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Royal Icing

Page 3

by Sheryl Berk


  “And finally, I’m proud to bestow first place on a most unusual artistic display,” Mrs. Wilkie continued. “The judges were unanimous that this one deserved the top prize today.”

  “Just say it already!” Jenna exclaimed. “Quien ganó? Who won?”

  Mrs. Wilkie smiled. “Very well. Congratulations, Lexi Poole and Peace, Love, and Cupcakes, for your Rainbow Tie-Dye Cupcakes!”

  Kylie grabbed Lexi and shook her. “You won! You won!”

  “We won!” Lexi shouted, jumping up and down. She pulled Kylie up to the podium with her to receive the award.

  “When I ordered cupcakes for our party, I never expected you to create a work of art that would take first prize,” Mrs. Wilkie told them. “Great job, ladies.”

  The girls celebrated as everyone at the art show gobbled up every last rainbow-colored crumb.

  “I feel bad. I don’t deserve this. You all do,” Kylie told her club mates. “I bailed on you.”

  “Are you kidding? You were the one who came up with the tie-dye recipe,” Lexi insisted. “You were the one who encouraged me to do mini paintings on the cupcakes.”

  “It was a team effort,” Sadie chimed in. “Kylie, we could never have won without you.”

  For the first time in the past few days, Kylie actually felt needed. Maybe her mom was right. Change wasn’t always a bad thing.

  With the art show behind them, it was time to focus on the cupcakes for Pygmalion’s opening night. Since the club had decided on a flowery flavor, Kylie combed the Internet and her collection of cookbooks for recipes. She settled on two, then asked her mom to drive her to the baking store for the ingredients.

  When PLC met at her house the next night, she produced a bottle with a pretty pink label. She cracked open the cap and waved it under Jenna’s nose.

  “It definitely smells rosy,” Jenna said, then took a tiny taste of the clear liquid on her tongue.

  “Well?” Kylie asked anxiously.

  “It kind of reminds me of my abuela’s bath soap,” Jenna replied. She wrinkled her nose. “I just don’t think I’d wanna eat a whole cupcake that tastes like this.”

  Delaney sampled a tiny drop as well. “Eww. Now you’ve gotten me picturing my mouth being washed out with soap!”

  Kylie was frustrated but not ready to give up. “Okay, here’s Option 2.” She produced a small plastic bag filled with tiny dried purple leaves.

  “What is that?” Sadie asked, “Potpourri? I think my mom keeps some of that stuff in her sock drawer.”

  “It’s dried lavender. I got it in the spice store. I thought we could sprinkle it into the batter and frosting.”

  Jenna sampled a few flakes. “Maybe with honey. Something sweet to play down the floweriness?”

  Sadie scratched her head. “Is ‘floweriness’ even a word?”

  Jenna shrugged. “No lo sé. Beats me. But I think it might work.”

  “There’s only one way to find out,” Kylie said, handing her an apron. “Let’s get baking.”

  Jenna decided that the first batch they took out of the oven was “too blah,” while the second was so lavender scented that it made her eyes water. The third was soggy; the fourth was burnt; the fifth was chewy; and the sixth had so much lavender it stuck in Jenna’s teeth. It was Lexi’s idea to add food coloring to the seventh batch so the cupcakes were a lavender hue.

  “You call that purple?” Sadie said, examining the gray-brown color as it came out of the oven. “It looks like mud.”

  “Maybe we need a few more drops of pink…or blue?” Lexi considered. “Let’s do another round.”

  “I never thought I’d say this, but I can’t taste another cupcake,” Jenna announced. “Tener compasión! My taste buds are exhausted.”

  “Jenna, focus,” Kylie pleaded with her. “We have to find a lavender-to-cupcake ratio that works.”

  “Yeah, like Goldilocks,” Sadie teased. “One’s not enough, one’s too much, and the next one with be just right.”

  Jenna waited patiently to sample the eighth batch. She nibbled the cupcake first, then the honey cream cheese frosting, then a bite of both together. Her eyes lit up.

  “Well?” Kylie asked anxiously. “Is it good?”

  “Asombroso!” Jenna said.

