The Captain and the Baker

by Catherine Curzon

  Together they counted down to the moment of truth. And even before Jake opened the door, he knew that it was going to be a triumph. It had the scent of one, that was for sure.

  “Wahey!” Jake cheered as he opened the oven and steam curled from the door. The pasty, perfect and golden, was waiting inside like a piece of treasure. He took out the tray and put it down on the table. “Now that’s one handsome fucking pasty!”

  “Perfect!” Locryn announced as the crowd gave a hearty cheer. And it certainly looked it, there was no denying that. “Do you think we should invite the bride and groom to sample our efforts before the seagulls swoop and carry them away?”

  “Yes!” Jake gestured Zoe and David to come forward. “Over here, bride and groom.”

  David had his arm around Zoe’s waist and drew her to the table. “It looks great!” David said. Forks were handed over and the pastry broken, sending a fresh plume of steam swirling upward into the clear blue of the autumn sky. And when the moment came, of course Zoe and David fed each other. They were well versed in the rules of the almost-wed by now.

  Jake stroked his chin, watching for their reactions. Their eyes were wide, either in disgust or a transport of delight.

  Please don’t hate it.

  “Oh!” Zoe exclaimed, the sound causing David’s eyes to grow wide for a telling second. “That is— I’ve never tasted anything like this. Dave?”

  David had snuck a second a mouthful and was nodding with energy while wafting his hand in front of his mouth as if he were trying to cool it. So he gave a thumbs-up. Then another, with such enthusiasm that Jake suspected he’d have tried to give thumbs-up with his big toes if he hadn’t been wearing shoes.

  “David, Zoe”—Jake looked from one to the other—”is this the pasty you want to have at your wedding reception?”

  “I want to have it for every dinner until then as well!” Zoe scooped up another forkful and paused with it halfway to her lips. “You two—this is the most gorgeous pasty I’ve ever had!”

  Jake put his arm around Locryn’s shoulder. “That is fucking brilliant. Thank you!”

  “That’s marvelous! Splendid!” Locryn beamed, which was as close to ‘fucking brilliant’ as he was ever going to get, Jake guessed. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jake pulled up outside the cottage with Dorothy in her carrier.

  “We’re going to see Uncle Locryn. And you must behave and not riot with his donkeys, got that?”

  Dorothy had turned her back on him.

  Jake waved through the window as he walked up to the front door, Dorothy in his other hand. She was on her feet now and the carrier lurched as she moved inside it. The door opened before he had even reached the end of the path and there was Locryn, his smile warm and welcoming.

  “Hello! Dorothy, you missed the goats.” He kissed Jake’s cheek. “They’ve gone off to bed, but I have a lovely fresh fillet of haddock ready and waiting for our girl.”

  “You’ve just made her day. And now you’ve made mine.” Jake kissed Locryn’s cheek and stepped inside his cottage.

  Locryn closed the door and Jake was greeted afresh by the scent of baking bread and flowers, just as he had been at his own house when Locryn was on cat-sitting duties. After a few more seconds spent cooing and fussing over Dorothy, Locryn said, “And because I suspect we’ll be doing lots of tasting tonight, I thought a simple supper? I’ve baked that baguette you wanted and there’re some lovely Cornish cheeses and my own pickles and chutney. Which isn’t a euphemism, it’s just chutney.”

  “Fruity, is it, like you?”

  “Fruity?” Locryn’s eyebrow shot up. “I like that, it suits me.”

  “Fruitier than a Porthavel orchard!” Jake put down the cat carrier and pulled Locryn into his arms, one hand stroking through Locryn’s hair. “Kiss me, my fruity baker.”

  And of course Locryn obliged, with all the heat and passion that he hid beneath his gingham veneer of ‘fiddlesticks’. He slipped his arms around Jake’s waist, his hands sliding into the back pockets of Jake’s jeans, then kissed him right back into the closed door.

  How Jake loved Locryn’s bursts of lust, and he let Locryn push him against the door, giving himself over to all the strength in his boyfriend’s toned body. In her carrier Dorothy voiced her loud complaints at the delay in her supper, but Locryn wasn’t about to be deterred. He squeezed Jake’s bottom through the denim as they kissed, massaging with the tips of his fingers.

