied becoming a professional we would be happy to recommend you to clients.’
‘I think I’m happier with an amateur status, thank you,’ said Gilly. But she was really thrilled at his reaction.
‘There you are!’ said Daphne, bustling up in a vision of crushed silk in a bright olive colour that exactly matched the huge glass beads round her neck. ‘What happened?’
‘I am so sorry, Daphne. Some people turned up on the wrong day and I couldn’t turn them away.’ She was about to add that they were quite elderly but then realised they were probably the same age as Daphne.
‘Oh dear. Poor you. How awkward. And of course you can never turn anyone away. But you have made the most magnificent cake I have ever seen! I can’t decide what my favourite bit is. I think it’s the tiny swans swimming on the river.’ Daphne looked at the cake again. ‘And you’ve added a glider! Much more sophisticated than making one out of cake. I don’t know what I was thinking of when I suggested that.’
‘I did lots of those sorts of cake for my children when they were little but felt you couldn’t recreate the lightness of gliding, the flying sensation, if the wings were made with Victoria sponge.’
Daphne cackled with laughter. ‘Excellent! You sound like an artist! Oh, you’re wearing odd earrings. Is that a thing or is it a mistake?’
‘Definitely a thing,’ said Gilly, her hands flying to her ears to check what she was wearing in them. ‘It’s my artistic rebel streak.’
She wondered if the earrings were different enough from each other to look as if she’d done it on purpose. While she wasn’t opposed to people wearing odd earrings, it had to look on purpose and not just an accident. Hers were definitely an accident. Still, most people wouldn’t notice, she was sure.
‘Right,’ said Daphne, ‘we’ll do the cake. Some of the people here need to rush off.’
As they followed the cake, being pushed on its trolley by the hotel manager, Gilly asked, ‘So how did you find out who to invite?’
‘I got William’s mother to find his address book, which she did and posted to me. I must say it did seem a little bit old but it was all I had to go on so I just invited everyone in it.’
‘So his bank manager might be here?’ asked Gilly, laughing in spite of trying not to.
‘If his bank manager loves William enough to come then he’s welcome,’ said Daphne. ‘Now, here we are!’
Feeling chastened, Gilly moved backwards so she was at the rear of the crowd which was now gathering round the cake. Daphne found William, took hold of his wrist and brought him forward.
Gilly studied him for signs of stress, of being utterly miserable, but he seemed to have risen to the occasion quite well. He always dressed fairly formally so although he might have had to remove his tie to look party-ready, he did look very nice. Very nice indeed, Gilly thought, and realised she was probably biased. She couldn’t help wondering what ruse Daphne had come up with to make him come to the hotel.
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ said Daphne, ‘we are all gathered together to wish this young man a very happy birthday. But before we all make a hideous noise singing one of the dullest tunes in history, I think William would like to make a short speech.’
William looked around him easily, not rushing to speak but acknowledging his guests with a smile. ‘I think when my aunt said I would like to make a speech, she really means she thinks I ought to make one. While I’m not one for speeches normally I am very glad of the opportunity to thank you all so much for coming. It is really great to have this chance to catch up with old friends – people I haven’t seen for far too long.’
There were cheers and comments that indicated how fond his guests were of William and then there was the obligatory song.
Then Daphne bustled forward again. While she clearly adored William she didn’t really like being out of the limelight. ‘Now we’ve got that out of the way, I’d like to draw your attention to this wonderful cake! I think you should all have a good look at it before it’s cut.’
It seemed to Gilly, who was suddenly overcome with nerves, that everyone with a phone took a picture of the cake. All she wanted was for William to like it, and maybe to say so. Then she could have a quick drink and slip away.
She reckoned without Daphne.
‘Now,’ Daphne said, brandishing a large knife she had got from somewhere, ‘while this isn’t a wedding’ – pause for laughter – ‘it is an occasion and this magnificent cake, which I think is a work of art, recognises that. And I’d like to introduce you to the wonderful woman who made it. Gilly!’
Gilly’s hand was taken and she was dragged to stand in front of the cake next to William. She gave him an apologetic look and received a very amused one in return.
‘Right!’ said Daphne. ‘Cut the cake!’
