her tip about chewing it then spitting it out. But there was no need as Saffron finally put down her plate. Then she ran her hand over the expensive sofa.
‘Have to say, I am rather impressed, young lady,’ said Vivian to me and raised her cupcake, a popping candy fizzing noise coming from her mouth. ‘This Malibu icing is delicious and the dessicated coconut’s texture just sets off the richness.’
‘Same for the brandy buttercream icing,’ said Kate and licked her thumb. ‘Good thing I’m not driving home.’
‘Don’t know what’s wrong with simple flavours nowadays,’ muttered Denise. ‘Go to buy a chocolate bar and you have the choice of about ten versions. And it’s impossible to understand the list of ingredients. One of our patients has a nut allergy and is always coming in with Mick Jagger lips, after eating something that’s been cross-contaminated and not clearly labelled’
‘Kimmy has an impeccable record,’ said Melissa, in her velvet tones. ‘I was lucky to find her.’
‘Who else have you catered for, dear?’ asked Vivian.
‘Um, most of the national team,’ I said, with an air of confidence, despite crossing my fingers. ‘And some footballers.’
‘Really?’ Saffron sat upright. ‘That’s mental!’
Vivian shook her head and smiled, as if to say the young woman would eventually grow out of being impressed by celebritydom.
‘I’m holding a hen night for my big sis this Friday,’ continued Saffron. ‘We’re having a buffet – you know, finger food, like on those frozen food supermarket adverts. You could give me your card. It’s not too late, is it? I’m thinking pink and glittery with her name on, and all the better if you have a recipe that’s low-cal… I saw one in Starchat last month for chocolate fudge cupcakes. They done a list of all the celebs eating healthy at the moment. Gluten-free cupcakes are the latest must-have,’ she said and shook back her bouffant blonde hair, as if she’d just made some important announcement.
Blimey. She sounded just like me yakking to Adam about the latest celebrity gossip. I passed her one of my, ahem, business cards – they were tucked in the pocket at the front of my apron.
‘It’s my niece’s seventh birthday in a few weeks,’ said Kate. ‘I’d love a boxful to take along, if you could theme them around Disney Princesses.’
‘Um… of course.’ I handed out another paper slip, successfully containing my excitement until I got back to the kitchen. Adam would be well impressed with this.
‘Open a bottle of champagne, will you, darling,’ said Melissa, as she appeared right behind me. ‘Everything okay?’
She’d caught me jumping on the spot, clapping my hands.
‘Just a bit of cramp.’ I grabbed a bottle out of the fridge, whilst she put some glasses on a tray.
‘I think these ladies need loosening up a bit before I bring out the Botox.’ Melissa grinned.
I carried the filled glasses through and Melissa encouraged them all to have at least a few sips.
‘Far too early in the day for me,’ said Denise and put down her glass.
‘Never too early, as far as I’m concerned,’ joked Kate.
‘So tell us, dear,’ said Vivian to Melissa, in a booming voice (maybe I’d overdone the Malibu). ‘Which charity are we supporting? How much would you like us to contribute for every cake we eat – or…’ she eyed the remaining Santa Coladas, ‘… buy to take home?’
Melissa cleared her throat. ‘You’ve probably been wondering who Sandra is, to-ing and fro-ing in her white coat.’ She nodded towards the conservatory at the end of the room, where the nail lady had just finished setting up.
‘I assumed she was your cleaner,’ said Denise. ‘We’d already met the gardener. It must be nice to have so much help.’
‘No. I mean I do have a cleaner but it’s her day off. Sandra’s… well perhaps she should explain.’
‘Is she a nurse?’ said Saffron. ‘You trying to help her raise money for new hospital equipment?’
Melissa waved to Sandra, who made her way past the gold birdcage and over to the plum sofa and chairs where the guests sat. I stood in the doorway, ready to bolt to the kitchen for more champagne if required.
‘Um, this isn’t exactly a charity fundraiser,’ said Melissa and beamed. ‘I thought I’d do all of you hardworking wives a favour instead. Sandra?’
The tiny woman gave a warm smile. ‘Good morning, ladies. I’m the answer to your prayers. Ever looked in the mirror and wondered who that was looking back? Ever bought a new outfit, had your hair done, and still felt inadequate? From behind her back she drew out her hand, her long red-nailed fingers grasping a needle. ‘Botox, ladies,’ she said. ‘It’s the easiest way to get the face that reflects the real you.’ She jerked her head towards Melissa’s portrait. ‘By the time I’ve finished with you, you could look almost as glamorous as the lovely Mrs Winsford.’
Smugly, Melissa folded her arms. This was her pièce de résistance. Er, yes, resistance, all right. Denise’s eyebrows knotted across so far they almost became one. Kate and Vivian’s mouths fell open.
‘Botox?’ they gasped, in horror.
‘You’ve got to be joking, Melissa. You brought me all this way under false pretences so that someone could inject a toxin into my face?’ Denise shook her head. ‘This isn’t as exciting as it might seem,’ she said to Saffron, who had sat bolt upright, eyes all sparkly.
‘Toxin’s a misleading word,’ said Sandra. She went over to Denise and put a hand on her shoulder. ‘And we all enjoy a few glasses of wine, but that’s not supposed to do your liver any good – what’s the difference? We can do it right here if you like. Just lean back and relax, deep breaths…’
Saffron glanced at the other ladies and her shoulders sagged. ‘Um, of course. Denise is right,’ she said and shook back her hair. ‘Anyway, who’s to say all of us need it, know what I mean?’
‘And even if we do,’ interrupted Vivian, ‘it’s cost me a lot of air miles and packets of Silk Cut getting my wrinkles. That’s quite an investment. Who wants to see the face of a twenty year old on the body of a gran?’
‘Might be a few sessions before we could knock that many years off you,’ muttered Sandra and brandished the needle.
‘It’s only a bit of fun,’ said Melissa. ‘Kate… You’re up for it?’
‘Sorry, hon, but how will I tell the kids off, if I can’t even frown?’
‘One of our patients had too much and it spread,’ said Denise, flinching as Sandra raised her needle. ‘It gave her temporary facial paralysis. Her cheek muscles were so badly affected, she couldn’t eat properly for weeks.’
‘She lost weight as well, then?’ said Melissa. ‘Bonus! Come on, ladies. It’s my treat and doesn’t hurt a bit. I mean, not that I’d know, but so I’m told.’ Her cheeks tinged pink.
‘Just relax,’ said Sandra to the doctor’s receptionist. ‘You’ll hardly feel a thing.’
Denise’s eyes narrowed. ‘Are you even properly trained? I don’t fancy placing my face in the hands of a nail technician.’
‘Like you’ve got a lot to lose,’ muttered Melissa.
‘I’ve been treating Mrs Wins… um, I mean, lots of clients, successfully for months,’ said Sandra.
Saffron did a poor job of suppressing a smile. ‘Wow, Melissa, babes, so the rumours are true. You must