to pull off to perfection, and said, ‘You’re going to be amazing, Libby. Because it will never be worse than this,’ and she had felt for the first time that someone completely believed in her. In retrospect she realised it was probably just a line to get her into bed. But from that moment on, she had felt stronger when he was next to her.
And there had been more supper clubs. Hundreds more. They’d built a business out of it. And Jake had taken over as host—greeting the guests, entertaining them over canapés, topping up wines, tipping back in his chair and observing as she put the plates down in front of them, detailing the subtle touches that gave her mini venison wellingtons their hint of caramel, or explaining the origin of a bouillabaisse and how hers also included the often overlooked sea urchin and spider crab. He would subtly nudge her on the thigh if he thought she was going on too much and say something like, ‘We’re here for the food, darling, not the science bit.’ And the guests would chuckle as he winked at her or gave her a quick pat on the bum.
Libby was better when she could do things in her own time. When she could delete and edit. She wasn’t a spontaneous ice breaker or joke cracker.
‘Ready when you are, Libby,’ Jimmy said, snapping her into the present. ‘I can’t actually remember the last time I cooked anything.’
‘What do you eat?’ Jessica asked, glancing up, perplexed. ‘Do you gnaw on raw fish grabbed with your bare hands from the ocean?’
Jimmy did a self-assured chuckle. ‘I grab them, CeeCee cooks them.’
Jessica sighed. ‘Oh god, who the hell’s CeeCee?’
‘She lives with me on the boat.’
Eve reached forward and picked up the laminated recipe sheet Libby had laid out on every bench. She glanced casually over the type as if she wasn’t really listening but gave herself away by saying, ‘As in, she’s your girlfriend?’
Jessica glanced from Eve to Jimmy, a brow raised, a slight smile on her lips. She moved her recipe to the side so she could perch up on the bench.
Jimmy tilted his head to one side. ‘We have no need for formal ownership descriptions.’
Jessica snorted. ‘Oh, Jimmy, you’re not serious?’
‘I am!’ He grinned. ‘We have a boat, we live on it, both of us are free to come and go as we please.’
‘Who owns the boat?’ Dex asked.
Jimmy paused. ‘She owns the boat,’ he said with a shrug.
Jessica laughed. ‘I bet she does.’
Libby found herself anxious to stop the chat, unable to enjoy it because this was meant to be a class. She could see Giulia tapping her fingers on the surface at the back.
‘So if this CeeCee wasn’t there when you got back, you wouldn’t mind?’ Eve asked, putting her recipe sheet down on the bench, unable to hide her interest.
‘Well, technically he’d have to mind because the boat would be gone too,’ said Jessica.
Jimmy shrugged. ‘As I say, free to come and go as we please.’
‘No ties,’ Eve said.
Jimmy shook his head with a smile. ‘None. At the moment we are in each other’s lives. In six months maybe we won’t be. Come on,’ he said, holding his hands out wide, ‘you gotta admit that’s a more interesting way to live?’
Eve’s phone rang. She looked surprised by the interruption and then started to rummage through her bag on the floor. ‘Oh, that’s me. Where is it? God. Hi, Noah! Everything OK?’
As Eve admired another Lego dinosaur on FaceTime, Jessica took the opportunity to get her phone out again, saying, ‘I just need to reply to a couple of emails.’
Jimmy leant back on his stool and started saying something to Dex that made him laugh loudly. Miles turned to see what was being said.
‘Are we going to cook or not?’ snapped Giulia, and they all seemed to remember where they were.
‘Yes! Yes, we are, sorry,’ Libby said, cringing at what it all must seem like to Giulia. She imagined Jake watching, rolling his eyes. She was confident that he would have somehow effortlessly combined the cooking and the banter.
Eve whispered goodbye to Noah and hung up the phone. Jessica, never good at being told what to do, sucked in her cheeks as if she’d been reprimanded by the head teacher and gave Giulia a glare before putting her phone back in her pocket.
‘OK, something really simple today, nothing taxing at all. We’re going to start with the humble biscotti.’
‘Oh, I like that,’ said Jimmy. ‘Ties in nicely with the name. Good one.’
Libby nodded. ‘That’s what I was hoping. You know, people would arrive, maybe be a bit tired, and it’d be a nice introduction to the whole thing. Not daunting.’
Giulia sighed from the back row. ‘The baking. Yes. More baking, less talking. We get it done, I get back to work.’
Eve giggled under her breath.
‘Yes, sorry,’ said Libby. ‘Sorry, Giulia.’ She made a mental note to try not to include her in any of her future classes. ‘Right, so you’ve got a choice here. I’ve given you the basic ingredients but you can flavour your biscotti however you like. I like dried apricots but you can use chocolate, pistachio—traditionally it was aniseed and hazelnut—it’s completely up to you. Or just make it plain. The main thing to a biscotti, and actually the meaning behind its name, is that it’s twice baked.’
‘Do I like biscotti?’ asked Jimmy.
‘Yes,’ said Eve, without looking up from where she had started to break her eggs. Libby caught Jessica’s eye. Eve glanced up and caught them sharing a look. She raised a brow in silent question and both Libby and Jessica looked away.
‘Hang on, Eve’s started.’ Jimmy frowned. ‘How has Eve started? Are we meant to have started?’
‘Well, you can start, Jimmy, because there’s a recipe, but I’ll talk you through it.’
‘Jessica, have you started?’
‘No.’ Jessica was eating an apricot.
‘And I am almost finished,’ added Giulia from the back. ‘This is very easy. Too easy I think. Far too easy.’
‘It is?’ Jimmy looked confused.
‘OK, right, everyone, go with me on this. We’re mixing flour, baking powder and sugar. The measurements are on your recipes and the ingredients are under your benches.’
Jessica leant forward on the bench, resting on her elbows, and perused the recipe. Next to her Eve had already started mixing in the eggs. Jimmy was looking perplexed at the ingredients and, without consulting the recipe at all, ripped open a bag of flour so it mushroomed out like a cloud in front of his face.
‘Suits you,’ Dex said, nodding towards Jimmy’s white face.
Jimmy groaned and wiped the flour away with a tea towel. ‘Libby, it’s no good. I don’t think I’m cut out for this.’
‘You’ll be fine, honestly, I’ll come and help,’ Libby said, coming to stand next to him. Jimmy pulled up his stool and she realised, as she started to measure out his ingredients, that he had no intention of doing any more himself. ‘Jimmy, what flavour do you want?’
He shrugged. ‘Don’t know.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Look, you have to help me.’
‘I’ll just mess it up,’ he said with a twinkling grin.
‘But the whole point is that you learn. Here, get your hands in and mix this into a dough,’ she said, sliding the bowl over to where he was sitting.
Jimmy made a face to suggest