  All that experience kneading bread came in handy, it seemed. Jake slid his hand up inside Locryn’s shirt, stroking his smooth back and feeling the gentle pull of his muscles.

  “We have to plan a wedding and a romance,” Locryn murmured even as he roamed his lips over Jake’s jaw. “But all I want to do is go to bed with you.”

  “Don’t tempt me.” Jake groaned as he drew his hand out from Locryn’s shirt. “The sooner we get this sorted, the sooner we can test out your mattress springs.”

  “Yes, Captain.” Locryn smiled as he took a step back. “Come and try my baguette? It’ll help you muse on menus and matchmaking.”

  “If it’s as good as all your other baking, then this is going to be a bloody brilliant baguette!”

  Jake crouched down and opened the cat carrier’s door. Dorothy ran out and headed straight for Locryn’s kitchen. With his hand in Locryn’s, Jake followed, and there on the table was a simple feast, just as Locryn had promised.

  “Dorothy first, of course,” Locryn told Jake as he escorted him to the fridge. “Help yourself to wine then grab a seat while I flake madam’s fish!”

  Jake took a bottle of white wine from Locryn’s well-stocked, neat fridge and he filled the two glasses that were waiting for them on the table. As he sipped, he looked over a packet of cheese that Locryn had put out for them. “Is that goat’s cheese? From your goats?”

  “The Trevorrow goats have to earn their keep!” Locryn looked down at Dorothy, who was winding around his legs, purring loudly. As soon as her china plate of fish was on the tiles she plunged into it, leaving Locryn to join Jake at the table. With a flourish he pulled back a blue gingham tea towel, and there beneath it was the fabled baguette. “Baked especially for my sweary chef.”

  Jake leaned down and paused a couple of inches above the perfect loaf. He sniffed and was transported to France, to a simple village bakery he’d visited once, where they’d let him loose on their baked goods. It hadn’t done much for Anglo-French relations, perhaps, but Jake could smell an authentic baguette when one crossed his path, and Locryn’s was perfect.

  “Parfait, mon dear Locryn!” Jake said, without a trace of a French accent. In reply Locryn handed him a gleaming bread knife.

  “Do the honors, darling, then let’s get plotting.”

  Jake sawed into the loaf, carving each of them thick hunks of bread. Then he drew back his chair and ate a piece bare, savoring the taste. “That’s amazing. I can tell it’s one of yours, but it’s still like a proper baguette. Fucking hell.”

  And Locryn beamed so broadly Jake could positively feel the warmth from his smile. “Not very Cornish, but it never hurts to broaden one’s horizons!”

  Jake began to load a slice with cheese and chutney. He was in his element, surrounded by tastes and textures.

  “Good Lord, this is fucking amazing! Do you make this cheese? And is there any spare for my restaurant?” Jake smacked his lips. “Would make a great special!”

  “There’s a little cheese producer a couple of miles inland and I learned the ropes from them but now I fly solo,” Locryn replied. “Quite a few of the farms around here make cheeses, so every cheese we’ve got tonight is fresh, local and simple. Because that’s the Captain Jake way!”

  “Too bloody right!” Jake raised his glass. “So that’s local cheese well and truly on the menu in my restaurant. Hmmm…goat’s cheese tart or mini soufflé on the wedding menu as the vegetarian option? Would the Porthavelans go for that, Loc?”<
br />
  “Soufflé feels more of an event but it’s still Porthavel-friendly.” Locryn carved off a small piece of cheese. “Aren’t they an adorable couple? Jory would’ve been so happy to see what a remarkable young lady Zoe’s become.”

  “Mini soufflé it is!” Jake took another bite of bread. “They are a lovely pair. Do you think Zoe will go off and have her own café one day?”

  Locryn opened one of the pots of chutney and Jake caught its rich tang, conjuring up a world of village greens and afternoon tea. Locryn’s world.

  “I think she should, but she says she doesn’t want to leave the café. She really grew up there with Merryn after she lost her dad.” Locryn dug a spoon into the jar. “But I’ve been wondering about the café myself. It’s the baking that I love. Running the café day to day takes me away from that so…don’t you think it’s time I appointed a new manager? Someone who knows and loves the place as much as I do? Someone whose mum helped me get it off the ground in the first place?”

