Helen pulled her car up outside Bibi Kennedy’s large house. She’d known Bibi for years and was delighted when Bibi had offered to make Amy’s wedding cake.
‘Helen, you know me, I love making cakes for my friends,’ Bibi had insisted, when Helen and Paddy had been round in Bibi’s house having dinner a few nights after the engagement.
‘Are you sure she doesn’t mind making my cake?’ asked Amy as they stood at the door of the big red-brick house in Donnybrook.
‘No,’ smiled Helen, ‘she says consider it a wedding gift.’
‘Amy, it’s lovely to see you,’ Bibi said, as she came out and welcomed them. ‘Come in and tell me all about your wedding.’ She smiled, leading them through the long hall to her huge sunny kitchen overlooking an amazing garden. ‘I love weddings and hearing all about them.’
Helen smiled back. Some women played golf, some women played tennis or spent their time trawling around the shops or sweating it out in the gym, but Bibi’s passion was for cake-making and icing! Helen had never met anyone who enjoyed their hobby as much as Bibi did. She was constantly trying out new recipes, challenging herself with different designs and coming up with fresh ideas and concepts for cakes. There was no one like her for making a special cake, a one-off original. To have a Bibi Kennedy cake for your wedding was like having a one-off designer dress!
Bibi had three fruit cakes baking in the oven of her large Aga, and the smell and the warmth of her kitchen reminded Helen of Christmas, when her mother used to turn out cakes and pies and puddings.
‘Honestly, I don’t know how you get the time to bake,’ sighed Helen, enviously. She avoided it like the plague, and only made cakes for birthdays. Bibi was one of the busiest people she knew: always fund-raising for charities and entertaining in her huge house as well as looking after her kids and a load of grandchildren – and she made it all seem easy.
‘Ask a busy person.’ Bibi smiled. ‘We tend to get things done.’
Helen agreed with her on that. She herself was rushed off her feet at the moment, between going back and forwards to her mother’s and helping Amy with the wedding.
‘What date are you getting married on, Amy?’ Bibi asked.
‘Saturday the sixth of June, and the wedding is down in Castle Gregory.’
‘Lovely!’ Bibi smiled again. ‘Sean and I were at a wedding there about two years ago, and it was wonderful. Have you looked at any cakes, or got any ideas about what you’d like?’
‘I looked in one or two shops: Les Gâteaux and the cake shop in Rathgar, to see the kind of thing that they do.’
‘Did you see a design you like?’ quizzed Bibi as she made a big pot of tea and they all sat down at the large kitchen table. ‘Are you going to go for a very traditional cake, or do you want something a bit different?’
‘I suppose traditional,’ said Amy. ‘But really, I’m not sure what I want.’
‘Well, first off, you have to decide what cake base you want,’ Bibi explained. ‘For the cake itself, do you want a traditional fruit cake like those ones in the oven, or a chocolate biscuit cake, or a Madeira-type sponge? Also you have to consider if the cake is just for the wedding or if you intend to hold on to a small tier of it for a christening cake, which some couples like to do. The fruit is best for that.’
‘We haven’t thought that far!’ Amy giggled. Dan and she had talked about kids and both were looking forward to having a family, but as to saving a layer of cake for the christening – that was a just a step too far!
‘Bibi, what do people usually go for?’ Helen asked, curious.
‘The fruit cake is obviously the most traditional, but I find a lot of brides are going for the chocolate biscuit cake now, as their friends all love chocolate and it’s almost like a dessert. Sometimes I mix them, depending on how many layers there are.’
‘So we could have a tier of each?’
‘Yes, if you want to.’ Bibi laughed.
‘The chocolate biscuit sounds yummy.’
‘Do you want to try a bit?’
In a few minutes fingers of fruit cake, chocolate biscuit cake and sponge all appeared on a pretty floral plate.
‘Go on, try them!’ urged Bibi, as she poured the tea.
Helen loved the fruit cake, but she knew the chocolate would be Amy’s favourite, as she was a total chocaholic.
‘Oh my God! We have to get this one, Mum.’
‘I thought you’d like it!’ Bibi said, passing Amy another slice. ‘Now, let me get my album and show you photos of some of the cakes that I’ve made.’
Helen was astounded. She’d seen some of the magnificent creations Bibi had produced for friends’ weddings and anniversaries, but really had no idea of the impressive range of cakes her friend had created.
‘I also do a variety of icings,’ explained Bibi, as they looked at the album. ‘There is the traditional white icing with marzipan, or a rich butter-cream or a kind of American frosting.’
The decorative icing work was intricate and time-consuming, and Bibi showed them sixty iced roses that she was making for a cake, with each individual petal piped and left to dry before the tiny rose was constructed and put in place.
‘So much work goes into it!’ said Helen, studying the photos, astounded by the delicacy of Bibi’s work, and the patience needed to decorate the cakes.
Amy liked the pale-pink icing covered in roses, and another cake with a design of butterflies on every tier. There was also a stunning five-tier creation with a creamy-coloured icing made to look like old lace.