  Delaney elbowed Kylie. “Is that good or bad?”

  “It means it’s amazing,” Jenna said, licking her fingers. “One of the best cupcakes we’ve ever made.”

  Kylie grabbed another cupcake off the platter and took a big bite. “It’s light and delicate with just a hint of lavender. The frosting is creamy, the color of the cake is beautiful, and we sprinkled just the right amount of dried lavender on top for garnish. OMG, guys! This is perfect. We did it!”

  “Do you think the actors will like it?” Sadie asked. “I hear theater people can be kinda picky.”

  “They’ll love it when they see our amazing display,” Lexi insisted. She unrolled a large sheet of paper containing her sketches. “I thought we’d get a bunch of flower baskets and fill them with cupcakes piped to look like different flowers—roses, daisies, carnations, chrysanthemums. We could dress like flower peddlers and hand them out to everyone.”

  “Just like Eliza Doolittle,” Delaney added. “But our flowers will be a lot tastier.”

  “I love that idea!” Kylie exclaimed. “There’s only one more thing for us to do.”

  Jenna rolled her eyes. “Oh, no. What’s that?”

  “Start packing for London!”

  • • •

  Kylie felt like her head was swimming! There were so many details to organize. She made a long list of all the ingredients they would need and emailed it to Mr. Higgins. He’d arranged for them to use a kitchen in the culinary school that was just steps away from the theater.

  “I feel like I’m forgetting something important,” Kylie told her mom. “We have all the equipment and ingredients set up. What else will I need in London?”

  Mrs. Carson peered into Kylie’s suitcase filled with cookbooks, cupcake liners, and several of her favorite spatulas and whisks. “Are you planning on attending opening night in your PLC apron?” She chuckled. “I don’t see any clothes in here.”

  “Oh, yeah! That!” Kylie said. She quickly rummaged through her closet and tossed several outfits in the bag. “Thanks, Mom.”

  “Any time.” Her mom winked and handed her a pair of socks out of her drawer. “That’s what moms are for.”

  Kylie had to admit she was actually getting excited about the trip. It was her first time in Europe. The farthest her family had ever traveled out of the United States on vacation was a long road trip to Montreal when she was eight years old. This was better because so many of her favorite monster flicks took place on the streets of London.

  “Do you think I’ll get to see the streets that Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde walked?” she asked. “And do you know they say the London Tube is haunted by a screaming specter?”

  “I certainly hope you’re not going to go ghost-hunting or wandering down any dark alleys looking for mad scientists with split personalities!” her mom teased. She made sure Kylie had her passport tucked away in her backpack and gave her some last-minute instructions.

  “Make sure you stay with Juliette at all times,” she cautioned Kylie. “Look both ways when crossing the street, and don’t talk to strangers. Oh, and wear your retainer every night!”

  “I’ll be fine,” Kylie assured her. It was pretty much the same speech she’d gotten when she went to Las Vegas last year for Jenna’s mom’s wedding. “I promise.”

  She saw there were tears in her mom’s eyes. “Is this one of those scary, sad moments when you’re also proud I’m growing up?” Kylie asked, hugging her.

  “Yup,” her mom replied. “I told you: I have them too.”

  “You’ll be fine,” she told her mother. “W
e both will.”

  When the flight landed at Heathrow Airport, Delaney could barely stay in her seat until the pilot turned off the seat-belt sign. She practically leaped over Kylie to grab her bag and get off the plane.

  “I’ve never been anywhere out of the country before,” she told the airline attendant opening the overhead bins. “Do they have horses and carriages? Chimney sweeps?”

  “I think you’ll find London is a lot like any major city,” the attendant assured her. “And there are most definitely cars.”

  “You’ve been watching way too much Mary Poppins,” Jenna told her friend. She and Sadie were seated behind her and Kylie. “Chill, girl.”

  “It’s just so awesome. I mean, ‘ace.’ That’s how Londoners say it.” Delaney held up a small book titled The Best of British Slang.

  “Seriously? You’re studying the native language?” Sadie asked.

  “I fancy trying to fit in at the opening-night do,” she said. “And there’s no need to be so cheeky about it.”