The cry was taken up. ‘Cut the cake, cut the cake!’
Someone a bit more officious than the other guests came up with a proper camera and insisted on posing Gilly and William, both pairs of hands on the knife, looking at the camera before the first slice was cut.
‘I am so sorry about this,’ said William out of the corner of his mouth. ‘This is desperately embarrassing for you.’
‘I didn’t realise Daphne had organised a photographer.’ Gilly was talking out of the side of her mouth too.
‘Put your arm round her, William!’ called the photographer.
‘That isn’t an official photographer,’ he muttered. ‘I rather think he was in the gliding club at university. Haven’t seen him for about twenty years.’
‘But he came,’ said Gilly, remembering what Daphne had said.
‘Now could we get you to kiss?’ called the old friend from the university gliding club.
Gilly was expecting William to baulk at this but as the crowed joined in with the instruction, ‘Kiss, kiss,’ he put down the cake knife, took hold of her chin and kissed her.
She hardly heard the cheers that welcomed this as she accepted the kiss, which was short but full of intent.
‘I hope you don’t mind,’ said William afterwards. ‘Our public demanded it.’
‘I don’t mind at all,’ she said. ‘One should never disappoint one’s public.’
Daphne was in heaven. ‘I am so glad you two have got together! Some people may call me interfering but I call it helping love along!’ Then she moved away quickly, possibly sensing she’d gone too far.
‘I am so sorry!’ said William again. ‘I’ll go and explain. It’s one thing her interfering in my life but she mustn’t do it to you. I’ll tell her you’re with someone else.’
He started to go after Daphne.
It was now or never. Gilly caught hold of his jacket. ‘No! Don’t! I’m not with anyone.’
William stopped and then turned round slowly. Gilly was in agony, wondering if he would be embarrassed and awkward because he wanted her to be with someone. But when she saw he was smiling her panic subsided. His expression was amused and fond and, she realised, very pleased.
‘I’m so glad,’ he said. ‘Let’s go and find a drink. I don’t know about you, but I think it’s time!’
‘Excellent plan!’ said Gilly. She could pick up her car tomorrow and go back on the minibus tonight.
When they both had drinks, William went on a tour of the guests with Gilly at his side. Because they were all friends from a long time ago along with William’s fleet of aunts, no one was surprised to see Gilly. It obviously seemed normal that William should have a woman on his arm. A few enquired about the wedding, asking why they hadn’t been invited, but William explained that he and Gilly hadn’t been together that long. He patted her arm fondly, a bit possessively, and made her feel she was important to him. She realised how much she enjoyed feeling part of a couple after being on her own so long. Yet being with Leo hadn’t given her this warm sense of belonging.
‘Well, I think we’ve talked to everyone,’ said William after a little while. ‘It’s time for cake!’
Alert for this moment, a waiter came up with two plates and they found a sofa to sit on while they ate it.
‘It really is the most marvellous cake ever,’ he said. ‘I can’t believe I actually know someone who is so clever that they could make something so beautiful and so delicious.’
‘Thank you,’ said Gilly, pleased. ‘I’ve always felt it shouldn’t be a compromise between beauty – well, not exactly beauty, just detail really – and taste.’
‘I can’t believe anyone would take so much time and trouble to make one for me,’ William went on. ‘Daphne explained that she’d offered to get it made professionally but that you’d insisted on making it yourself.’
It wasn’t quite how Gilly remembered it. Daphne had definitely asked her to make it, but she realised it was all part of Daphne’s cunning plan to bring them together. ‘I do like making cakes. I haven’t done one like this though since my children grew up. Now I just make cakes to serve to my B & B guests, or fundraising events.’ She paused. ‘Although come to think of it, I do make them for Helena.’
‘Not your son?’
Gilly now felt a bit mean. ‘His wife isn’t a fan of cake.’
‘Oh,’ said William. ‘It must be hard to connect with someone who doesn’t like cake. For you, I mean. A fellow non-cake lover would find it easy, I suppose.’
‘Shall we have another drink before the minibus arrives to take us all home?’ suggested Gilly.
‘Yes to the drink, no to the minibus. We’ll get a taxi.’
