Sweary and stressed celebrity chef Jake Brantham is the captain of several floating restaurants. When heâs sent to the idyllic village of Porthavel to turn a pirate ship into the next gastronomic sensation, itâs the last place on earth he wants to be.
Locryn Trevorrow is the bakery king of Cornwall. From the humble pasty to a wedding cake fit for a mermaid queen, thereâs nothing he doesnât know about the art of baking. He lives in a cosy world of gingham and ganache, but at night he goes home to his smugglersâ cottage alone.
When heâs adopted by a lost kitten, Jake soon discovers that thereâs more to Portavel than cream teas, lobster pots, and the annoyingly fastidious Locryn. As the village prepares for the wedding of its favourite young couple, Jake and Locryn find themselves as unlikely matchmakers for two locals whoâd given up on love.
Torn between the call of Hollywood and the kisses of Locryn, will Jake choose a mansion in Beverly Hills or a cottage on the Cornish coast?
Jake, immaculate in his chef whites but his hair just ruffled enough to look careless, tried to smile into the television camera.
There wasnât much to smile about because, although the set of Saturday Breakfast was more than familiar to him, he hadnât had to share it with Locryn Trevorrow before.
Locryn, as sugary sweet as the cakes and delicacies he baked, was as far as it was possible to be from Jake, a chef whoâd made a name for himself swearing on the telly while cooking. As he had watched Locryn across the studio that morning, all smiles and sunshine and please and thank you and how marvelous, he couldnât imagine the man had ever sworn in his life. Heâd probably draw the line at fiddlesticks.
âAnd now itâs the moment weâve all been waiting for!â Katya, the host of the show, beamed, showing dazzling white teeth. âOur search for a bride and groom ends today with our very last couple, so get on the phones and get voting! You all know the rules by now. Weâve scoured the country and, out of thousands of applicants, weâve found three couples who are competing for the chance to hold their wedding at Jake Branthamâs brand-new restaurant. The twist is, even Jake doesnât know where that will be! All he knows is that itâll be in the hometown of our winning couple and weâll watch it all happen in his new series, From Wreck to Restaurant!â
The camera cut away to Jake, who pulled his best theatrical glower. The one all his fans went crazy for.
âEach week weâve invited a couple onto Saturday Breakfast and paired them with a chef from their town, whoâs been challenged by Jake to cook one of his signature dishes. Our last couple are Zoe and David, from the gorgeous little village of Porthavel, and theyâre joined by Britainâs favorite and loveliest baker, Locryn Trevorrow!â Across the studio crew, a loud smattering of applause sounded, which Locryn dismissed with a bashful wave of his hand. âWe sent our intrepid crew off to meet Zoe and David at home in Cornwall, so letâs take a look at life in one of Britainâs cutest fishing villages.â
The floor manager called, âAnd weâre off.â
A makeup artist dashed onto the set and immediately began dusting at Katyaâs face. Standing behind the worktop where he would soon do battle with Jakeâs recipe, Locryn called to Jake, âMorning! We havenât had a chance to meet yet, so hello!â
Plummy wasnât the word for it. Jake had wondered if that voice was a put-on for the cameras, but it didnât sound like it. Did that mean the cottage in the opening titles of Trevorrow Treats was real too, right down to the roses around the door and the goats on the front lawn, grazing the grass that overlooked the Atlantic Ocean on Cornwallâs south coast?
âAnd a good fucking morning to you!â Jake unfolded one arm and waved. A sort of wave, at least. Locryn blinked at him, then gave a smile that was more like a grimace. Perhaps they didnât say fucking in his little corner of Cornwall.
âYou ready to feel the meat?â Jake asked. He planted his hands on his hips, his eyebrow arched in challenge.
âYesâŚright, meat.â Locryn abandoned his designated mark as a runner began assembling the ingredients on the worktop. There were fresh herbs and juicy tomatoes, oils and spices, but none of the sugar and silliness that Locryn Trevorrow had turned into his fortune. He approached Jake and lowered his voice a little to ask, âYou do know Iâm a baker? Iâm just slightly concerned because it doesnât look like youâve set me a baking challenge.â
âAnd you do know Iâm not a bloody baker?â Jake sighed. âYouâve got to follow one of my recipes, mateâand I donât do cupcakes or croissants!â
Locryn shook his head, then ruffled one hand through his dark-blond hair. He glanced back at the worktop, where the runner had now covered the ingredients with a tea towel that bore a pattern of sunflowers.
