Last-Minute Proposal

from the table a minute, I’ll wipe up the extraordinary mess you’ve created’. The worst thing is, I think I’m going to miss it. [Sighs]

Anyway…he’s learnt how to make a sponge. The thing about Campbell is that he’s really focused. If he decides he’s going to do something, he’ll do it. He’d never admit it, but I think he might be a bit nervous about Cleo’s cake. It’s a difficult design. Too difficult for a beginner, but he’s determined to get it right. I hope he does. I’m not supposed to have anything to do with it, but I’ll be around to give advice until I have to go to the wedding ceremony at three. There’s a small reception afterwards, but the cake is for the party in the evening, so I’ll come back after that and hopefully the cake will be all ready to go.

And then that’ll be it. It’s going to be…strange. But of course, Campbell has got his new job to go to, and I’ve got a business to run. [Stops, swallows] It’ll be for the best, I know, but I hate saying goodbye.

‘You won’t forget the asp, will you?’ It was the morning of Cleo’s wedding, and Tilly was supposed to be getting ready for the ceremony, but she kept popping down to the kitchen where Campbell was making cakes with military precision.

‘Stop flapping,’ he said, exasperated. ‘I’m the one that’s supposed to be nervous here! It’s all under control. Look!’ He waved the time plan he had plotted minute by minute at her and checked his watch. ‘Right now cakes five and six are supposed to be in the oven, and there they are, see,’ he said, pointing at the oven. ‘I’m going to take them out at thirteen ten.’

‘I don’t like all this precision,’ Tilly fretted. ‘This isn’t a mission that can be planned down to the last second. The cakes will be ready when they’re ready. Remember what I told you about the skewer? Keep an eye on them rather than the clock, that’s all I’d say.’

Campbell wished she would go away. Quite apart from the fact that she was casting doubt on his plan, of which he was secretly very proud, she was far too distracting standing there in a faded towelling robe, with her hair wrapped up in a towel and her face clean and rosy from the shower.

She smelt of baby powder. It was all too easy to imagine pulling her towards him by the belt of her robe, shutting her up with a kiss while he untied it in one easy move so that he could slide his hands beneath the material to explore her lush body. She would be warm and sweet and clean.

Snarled up with longing and frustration, Campbell wished she wasn’t standing between him and the sink. He could do with putting his head under the cold tap. As it was, he would have to pass her to do that, and he couldn’t trust himself that close.

Ever since that kiss, he had been achingly aware of her. Again and again he had had to remind himself of all the reasons why he shouldn’t touch her, but the reasons were sounding thinner with every day that passed.

He did his best to concentrate on the future, on the challenge of his new job and the move to New York but whenever he tried to imagine what it would be like, all he could picture was life without Tilly, quiet and cold and empty.

It was absurd. What was he thinking? Campbell demanded, exasperated with himself. That he should give up his career, his plans, the chance to turn round a company and make it a global leader again? Drop out of the race just before the finishing line? Of course he couldn’t do that, and if he wouldn’t contemplate any of that, it would hurt Tilly.

And that was something Campbell wasn’t prepared to do.

‘Shouldn’t you be getting ready?’ he asked her pointedly.

‘Yes, I’d better go and dry my hair.’ She looked anxious. ‘Are you sure you’re OK?’

‘Everything’s fine.’

If only it were, Campbell thought as she whisked out of the kitchen and he could let out a long, very careful, breath at last. Right then everything felt as if it might slip out of control any minute, and that wasn’t a feeling he liked at all.

Squaring his shoulders, he turned his attention back to his time plan. Focus, that was all he needed to do. It had always worked for him in the past and in a lot more difficult situations than this. It would work now.

It was hard to focus, though, when Tilly reappeared at last, spilling out of a deep aqua-blue suit. A bag was wedged under her arm while she fastened her earrings.

‘OK, I’m off,’ she said, her face intent as she fiddled with the second stud.

Her outfit wasn’t particularly daring. It had a cropped jacket, nipped in at the waist, and a lacy camisole gave modesty to the plunging neckline. A flippy skirt ended at the knee. Her shoes were precipitously heeled, true, with ridiculous bows. Otherwise, it was the kind of outfit you would expect a woman to wear to a wedding.

So there was no reason for Campbell to feel as if his head was reeling. He actually had to close his eyes.

‘What’s the matter?’

He snapped them open to find that Tilly had sorted out her earrings and was watching him. ‘Nothing,’ he said tightly. ‘Nothing at all.’

She wasn’t satisfied, but made matters worse by coming closer and peering at him. ‘You look as if you’re in pain.’

If only she knew! ‘I’m fine.’ Campbell managed a controlled smile. ‘Just thinking about what needs to be done.’

Like take a cold shower.

‘Well, if you’re sure…’ Tilly checked her bag. ‘Now, you’ve got the design?’

‘Yes, yes,’ he said impatiently.

‘And you haven’t forgotten about piping the names on the side of the barge, the way we discussed? Make sure you spell them right, too. It’s all noted on the design. Do you think I should check it quickly?’

‘No,’ said Campbell. ‘I think you should go. You’ll be late.’

Tilly looked at her watch and squeaked with dismay. ‘God, yes, I will be…’ Grabbing the keys to the van, she hurried to the door. ‘I’ll be back later,’ she called on the way out of the room. ‘Good luck!’

By the time she returned, Campbell had himself well under control. He just had to keep his hands to himself for a few more hours. He could do that. Look, he had even made a wedding cake, and if he could do that, he could do anything!

He had to admit that he was secretly very proud of the cake. It looked just like Tilly’s sketch. Sitting on top of the cake base was the cake Cleopatra’s cake barge, complete with a cake Antony, dressed as a Roman general, and even a cake asp, curled ironically in a corner. Authenticity had suffered with the tin cans trailing off the back and the large sign with ‘just married’ iced carefully on to it, but all in all it was pretty damn impressive, Campbell thought.

He could hardly believe that he had made it himself.

He was changed and ready to go as soon as Tilly got back. That was what you could do when you stuck to your time plan.

Tilly’s face when she came into the kitchen and saw the finished cake was everything Campbell could have hoped for.

‘Oh, Campbell, it’s fabulous!’ she cried. ‘Well done! I know we talked about it but it’s so different when you see it made up. Wait till Cleo sees it! She’s going to be so thrilled,’ she said as she walked round the table to inspect the cake more closely. ‘This is bound to win!

‘It’s incredible to think that a fortnight ago you didn’t even know how to make a basic sponge,’ she told him admiringly. ‘I’m so proud of you! This is going to be the highlight of the party tonight and-’

She stopped.

‘What?’ asked Campbell.

‘The names on the side of the barge,’ she said in a hollow voice.

‘What about them?’

‘You’ve spelt Anthony wrong.’

‘I have not!’ Campbell was outraged at the suggestion. ‘I made a point of checking.’

‘Not against my design.’ Tilly snatched up the sketch-book and thrust it at him. ‘How is Anthony spelt there?’

‘With an “h”.’

‘Yes, and it’s spelt with an “h” because that’s how Anthony spells his name, so why have you spelt it without