by Anton Wills-Eve

<a href=””>Layers</a&gt;

Lots of things have layers, their favourite was wedding cake


“I say, Esmeralda, old thing, don’t you think we ought to decide soon exactly what the wedding cake is going to look like? I mean to say your Mama is going spare wondering if six months will be long enough for the patisserie specialists to produce a seven tier work of art exactly to your specifications. Have you any idea what you want yet?”

“Oh, Roddy. It’s all bosh. I just want you my sweet, and Mummy can do what she wants about the cake. Why she has to spend thousands just to show off I don’t know. Nobody eats those things anyway, do they? Remember Trish’s wedding. They sent 500 little boxes of cake to people all over the world in the end and she didn’t even get a piece.”

“She cut it though! Just missed Richard’s wrist with the knife too. Nothing sabre like for us Ezzie. I’ll need both hands for the honeymoon!”

“Yes, for the baggage, my poppet. Not for me. I’ll be so full of Champers I’ll probably get on the wrong plane!”

“Oh are we flying off somewhere? I can’t remember where we said we’d go for the night. Well, don’t look at me like that. I said Tahiti and you said Malaysia, but I bought tickets for both just in case. What did we finally decide? Bali! Okay, Bali then. But that’s three times we’ve been there. At least we know our way around.”

“Back to the cake, Rodders. Look the huge square base could be a green coloured peppermint sponge with praline bits mixed through it. Then a large circular chocolate affair  with six huge icing sugar pillars leading up to the third layer. This would have to reflect our favourite places and one layer could be a blue jelly lagoon for me and the next a white ski slope for you. Then a central upwards layer of fondant penguins and polar bears would add an unusual scene as they supported a lovely wood coloured  walnut dance floor with you and I waltzing around on it. I can just see you twirling me up in the air and missing the two pink candles as they were lit and shone brightly over the whole display. What do you say?”

“Top hole, if each layer has a good mixture of soft butter cream on it, each heavily laced with a different liqueur. That sounds great. Didn’t take long my sweet did it?”

“But Roddy we have to explain it all to mummy now, can you even remember it?”

“Honestly Ezzie, do you take me for a fool? I recorded it on my smart phone as we described it and I’ve already sent a voicemail to Alphonse at the cake making department of the patisserie. You don’t suppose I’d risk letting your mother change her mind twenty times over something so silly do you?”

“Ha, ha, ha no of course not sweetie. Now to the important part of the farce. What shall I wear? Virginal white or penitential scarlet?”

“Well as long as it matches my jeans and open neck mauve shirt I really couldn’t care less.”

And the two  besotted layers walked out into the the rose garden to practise.