  Jake slathered butter on another piece of bread. It had to be local butter, and it was creamy and delicious. “Someone called Zoe, by any chance? That’d be a lovely wedding present for her!”

  “I get more time to bake and Zoe gets more in her pay packet. I hope she’ll say yes but if she doesn’t, she’ll know the offer’s open and we’ll just keep on as we are.” He put the jar down and emptied the contents of the spoon onto his plate. “Listen to me, talking about business to a man who probably employs hundreds of people! I keep forgetting the ship’s for a TV show. In my head you’re just a chap who wandered into the village and bought a pirate ship!”

  “I have bought it. Well, it was bought with my money, at least, for the program. Then at the end of the series, the restaurant is given to the community, and—” And I go home. Jake swallowed. “But it’s really good that you care about your staff. I try to but there’s a lot them. And when I’m off filming, it’s all at a remove. My managers are great, though, I wouldn’t hire anyone who treats the others badly. I dunno, it was nice when I was on the Lucy May. There was me and a few staff, and…” Jake put down his piece of bread and rubbed his forehead. “You know, sometimes it all seems a bit too much.”

  “And when do you take time for yourself?”

  After a sheepish pause, Jake replied, “When I’m asleep.”

  Locryn tutted and spooned out another teaspoon of chutney. “What can we do about that? You need to actually enjoy the fruits of all this work.”

  Jake pouted. “When I retire? I don’t know, maybe it’s no surprise I was passing out. I thought I didn’t want to slow down, but now I have—a bit—it’s not too crap.”

  “I thought you’d hate the pace of village life,” Locryn admitted. “But there’s a lot to be said for it.”

  “Yeah, it’s not all that bad. And it improved when they stopped throwing things at me!”

  With a soft laugh that betrayed just a touch of remorse, Locryn began to spread butter on his slice of baguette. “So, a wedding dinner. Three courses of locally sourced goodness?”

  “Yes. Has to be. Cheese, pasties, fish.” Jake pounded his hand with each word. “I want local vegetables and some Trevorrow bread, too, if you wouldn’t mind?”

  “I’d love to. Nobody in this village can prepare fish like Captain Cod.” He held up his hand, clearly expecting Jake to protest. “I’m not suggesting cod and chips twice, but you have to see that man fillet. It’s like watching an artist at work.”

  Jake tapped his chin in thought. “Sounds promising, and I hate to sound like bloody Fionn but getting that old sea salt filleting on screen would make great telly!”

  “He’d steal the limelight wonderfully, you know.” Locryn picked up another jar and began spooning the pickle inside onto his plate. “So, do you think my plan to get our older couple together might work? Even a little bit?”

  Jake topped up their glasses. “We’ve got to try, and it’s a good idea. Make it romantic and stop Petroc running off!”

  “Right! Let me grab a pencil and paper and we’ll start plotting our tasting menu for two!”

  They started off well but soon the piece of paper was covered in asterisks and crossings-out. Jake watched in fascination as Locryn wrote. His handwriting was so neat and tidy, but with the occasional, and very Locryn, swirl. There were puddings to try, which were Locryn’s area, and Jake was curious. Ice creams and tarts and little trifles all made it onto the list, and Jake’s stomach rumbled loudly as he pictured the puddings all lined up.

  “I’m keen!” Jake said, and patted his stomach.

  “I brought a little selection back from the café for you to try.” Locryn rose to his feet and began gathering up plates and cutlery. “If there’s anything you fancy that we don’t have, I don’t mind making some extra bits and bobs.”

  “Go on, I’d love to try one of your puddings!”

  But because this was Locryn, the table was cleared and everything tidied before he began producing desserts and cakes from seemingly nowhere. There were choux buns and fruit cake, creamy meringues topped with autumn fruit and biscuits with chocolate or ginger, as well as golden-crusted jam tarts and delicate, artistic examples of patisserie that reminded Jake of summers in Paris.

  It was the most decadent spread he had seen in his life.

  Jake tried to pace himself, only taking a taste here and there, but he returned to each dish, surprised all over again by each pudding, cake and biscuit. Finally beaten, he sat back in his chair and patted his stomach.

