Eton Mess Massacre: Albert Smith's Culinary Capers Recipe 12 by steve higgs

Author:steve higgs [Higgs, Steve]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-08-05T04:00:00+00:00

In the marquee, Albert’s eyes flared at the rows of tables set out for the contestants. There were … he counted … eighty of them. The tables were set up with a set of kitchen scales, some bowls and basic utensils, plus a small refrigerator and an oven beneath. They were arranged in rows along the far wall of the marquee. To his right at one short end was a small, raised stage that could be more accurately described as a dais. Behind it curtains hid from sight what Albert imagined was an admin area. Opposite the contestants’ tables, where he was standing now, was a plastic barrier to corral the audience and it all surrounded an open area in the middle.

Albert swallowed hard.

Most of the tables already had a contestant behind or near them; people unpacking their ingredients and loading them into the refrigerator. No one was doing any preparation yet – the contest wasn’t starting until ten o’clock, and judges/officials were moving between the tables, beady eyes scrutinising what they were seeing.

“This is all a little more serious than I anticipated,” he squeaked. There were few things in the world that scared Albert, but mixing ingredients and putting them in an oven to produce food was one that always brought him out in a cold sweat. “This might not have been such a good idea.”

Sensing that her distraction tactic was about to reverse out of the marquee, Jessica placed a hand against the small of his back. She needed him.

“It will be fine, Albert. There're so many contestants here, no one will notice what you are up to.”

“But I'm supposed to make a meringue,” Albert gibbered. “That's right, isn't it? That's what the crunchy white stuff is called.”

Jessica pulled a face. Albert had said he wasn't particularly adept in the kitchen, but she hadn't appreciated just how limited his skills were. In fact, she had assumed he was being modest.

Reaching into her handbag, she said, “I tell you what I'll do, I’ll write a few instructions down for you to follow. I'm fairly sure there's nothing against that in the rules. The meringue is the hardest part of it, after all. If you get that bit right, the rest of it should be easy.”

Albert's eyes were showing altogether too much white for her liking. Tearing off a page of hastily scribbled instruction, she handed it over to be sure that he understood what it said.

Fumbling to find his reading glasses, Albert squinted at the page. His initial burst of uncharacteristic panic had subsided when he reminded himself that it really didn't matter whether he did a terrible job or not. He was not here to compete. More than anything, his purpose today was to watch Melissa Medina and be ready.

It was at that precise moment when a major flaw in the plan occurred to him. They wouldn't come for her in public, or at least they wouldn't do so visibly, but that didn't mean they would not attempt some form of subterfuge to lure her away.

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