Very bloody him.
âIâll give it my best,â he decided. Then he smiled and said, âYou never know, if I get it terribly wrong, Zoe and David might get the sympathy vote anyway!â
And Iâll have to go to the arse end of nowhere for months.
âDo you think so?â Jake dabbed at some crumbs on the workstation in front of him. “I bet itâs fucking fixed anyway. That posh couple from Hambleâll win becauseâand donât tell anyone I told you ‘âJake revved up to unleash his secret in an unsubtle stage whisper, and he didnât care if anyone overheardâ’ the groomâs uncle is one of this showâs producers.”
Locryn unfastened one of his cufflinksâthey wouldnât be buttons, would theyâand rolled up his sleeve as he said, âThatâs not true, is it? Tell me thatâs a fib.â
A fucking fib. Is he nine?
âItâs true!â Jake gave an emphatic nod. âEugenia and Ptolemy have an in. You may as well send your two fucking home right away! Itâs a long way back to your foggy old smuggler country. If they leave now, theyâll just about catch the next train!â
But all Locryn did was unfasten the second cufflink and serenely roll up his sleeve. Then he smiled and told Jake, âYouâre just as charming as I thought youâd be. Donât count me out yet, Mr. Brantham. If all else fails, I can try and fall back on this smile.â
âI donât do charming, Trevorrow. I do simple, local, fresh.â Jake emphasized each word, punching his fist against his palm. Locryn blinked then glanced toward the floor manager, who was frantically ushering everyone back into position. Across the studio all three couples were sitting on bright yellow couches around a coffee table in the mock-up of a sitting room, where guests were stationed while the cooks gave their demonstrations. Locryn gave them a thumbs-up and David and Zoe returned it, the young couple looking as nervous as he was laid-back.
That wonât last.
âItâs Saturday Breakfast andâawwwwâarenât David and Zoe adorable?â Katya made a face into the camera as though she were addressing a newborn kitten. âAnd someone else we adore is our guest chef, or should I say guest baker, Locryn Trevorrow. Locrynâs famous for his naughty but gorgeous cakes and bakes, and heâs come all the way from Porthavel with our last couple to try and cook them to victory. Are you ready to face Jakeâs challenge, Locryn?â
He nodded and replied, âAs Iâll ever be, Katya.â
âYouâve already met our couples and the lines are open, so get voting now. At the end of the program weâll find out which of our gorgeous couples have won their dream wedding, and Jake will find out where heâs going to be turning a wreck into a restaurant in his brand-new series, From Wreck to Restaurant.â She glanced toward Jake and grinned. âWill he be in Hamble, York or Porthavel? Itâs up to you at home. Jake, itâs time for you to reveal to Locryn what heâs going to be cooking today!â
Rubbing his hands together, Jake crossed the studio and stood beside Locryn. The manâs cologne was suddenly all around Jake. Not a cloying, gassy cloud of it but a spicy scent that Jake, despite himself, found oddly enticing.
Oh, fuck that, no.
âSo, Locryn, no fâfancy cupcakes for you today!â Jake said. âInstead, youâll be making one of my favorites, pork goujons with tomato sauce. Itâs simple, itâs local, itâs fresh, and when you get to the breadcrumbs, itâs bloody close to baking.â
âPork?â Locryn looked down at the worktop as Katya pulled back the tea towel to reveal the ingredients. He rubbed his hands together and glanced toward the couples on the sofa. âIâm up for that. Itâs for Zoe and David, after all!â
âYouâve got your recipe, youâve got your ingredients and youâve got Jake to keep you on your toes.â Katya grinned. âJake, any hints or tips for Locryn before he dives in and tries to recreate one of your Michelin-starred staples?â
âFeel the meat,â Jake advised. He leaned with one hand on the worktop. âDonât skate round it. Itâs central to the dish. You need to feel it and know when itâs cut the right size, know when itâs cooked through. Thatâs the secret working with any fâflesh. Meat. Youâve got to feel it.â