  “You sound silly.” Lexi giggled. She and Juliette had napped most of the flight. “I doubt that’s how people really talk in London.”

  “It sure is, mate,” Delaney replied. “How’s about we go get us some grub? Bangers and mash? Toad in a hole? A spot of tea?”

  “This is worse than my Spanish class,” Sadie said. “I don’t understand a thing she’s saying! I’m gonna be totally lost here.”

  “I’m already lost.” Juliette sighed as they left the plane and headed into the airport terminal. There were five terminals and a train that ran between them. “Do you suppose we go right or left?” A large sign read, “Terminal B,” which is where she supposed they were. She was trying to keep track of all the girls and their carry-on bags, and find the way to baggage claim.

  “Jenna! We’ll have plenty of time to buy souvenirs later!” she called as Jenna made a beeline for a newsstand.

  “Have you ever seen so many cool candies?” she asked her fellow cupcakers. “Dios mío! This one’s flakey and this one has bubbles!” She held up two colorfully wrapped chocolate bars, one that read “Flake” and another that read “Aero.”

  “Please, Jenna,” Juliette pleaded with her. “Leave the candy, and let’s try and figure out where we’re going.”

  It took nearly an hour to go through immigration and retrieve all their bags off the luggage carousel. Juliette was counting them for the third time. “One, two, three, four…”

  “Might I be of some service, madame?” a voice sang out behind them.

  “Rodney!” Juliette exclaimed, dropping her luggage and racing to give her fiancé a hug and a kiss.

  “Eww, gross,” Delaney said, watching the pair smooch. “I mean, ‘That’s grotty!’”

  “We’re so excited for your big opening night,” Kylie added.

  “I’m excited you’re all here,” Mr. Higgins replied. “Allow me to escort you.”

  “My hero,” Juliette said.

  After they retrieved their luggage, he walked them outside to a taxi stand and held open the door of a cab. “Your chariot awaits,” he said, ushering the girls inside.

  Delaney looked curiously at the car. It seemed like an ordinary black cab. “What chariot? I don’t see any horses.”

  “And how come his steering wheel is on the left side of the car?” Sadie asked, piling in. “That’s weird.”

  “Because in London we drive on the left side of the street instead of the right,” Rodney explained. “I know it’s quite backwards for you but it’s normal for us.”

  “I think you’ll find many things are different and many other things are the same here,” Juliette told the club. “That’s the fun of exploring a new city.”

  “Sit back, enjoy the sights, and I’ll see you later at the hotel,” Rodney told her, slamming the car door closed. “I’ve got rehearsal till three.”

  “Perfect! We’ll meet at the hotel for tea,” Juliette replied. “I’m sure the girls would love to see what a proper afternoon tea is like.”

  • • •

  The girls had never seen a hotel as elegant and ornate as the Convoy. “Do you think that’s real gold all over the ceiling?” Sadie asked as they walked into the lobby. There were several twinkly crystal chandeliers suspended from above.

  “Never mind the ceiling! Have you checked out the furniture?” Kylie asked, flopping into a red velvet chair. “I feel like I’m sitting on a throne.”

  “It’s quite posh,” Delaney agreed. “That means fancy.”

  “There’s fancy, and then there’s fancy,” Juliette exclaimed. “How wonderful of Rodney to treat us to a suite here.”

  “Welcome to the Convoy,” a concierge greeted them. “If there is anything I can do to make your stay more comfortable…”

  Jenna tapped the gentleman on the shoulder. “Can you put some of those little chocolates on my pillow at night?”

  “We have a sweets shop down the block,” he replied with a wink. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Okay, PLC, let’s freshen up and unpack,” Juliette called out.

  “Did you say ‘PLC’?” the concierge asked.

  “Yup, that’s us,” Kylie replied. “You’ve heard of us here in England?”

  The concierge pulled a large envelope from his desk and handed it to Kylie.

  “For you, miss,” he said. “It was just delivered.”

  Juliette raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? Kylie, who would send you a letter all the way here in London?”

  Kylie held the large cream-colored envelope up toward one of the chandeliers, trying to see inside. “I have no idea.”

