music with a constant dance beat that he nodded and twitched his shoulders to. He didnât talk much, but he had a habit of winking at the camera just before slamming something in the oven.
But when I crossed the Coach House Café, I was quite taken aback. Daniel Denton was hunched over his coffee, scowling at a coiffured redhead who was brandishing a clipboard. He didnât look at all like his on-screen personality.
Jenny was at my side instantly.
âCome and meet Daniel and Portia,â she said breathlessly, grabbing my arm. âIsnât he divine? And those pale eyes, so beguiling; Iâve been a total fan girl ever since he arrived. And yes, I do know heâs married, but I canât help myself. Come and say hello and please pinch me if I say anything inappropriate.â
I did as I was told and followed Jenny to where Portia was arranging copies of her husbandâs books in a fan shape on the table.
âWill you sign one of your books for me now in case we run out?â Jenny asked once the introductions had been made. She delved into her pockets for her money.
I bit the inside of my cheek to hide my smile; she was so star-struck that she could barely meet his eye and her face had turned a deep shade of pink, which toned beautifully with her aubergine-coloured hair.
âSure,â Daniel replied flatly, picking up a black pen.
âAnd weâve bought DVDs as well,â said Portia. âDonât forget to sell those too, Daniel.â
He sighed by way of response.
âSo what do you think of Wickham Hall, Daniel?â I asked, undaunted by his lack of interest.
âYeah, great,â Daniel muttered.
âIt is sweet,â Portia conceded, casting a glance around the café. âAlthough, youâre lucky to get Daniel at a venue like this. Weâre only here for some practice in front of a live audience. This time next year weâll be aiming much higher.â
Charming.
I heard Jenny exhale through her nose and I was slightly concerned she was going to say something that we all would regret when Danielâs chair gave a screech as he pushed it back and stood up.
âI need some air,â he grunted before stomping out of the café.
Jenny and I exchanged looks but Portia just smiled smoothly and handed Jenny her change.
âMy goal,
our
goal,â she corrected herself, âfor next year is to break into the live food show circuit â London, Glasgow, Manchester. They all have a big reach and I think theyâll build his brand in a more experiential way than TV. His public need to meet him in the flesh.â
âAbsolutely,â I said. Whatever experiential meant.
âExcuse me,â said Portia with a tight smile. âIâll go and retrieve him.â
Jenny and I watched her leave the café and scan the courtyard for her errant celebrity husband.
âHeâs a bit . . . well, sullen,â I said cautiously.
âHmmm,â said Jenny, biting her lip. âAt first I thought he was just remaining aloof, like stars do, you know. He was more responsive when we had a run-through of the schedule and he was very complimentary about the ingredients for todayâs dishes. He said heâd never seen such a plump goose.â
âSheâs got him, look,â I said with relief, as Portia and Daniel, hand in hand, arrived back. They looked frozen.
âPhew,â Jenny breathed. âWeâre supposed to be starting any minute.â
Tickets to our celebrity chef demonstration had included a tour of the Wickham Hall Christmas decorations first so that all guests, including my mum, would arrive at the café at the same time and right on cue, at twelve oâclock, Marjorie opened the door that led from the hallâs main corridor and Danielâs audience flocked in.
âWelcome, welcome,â cried Jenny, extending her arms, âto Wickham Hallâs first ever celebrity cooking
Margaret Atwood
Wolf Wootan
Carolyn Keene
Dani-Lyn Alexander
Suzanne Macpherson
Kathleen O’Neal
John Ballem
Robin Stevens
Kelly Cherry
Claire Fenton