Helen loved the simple white cake with white iced flowers tumbling down the side of it.
‘Bit plain!’ Amy ventured.
They both liked a cake iced with a wickerwork pattern, and with a few daisies scattered around its tiers.
Bibi went through the book with them. As well as wedding cakes, there were cakes for other occasions. There was a cake wrapped like a present, with a stiff iced bow; a layered white house with a yellow veranda and flowers growing around the door.
‘That was for a new home,’ Bibi said.
There were round cakes and square ones. A cake edged in gold, a cake that looked like a pretty hat, a wonderful one like a hot-air balloon, another that was a knitting box full of multicoloured wool.
‘My Aunt Gen loves to knit,’ explained Bibi.
Amy adored a cake with blue icing and little surfboards and a marzipan figure on a board on top which reminded her of Dan.
‘That was for my nephew’s twenty-first. He had a surf-theme party.’
As they studied the photos they agreed that a cake with three tiers was plenty, and that they liked the option of having mixed tiers.
‘But the biggest one has to be the chocolate,’ insisted Amy. ‘That’s the one my friends will prefer!’
Mixing the layers was a good idea, as there would also be a tier of the light fruit cake and the top would be a sponge.
Now that was decided, choosing the design was next. Bibi showed them Celtic designs, and intricate lacy patterns. There were iced balloons, trailing ivy, twisting leaf stems, tight rosebuds, hydrangea flowers, daisies and daffodils – one couple had even had a little trail of sheep.
‘The husband is a farmer.’ Bibi giggled.
‘It’s so hard to choose.’ Amy felt totally indecisive as she leafed through the book, studying all Bibi’s amazing cakes.
‘Some brides go with the theme of the wedding or their flowers or the colour of the bridesmaids’ dresses,’ Bibi suggested.
‘I am going to carry roses and the bridesmaids are wearing purple.’
‘Well, maybe not purple roses!’ Bibi flicked the pages of the book. ‘What about something like this? A layer of pink roses, with trails of leaves, if that’s what you’d like.’
Amy studied a cake which was studded with pretty iced pink roses, with thin wisps of green leaves. Another cake she liked was covered in a pale-pink icing with a neat ring of iced white roses.
‘I like the roses, but I’d like them to be pink and maybe loosely tumbling down one side of the cake.’
‘Bibi, can you do the roses in a different colour?’ asked Helen
‘I’ll do whatever colour Amy wants.’ Bibi smiled.
‘Oh, it’s going to be lovely.’ Amy was breathless with excitement, imagining their wedding cake covered in roses and Dan and herself cutting the first slice.
‘I’m writing that in for June,’ said Bibi. ‘My cakes are all freshly made and it will be ready just before the wedding.’
‘Oh, that sounds wonderful,’ Helen said, thanking Bibi. ‘It makes it so much more personal having one of your cakes.’
‘Well, I’m delighted to be making it. I love family weddings, with all the fuss and fun and glamour! What colour outfit are you wearing, Helen?’
‘I haven’t found anything yet,’ she admitted. ‘I have been looking . . .’
‘You haven’t got your outfit yet, and you’re the Mother of the Bride!’ Bibi scolded. ‘Honestly, Helen, you need to get your skates on. Most of the shops and their designer departments carry only one or two of the kind of thing you’d want to wear to a daughter’s wedding, and, I’m telling you, they are snapped up very fast.’
‘Bibi, don’t tell me that!’ she said, vowing to drag Fran shopping with her next week.
‘Helen, I’ll see you in Maeve’s house next weekend. I believe we’re all having dinner.’
‘It should be fun,’ smiled Helen, grabbing her handbag.
‘Thanks so much, Bibi. We really appreciate you making the cake,’ said Amy, her eyes shining as they got up to leave.
‘Mum, thanks so much for helping me with everything,’ said Amy as they drove home. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you, as Dan has no interest in half the things I’m trying to organize. It’s as if “the wedding” doesn’t matter to him!’
‘I’m sure that’s not true.’ Helen laughed. ‘Dan’s like most men, and may not be interested in flowers and cakes and dresses, but I’m sure his heart is very much where it is meant to be, planning for your future together. When your dad and I got married it was all very simple and no fuss; all your dad cared about was trying to get us a roof over our heads, or we’d have ended up living with your granny and granddad, or down in Cork with his parents, which wouldn’t have been much fun! He hadn’t a clue about what was going on with the wedding plans, but was doing everything he could so we would get a mortgage and buy our first house.’
‘I suppose you’re right.’ Amy sighed.
‘Let’s call in and surprise Mum,’ Helen suggested, as they were only a few minutes’ drive from Willow Grove. ‘She’ll be dying to hear all your news.’
Helen glanced over at Amy, trying to shake off the slight concern that her daughter’s remarks had raised. Things were going fine between Amy and Dan, the wedding was only about three months away, and Amy was probably just a bit tired and excited with it all.