  Sadie peered over her shoulder. “It looks official,” she said. There was a gold wax seal on the back, stamped with some sort of coat of arms. And it was addressed in swirly calligraphy script to “PLC.”

  “OMG, do you think it’s from Buckingham Palace?” Lexi asked. “That would be so…how do they say ‘awesome’ again here in London?”

  “Brill!” Delaney exclaimed. “As in brilliant.”

  “Right! That would be brill!” Lexi replied. “Maybe Prince William and Princess Kate need some cupcakes. Or maybe the Queen has a craving for our royal icing!”

  Jenna shook her head. “All the way here in England? No es posible!”

  Kylie smiled. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned after all our cupcake adventures so far, it’s that anything is possible!”

  Kylie took a deep breath before tearing into the envelope and pulling out the card inside.

  “What does it say?” Lexi asked excitedly. “Is it from the Queen?”

  “Or Prince Wills?” Sadie asked. “Maybe he needs cupcakes for his polo match.”

  Kylie wasn’t listening. She was too engrossed in the letter.

  “Kylie, we’re dying of suspense,” Delaney pleaded with her. “Who’s it from? What does it say?”

  Kylie cleared her throat and read aloud in her most proper British accent:

  “The honour of your presence is hereby requested at a birthday party hosted by Lord and Lady Wakefield of Wilshire.”

  Jenna grabbed the card out of her hand. “It’s gotta be a practical joke. Someone’s pulling our leg.”

  Juliette nodded. “I’m afraid I’ve never hear of a Lord or Lady Wakefield,” she said. “Maybe it was meant for someone else.”

  “I assure you it was intended for you,” said a man sitting on a sofa in the lobby. He was tall and wearing a long black coat. “I am the attaché to Lord Wakefield.”

  “What’s an attaché?” Delaney whispered.

  Kylie shrugged. “I thought it was a briefcase my dad carried to work.”

  “Archibald Thomas Watson, at your service,” he said, formally extending his hand to Kylie. “I believe you call it a personal assistant in the States?”

 
“Oh, yeah!” Delaney interrupted. “All the celebs have personal assistants. The Lord and Lady must be VIPs.”

  “Indeed,” he replied. “And they are planning a very important party that they would like you to bake for. You come highly recommended.”

  Juliette was suspicious. “Really? By whom? We don’t know anyone here in London.”

  “Oh, but you do,” he insisted. “You see, my mate from university told me all about you.”

  Juliette’s eyes grew wide. “Wait a minute…Are you…Archie?”

  The man bowed deeply. “None other.”

  Juliette threw her arms around him. “It’s so wonderful to finally meet you! Rodney said you’d be coming!”

  “Okay…you lost me.” Jenna sighed. “Who’s Archie, and why is Juliette hugging him?”

  “Girls, I’d like you to meet Rodney’s college BFF, Archie,” Juliette said, smiling. “Oh, I’ve heard so much about you!”

  Archie blushed. “Only good things, I hope. Rodney didn’t tell you the fish-and-chips story, did he? I swear, I didn’t mean to get one stuck in his ear. It was all in good fun!”

  Suddenly the pieces started to come together. Rodney had recommended them!

  “Excuse me?” Kylie said, raising her hand. “It’s very nice to meet you, Archie. But you still haven’t told us what you want PLC to do.”

  “Of course.” Archie smiled. “His Lordship is throwing a tenth birthday party this Thursday for his daughter and would like you to bake cupcakes for it. Since today’s only Tuesday, I assume it’s not a problem.”

  Kylie pulled her notebook out of her backpack. It wasn’t like PLC to turn down business, but there was so much they wanted to see and do—not to mention opening night for Pygmalion on Sunday.

  “Let’s see,” she said, making some notes. “How many cupcakes are we talking?”

  Archie shuffled his feet. “Oh, not all that many. Two thousand…”

  Kylie gasped. “Two thousand? How many kids are coming to this party?”

  “Oh, it’s not just a children’s party,” Archie explained. “It’s quite a large gathering of family, business associates, and fellow noblemen near the Tower of London.”

 

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