Last-Minute Proposal

Ah.

How was she supposed to respond to that? Tilly wondered. Clearly Campbell regretted the kiss and had no intention of repeating it, so she could hardly force herself upon him now. Her heart twisted at the realisation, but the only thing to do was put a good face on it.

At least it wouldn’t be difficult. She had years of experience of being ‘good old Tilly’ who could be relied upon to dispel any potential awkwardness with a smiling face.

‘It must have been that wine,’ she said lightly. ‘I don’t think either of us was thinking clearly on Friday evening. That’ll teach you to leave the choice up to the wine waiter!’

There was no mistaking the relief in Campbell’s expression. He had obviously been dreading a scene, or that she might do exactly what she had been planning to do and throw herself at him.

‘It’s good of you to take it like that,’ he said. ‘I’d be sorry if I had spoiled things between us.’

‘There’s no question of that,’ said Tilly, keeping her bright smile firmly in place.

‘I was afraid I might have jeopardised our chances on the programme.’

Of course, the programme. Tilly had almost forgotten about that. It was telling that Campbell hadn’t. He might be momentarily distracted by a kiss, but he would never lose sight of his ultimate goal.

‘The only thing that will really jeopardise them is if you can’t make Cleo’s cake,’ she told him and he grimaced.

‘I know. It’s harder than I expected,’ he admitted.

Convincing herself that it was all for the best was harder than Tilly had expected, too. No matter how fiercely she reminded herself that he was leaving soon, or that he was still hung up on his ex-wife, disappointment still twisted painfully inside her. She made herself remember how much it had hurt when Olivier had gone, of how much better off on her own she would be in the long run, but none of it helped.

There was nothing to be done but keep the smile on her face, but it was feeling fixed by the time first Seb and then Harry appeared, yawning and rubbing their rumpled hair. In spite of their hangovers, they brightened considerably at Tilly’s suggestion that they take Campbell to the pub while she finished getting lunch ready.

Campbell was all set to demur. ‘We can’t leave you alone to do all the work,’ he protested.

‘Honestly, it’s better if we do,’ Seb confided, and Harry nodded vigorous agreement. ‘She’ll just get ratty if we hang around.’

‘We could help,’ Campbell suggested, but they only looked at him as if he had sprouted a second head.

Tilly rolled her eyes. ‘Their idea of “helping” was to send me off for a weekend in the Highlands and look where that got me! No, you go,’ she told him. ‘Seb’s right, you’ll all just get in the way. There’s not much more to do, in any case.’

She was desperate to get rid of them and have a few minutes to herself so that she could stop putting on a front.

Seeing that she was serious, Campbell let himself be persuaded, and the three men walked down to the local pub together. Tilly’s brothers were very young but engaging company, and they were obviously very fond of their sister.

Over a beer, they told him all about Olivier. ‘What a tosser!’ said Harry dismissively. ‘I’m glad Tilly isn’t with him any more, but she was really cut up about him. She deserves better.’

Seb nodded. ‘I mean, we give her a hard time, of course, but she’s done everything for us. She stayed in Allerby and worked so that we could have a home and now we’ve gone we think it’s time she got out and had a life for herself. That’s why we put her up for this television thing. We thought it would be good for her. Left to herself, she’d just stay stuck in her kitchen and the truth is we don’t like to think of her being on her own.’

‘No,’ his twin chimed in. ‘Tilly needs someone to love, and she’s not going to find anyone if she doesn’t go out and look. The trouble is, she’s got lousy taste. Knowing her, she’ll just end up with another loser like Olivier!’

That made Campbell feel even worse about kissing her the other night. He had acted purely on instinct, and he had been taken aback by how sweet she had tasted, how good it had felt to hold her in his arms-how right it had seemed.

It had been a huge effort to make himself stop but, if he hadn’t, there was only one way it could have ended. Rather late in the day, Campbell had remembered how honest Tilly had been about not wanting to get involved. She had been badly hurt, he had known that, and she deserved better than a Friday night fumble.

He should have had more control, Campbell blamed himself austerely. He didn’t like to think about how thoughtless he had been. It wasn’t like him to lose sight of what was what. Perhaps Tilly was right, and the wine was to blame?

Whatever the reason, he had felt stupidly nervous about seeing her again today. He’d been afraid that she would have been embarrassed about the kiss, and awkward about telling him that she didn’t want a repetition-as she clearly didn’t. At least he had got in first with his apology to save her having to find the words. It had seemed the least he could do.

It was all sorted, anyway. He had taken evasive measures, a potentially difficult situation had been resolved, and all he had to do now was make that damn wedding cake. Then he could leave to get on with the rest of his life. It was the right thing to do for both of them.

So why didn’t it feel right?

Campbell’s video diary:

[Clears throat] I’ve been reminded to record this tonight, as there’s only one more day to go. Tomorrow I’ve got to make Cleo’s wedding cake, assemble it, decorate it and get it to the hotel in time for the party in the evening. I’ve planned much more difficult missions in my time, but I’ve got to admit this is the one I feel most nervous about. Cleo wants lemon sponge cake, so it has to be made fresh, and that means I don’t get a trial run. But I’m sure it will be fine. I’ve been practising. Tilly has showed me how to cut the cake into blocks and then assemble them in the right shape, and I’ve learnt how to ice and use a piping bag-which I have to say I never thought I would hear myself say! Tilly is a good teacher. Very good, in fact.

There’s much more to the cake-making business than I realised. I’ve seen how Tilly makes a real connection with people, not just when it comes to the design and what’s likely to be suitable, but when she’s delivering the cakes. [Relaxing as forgets camera and pursues own thoughts] I think her brothers may be wrong about her being stuck in the kitchen. It seems to me that Tilly is out all the time and that she knows a lot of people.

Yesterday, for instance, we went to the hospice she’ll donate her cheque to if we win. It was quite an experience. I’d never been anywhere like it before. I expected it to be a depressing place, to be honest, but it wasn’t. It felt bright and light and peaceful and I felt…[Pause, searching for the right word]…well, I suppose I was moved. Yes, moved.

Tilly was quite at ease there. She seemed to know everyone, but she told me afterwards that she didn’t. I think people respond to her warmth. There’s a kind of brightness about her…[Abruptly recollects camera] Anyway…well, I can see how much winning would mean to the hospice, so I’d better make Cleo a good cake tomorrow and make sure we get the maximum number of points.

I can’t see why we shouldn’t. I’ve done a bit of research and got a picture of an ancient Egyptian barge and the costumes and so on. I even had a look at the play. Tilly drew up a design and kept it as simple as possible, but it’s still going to be tricky. I’ll be glad when tomorrow’s over.

[Stops, realises that hasn’t sounded very sure] Yes, of course I will be. I need to get back to work. I’ve got things to do. I want the cake to be a success tomorrow, but then it will be time to say goodbye.

Tilly’s video diary:

[Pushes hair tiredly from face] I can’t believe it’s almost over. Campbell has just gone back to his hotel for the last time. He’ll be back tomorrow to make Cleo’s cake, but then he’s leaving. It’s funny to think how much has changed since the last time I recorded this diary. Campbell’s changed-or maybe it’s just that I’ve got to know him better. Or maybe I’m the one that’s changed.

The kitchen won’t be the same without him. I mean, he can be really irritating. He insists in clearing up immaculately-and I mean immaculately-every five minutes, which I know is a good thing, and I should do that, too, but sometimes when you’re doing a tricky bit of piping you don’t want someone asking, ‘Have you finished with the sugar because I’ll put it away if you have?’ or, ‘If you just stand away