  “I don’t know where to start. And if you give Merryn and Petroc a spread like this, they might fall in love with your cooking instead of each other!”

  “So long as they don’t fall in love with me. That’s a complication none of us need!”

  Dorothy had appeared from the chair by the Aga and climbed into Jake’s lap. As he fussed her, he gazed happily at Locryn.

  “Nope, we don’t need complications like that!”

  “Try an eclair,” Locryn told him. “There’s a little twist to this one. Pistachio cream.”

  Jake took a deep breath and reached for the eclair. And when he bit into it, he felt as if he’d lifted up into the air.

  “What the—Loc, I don’t even know how you… That’s incredible!”

  There was that smile again, as bright as the Porthavel sun must be in summer. “I tried it in the doughnuts first, but its natural home is an eclair. Don’t you think? I want the dessert course to look like a Cornish Versailles at its most outrageous.”

  “It really, really works!” Jake licked the cream and chocolate from his fingers. “What about a mountainous croquembouche? I bet yours are a work of art!”

  Locryn’s eyes grew wide, envisioning the masterpiece. “A dozen different fillings or more. Just imagine.”

  “This high!” Jake held his hand out above the table. “And chocolate shellfish and seashells, or sugar, studded over it!”

  Locryn seized Jake’s hand in his excitement and exclaimed, “All wrapped in spun sugar— No. Orange spun sugar, to give it a nice bit of zing!”

  “That’s it! Yes!” Jake flung his arm around Locryn. “Won’t it be the best fucking wedding dessert Porthavel’s ever seen?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Full of food and wine, Jake and Locryn each took an eclair up to bed and lounged for a while. After kissing away the crumbs, they both fell asleep.

  At some point in the night, Jake awoke. He heard the waves sighing against the beach and it took a moment for him to realize there was a sound missing from the room. He couldn’t hear Locryn.

  Jake reached across the bed and discovered that the sheets were empty. He blinked, then saw a line of light under the bedroom door.

  Locryn must’ve gotten up.

  Jake pulled on his shorts from the scattered clothes on the floor and wandered out onto the landing and saw that the light was coming from downstairs. He heard footsteps but they were only the light pattering feet of Dorothy, who seemed to be guiding
him toward Locryn.

  Where else would Locryn be but the kitchen? The door was open and Jake followed Dorothy in. And there, apparently wearing nothing more than his glasses and a dressing gown, was Locryn. Kneading dough.

  He looked up as Jake and Dorothy entered, greeting them with a smile. Without pausing in his kneading he asked, “Did I wake you? I was too full of thoughts of wedding menus to sleep and I thought we might enjoy some sourdough with our breakfast eggs.”

  “No, I just woke up. Don’t know why…” Jake yawned and went over to the table where Locryn was working. He kissed his cheek. “Sourdough and eggs for breakfast? Sounds good!”

  “Would you like to lend a hand?” Locryn turned his head and caught Jake’s mouth with his own, kissing him softly. “A late-night knead?”

  Jake kissed the side of Locryn’s neck, just above his dressing gown’s collar. “I would be more than happy to help.” He stretched his fingers then circled Locryn’s wrists with them. “I like your wrists. Nice, solid wrists for kneading.”

  “I’m glad you approve,” Locryn purred. “You have the most…appealing hands.”

  Jake stroked down from Locryn’s wrists, settling his hands over Locryn’s. “Hands you know rather well now,” he said, and kissed Locryn’s neck again. In reply Locryn tilted his head back, meeting Jake’s touch with a sigh as together, they joined their fingers in the dough.

  Jake began to knead with Locryn, his arms around him and his body pressed behind him. He went on kissing Locryn’s neck, then slipped one hand from the dough and softly touched the bare triangle of Locryn’s chest at the collar of his dressing gown. Locryn’s answering gasp sent a thrill of excitement through Jake, propelling a dart of heat into his veins. He pressed back against Jake just a little, the dressing gown soft against his bare skin. Jake swept his hand lower and pulled at Locryn’s belt so that the dressing gown fell open. It was then that Jake realized that Locryn had nothing on underneath at all, and was gloriously erect.

  As was Jake.

  “And no Horlicks to be seen,” Locryn whispered, a note of mischief in his voice. “I want you, darling, in case it isn’t obvious.”