A Spoonful of Sugar by Kerry Barrett

Wilf’s dash through the rain to find Portia, or her running into the marquee the way she did. Whatever it was, by the time the production crew had located the stretcher they kept on hand for emergencies and hoisted June onto it, everyone knew something else had happened.
    As June was carried out to a waiting car, the photographers went wild, snapping away. Portia and her two assistants went into a huddle with some men in suits and Peter disappeared.
    Lizzie, Harry, Wilf and I all sat in the tent feeling a bit like spare parts.
    ‘Have you ever heard of anything like this happening before?’ I asked Lizzie.
    She shook her head.
    ‘Of course, I’ve not been a judge before, she said. But I’m very good friends with Martha, the previous judge. Very good friends indeed.’
    She sounded slightly like she was trying to convince herself of the friendship rather than us.
    ‘She’s told me a couple of stories,’ Lizzie went on. ‘Apparently, the first year someone cut their finger right through to the bone. But Martha said he was ever so clumsy anyway, and he just had a couple of stitches and he was back the same day.’
    Harry shuddered.
    ‘Sounds horrible,’ she said.
    Lizzie nodded.
    ‘They were fortunate that one of the other contestants happened to be an A&E nurse so she took charge.’
    ‘Lucky,’ said Wilf. ‘Shame she wasn’t here today.’
    I looked out of the plastic window. The rain seemed to have eased up and the press were still lurking.
    ‘This is crazy though, isn’t it?’ I said. ‘All this attention?’
    ‘It won’t last,’ Wilf said. ‘Like Harry said, it’s just a baking competition. The press will move on. Something else will happen – a politician will eat a bacon sandwich, or a boy band will split up – and we’ll be forgotten.’
    He was very sensible, I thought. And he was right. This wouldn’t last.
    ‘What will happen now?’ I asked.
    ‘No idea,’ Lizzie admitted. ‘I expect Mercedes will have a plan.’
    Wilf gave a small laugh.
    ‘Portia,’ he said. ‘Her name’s Portia.’
    That made me giggle, and Harry joined in. Soon Wilf and Lizzie were giggling too. We were still laughing when Portia arrived, looking flustered.
    ‘Right,’ she said, as though we were carrying on a conversation. ‘That’s all sorted then.’
    We all looked at her, waiting for her to elaborate.
    ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘It’s been a long day.’
    ‘We were wondering what’s going to happen next,’ Lizzie said gently. ‘Will the competition carry on?’
    Portia looked sombre.
    ‘Given all the accidents that have been happening?’ she said.
    We all nodded and Portia grinned.
    ‘Are you kidding me?’ she squealed. ‘Of course it’s going to carry on. This is amazing. Ratings are going to be through the roof. June’s scheduled to do three TV interviews from her hospital bed this evening, assuming there’s no major disasters, we’re going to be on the front page of all the Sunday tabloids tomorrow. Lizzie, you’re wanted to do baking slots on three different shows next week. Wilf, someone from
Boys!
magazine phoned wanting an interview. You’re gay, right?’
    ‘Erm, no,’ said Wilf.
    ‘Oh, really?’ said Portia. ‘Never mind, just vague it up a bit if they ask you. Esme, can you do a live chat for a parenting website? And, Harry? Any objections to doing a bikini shoot for one of the celeb mags – how I bake like an angel and look like a fox, that sort of thing?’
    Harry gave Portia the full force of her most scathing look and she made a hurried mark on her clipboard.
    ‘No? That’s fine. We’ll suggest something else.’
    ‘What about Peter’s TV show?’ Lizzie asked. Her blue eyes had a steely glint.
    ‘Already been given a second series,’ Portia said in satisfaction. ‘First series hasn’t even started yet. Amazing. He’s just come top in
Heat
magazine’s weird crushes poll. He’s going to be huge.’
    ‘Right,’ said Lizzie. ‘Huge.’
    Harry and I