Nothing right now, thank you

You check with Maria's handsome young cousin Akira to make sure the flowers will be there at the right time, and tell him that you're sure everything will be fine. You thank Maria, and head along to the caterer's.

The caterer, Marx Marx and Hastings, also seems to have things under control. You congratulate yourself for having taken everything in hand. The bride's mother would have been truly hopeless -- daisy chains for flowers, rock-hard whole-wheat bread and home-brew honey mead for the reception, no doubt. The sisters Marx and Marx will be there tomorrow to supervise the set-up. You've never seen Hastings, but you've heard he's a temperamental but gifted chef whom the sisters try and keep away from the customers. Mandy Marx (or is it Martha? they're not twins, but they look very similar except one's taller) wraps up a little box lunch for two for you to take home.

"Lunch with your husband?" she asks. You nod. "How romantic, I barely see anyone all week." She bends her head as she packs the lunch in a bag, showing the tight knot that holds back her shining red hair. She puckers her full lips and puts a lipstick kiss mark on the white paper bag.

"Thank you, Mandy," you say. Mandy's the sticky romantic, you recall, and Martha's more down-to-earth.

"I love catering weddings," Mandy says. "All the guys look so nice dressed up."

"One last thing," you say. "Can I see the cake?"

"Right through here, Ms. Strong," Mandy says, ushering you into a walk-in cooler. The cake is all set. It's tall and grand, a five-tier cake with gilding and pearl, opal, and gold glazes. "Oh," Mandy says. "Let me get you one of the spare pieces to go with your lunch. Hastings was having one of his fits and dropped a cast-iron pan on the bottom layer. We had to re-do it."

Mandy pulls up some plastic wrap from a half-squashed cake layer on a shelf and cuts a wedge from the intact side for you. You precede her out of the chilly cooler room.

You look at the cake, then more closely. "This is from one of the bottom layers?" you ask. You sniff at the cake to make sure.

"Yes, the bottom layer. We baked another one from the same recipe. Same recipe for all except the top. Is there something wrong?"