sign a non-disclosure?’
‘A what?’
‘A confidentiality agreement. You must. At this point I am going to say awful things about my ex-husband, who is, as you know, a complete arse. However, I can also say something good about him, which is that he was a damned good lawyer, and he was big on the NDAs. If you’re in the public eye, anyone coming into your home has the potential to make money selling a story about what your life is really like. You’ve been remarkably blessed with Ellen, who would rather die than talk about you, but you have to get anyone new to sign one. Get on to your lawyer and have him send one over, then get her to sign it.’
‘You’re right. You’re right. It just feels a little uncomfortable.’
‘A whole lot more comfortable than opening the
Enquirer
and discovering your husband beats the dogs every night and has sex with the chickens.’
‘Ha! We really don’t have any secrets. There’s nothing about our lives that would be interesting for anyone, let alone the
Enquirer
.’
‘That may be true, but people can and do make things up all the time. Lord, Grace. For someone who’s married to such a well-known author, you can be shockingly naïve at times.’
Grace extends a leg clad in old, worn-thin leggings, a pair of muddy Bogs on her feet. ‘Do I look like a famous writer’s wife to you?’ She grins, pushing aside the thought that she may not be a famous writer’s wife for too much longer. The fame part continuing is questionable, given Ted’s terrible recent sales, a subject she cannot discuss with anyone, preferring to keep the illusion that Ted is still one of the biggest writers in the world.
‘Compared to this?’ Sybil extends her own stubbly leg, a Birkenstock on the end. ‘Yes.’
‘I wanted to ask you something,’ Grace says, changing the subject. ‘I’ve been thinking of doing something to widen the circle at Harmont House.’
‘What do you mean, “widen the circle”? Fund-raising?’
‘Ultimately, yes, but I hate bringing new people in and instantly hitting them up for money. I thought of doing something a little different. You know they have an abandoned yard in the back? I thought perhaps we could do an event. You could give a talk on vegetable gardens, maybe create a small garden, and show them how to be self-sufficient. I can cook, and maybe even get one of the local chefs to come in to do a cooking demonstration – that always seems to be a big hit. We could sell tickets, have an auction. Don’t you think it’s a good idea?’
‘Where do the new people come from?’
‘That’s the point. Everyone I know is already involved. I was thinking if you gave a talk, perhaps your clients would come, plus people who don’t know you but would want to hear you speak.’
‘I’m not that well known!’ Sybil says.
‘Around here you are.’
‘I think it would need something else. How about we get one of the big local chefs to do a cooking demo with you? Something using ingredients pulled straight from your garden?’
‘That’s why you needed to get involved.’ Grace smiles. ‘See how clever that idea is? I would never have thought of that. Excuse me?’ She signals to the waiter, who comes straight over. ‘Is the chef in today?’ He nods. ‘Would you mind telling him Grace Chapman would love to say hello?’ He walks off to the kitchen as Grace winks at Sybil. ‘No time like the present.’ Sybil raises her glass in a toast.
GLUTEN-FREE COCONUT AND CHOCOLATE MACAROONS
(Serves 8)
INGREDIENTS
2 tablespoons coconut oil or unsalted butter, melted
25g almond flour
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 teaspoon almond extract
200g shredded coconut
60ml coconut milk
80g agave
1 teaspoon stevia
A pinch of sea salt
3eggs
½ teaspoon baking powder
40g dark chocolate chips
Preheat oven to 170°C/gas mark 3.
Mix together coconut, almond flour, sea salt, stevia, and baking powder.
Mix coconut oil/butter with beaten eggs, vanilla and almond
‘A what?’
‘A confidentiality agreement. You must. At this point I am going to say awful things about my ex-husband, who is, as you know, a complete arse. However, I can also say something good about him, which is that he was a damned good lawyer, and he was big on the NDAs. If you’re in the public eye, anyone coming into your home has the potential to make money selling a story about what your life is really like. You’ve been remarkably blessed with Ellen, who would rather die than talk about you, but you have to get anyone new to sign one. Get on to your lawyer and have him send one over, then get her to sign it.’
‘You’re right. You’re right. It just feels a little uncomfortable.’
‘A whole lot more comfortable than opening the
Enquirer
and discovering your husband beats the dogs every night and has sex with the chickens.’
‘Ha! We really don’t have any secrets. There’s nothing about our lives that would be interesting for anyone, let alone the
Enquirer
.’
‘That may be true, but people can and do make things up all the time. Lord, Grace. For someone who’s married to such a well-known author, you can be shockingly naïve at times.’
Grace extends a leg clad in old, worn-thin leggings, a pair of muddy Bogs on her feet. ‘Do I look like a famous writer’s wife to you?’ She grins, pushing aside the thought that she may not be a famous writer’s wife for too much longer. The fame part continuing is questionable, given Ted’s terrible recent sales, a subject she cannot discuss with anyone, preferring to keep the illusion that Ted is still one of the biggest writers in the world.
‘Compared to this?’ Sybil extends her own stubbly leg, a Birkenstock on the end. ‘Yes.’
‘I wanted to ask you something,’ Grace says, changing the subject. ‘I’ve been thinking of doing something to widen the circle at Harmont House.’
‘What do you mean, “widen the circle”? Fund-raising?’
‘Ultimately, yes, but I hate bringing new people in and instantly hitting them up for money. I thought of doing something a little different. You know they have an abandoned yard in the back? I thought perhaps we could do an event. You could give a talk on vegetable gardens, maybe create a small garden, and show them how to be self-sufficient. I can cook, and maybe even get one of the local chefs to come in to do a cooking demonstration – that always seems to be a big hit. We could sell tickets, have an auction. Don’t you think it’s a good idea?’
‘Where do the new people come from?’
‘That’s the point. Everyone I know is already involved. I was thinking if you gave a talk, perhaps your clients would come, plus people who don’t know you but would want to hear you speak.’
‘I’m not that well known!’ Sybil says.
‘Around here you are.’
‘I think it would need something else. How about we get one of the big local chefs to do a cooking demo with you? Something using ingredients pulled straight from your garden?’
‘That’s why you needed to get involved.’ Grace smiles. ‘See how clever that idea is? I would never have thought of that. Excuse me?’ She signals to the waiter, who comes straight over. ‘Is the chef in today?’ He nods. ‘Would you mind telling him Grace Chapman would love to say hello?’ He walks off to the kitchen as Grace winks at Sybil. ‘No time like the present.’ Sybil raises her glass in a toast.
GLUTEN-FREE COCONUT AND CHOCOLATE MACAROONS
(Serves 8)
INGREDIENTS
2 tablespoons coconut oil or unsalted butter, melted
25g almond flour
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 teaspoon almond extract
200g shredded coconut
60ml coconut milk
80g agave
1 teaspoon stevia
A pinch of sea salt
3eggs
½ teaspoon baking powder
40g dark chocolate chips
Preheat oven to 170°C/gas mark 3.
Mix together coconut, almond flour, sea salt, stevia, and baking powder.
Mix coconut oil/butter with beaten eggs, vanilla and almond
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