Nanny Piggins and the Rival Ringmaster (4 page)

The children did not know.

‘It certainly would have been easy enough at the Lee–Edwards wedding. The chocolate fountain was right there,’ added Boris.

‘The world of wedding cake creation is obviously crying out for a new creative influence, a baker with a genius for cake, icing and visionary design,’ said Nanny Piggins. ‘In short – they need me.’

‘What are you planning to do?’ asked Samantha,
beginning to suspect that perhaps she would not be going to school tomorrow after all.

‘I am going to open “The House of Piggins”,’ said Nanny Piggins.

‘Why is she opening a house?’ asked Michael.

‘I think Nanny Piggins is talking about starting a wedding-cake-baking business,’ explained Derrick.

‘Piffle to that!’ admonished Nanny Piggins. ‘The House of Piggins will be more than a cake-baking business. It will be a design studio for cake-based art.’

And so The House of Piggins went into business and it was immediately a huge success. If anything, it was too successful, because the cakes were so good. If guests knew a House of Piggins cake was going to be served, they started yelling ‘Get on with it’ and ‘Where’s the cake?’ in the middle of the marriage ceremony.

At one wedding the bride actually bolted halfway through the vows, not because she wanted to run out on the groom (she married him at a second ceremony later in the day) but because she wanted to get to the reception before anybody else and start eating the cake. (She had bought a wedding dress
with an elasticated waist especially so she could eat lots and lots of it.)

The vicar was very cross with Nanny Piggins. ‘Everyone has gathered here to celebrate the sanctity of marriage and that has been ruined by your cake,’ he accused.

‘Pish!’ retorted Nanny Piggins. ‘My cakes are single-handedly propping up the marriage rate. You should be thanking me. I’m bringing you business.’

‘But the institution of marriage is the most important thing about a wedding day,’ argued the vicar.

‘And it would be a much happier institution if married people ate more cake,’ argued Nanny Piggins.

‘I refuse to conduct any more weddings where you supply the cake,’ shouted the vicar.

‘I refuse to supply my cake to any more of your ceremonies!’ countered Nanny Piggins. She turned on her heel and marched out of the church. The children hurried after her.

‘But Nanny Piggins,’ said Michael, ‘you love making wedding cakes.’

‘Oh, I’m not quitting the wedding-cake business,’ declared Nanny Piggins. ‘I’m diversifying. I’m going
to become a wedding celebrant! From now on I will supply the cake and the marriage ceremony.’

And she was true to her word. Which meant the vicar soon found himself with a lot more free Saturdays, because ‘The House of Piggins Wedding Ceremonies’ became an instant hit.

Nanny Piggins solved the problem of having guests and bridal party members making an undignified dash for the cake by borrowing her old cannon from the circus and starting each of her ceremonies by blasting cake over the congregation. She spattered them with delicious chocolate cake, lemon drizzle cake or sticky toffee surprise cake – whatever the bride and groom requested. The congregation enjoyed eating the impromptu snacks they scraped off their clothes, and it was quite an ice-breaker. (It also made Nanny Piggins tremendously popular with all the local drycleaners.)

The House of Piggins Wedding Ceremonies was doing a roaring trade. Nanny Piggins, Boris and the children spent all week making the most fantastic cakes her mind could imagine (and she had quite an imagination when it came to cake) and then they would spend all Saturday and Sunday running one wedding after another.

One Monday morning after a particularly exhausting weekend of cake, cake and more cake, Nanny Piggins, Boris and the children were sitting around the kitchen table, girding themselves for another long week of cake-baking ahead (by eating a slice of cake) when they were interrupted by a knock at the door.

‘I wonder who that could be?’ said Boris.

‘If it is a young couple wanting to get married,’ said Nanny Piggins, ‘tell them I’ve got a three-year waiting list for a full marriage service. Or they can come in now and I’ll marry them while I start work on the next cake, then to celebrate I’ll let them lick the spoon.’

Michael rushed back a moment later. ‘It’s not a couple,’ he said. ‘It’s a Herald.’

‘As in “Hark the Herald Angels Sing”?’ asked Nanny Piggins.

A man dressed in purple tights, crimson bloomers and an old fashioned velvet tunic with gold trim stepped into the room, and blew a trill on a trumpet. Everyone flinched, partly because unaccompanied trumpet music is dreadful, but
mainly because it is a tremendously loud noise in an enclosed space.

‘Hark,’ said the Herald.

‘Ooo, it is just like in the song,’ said Nanny Piggins.

‘I come with great tidings from the Royal Palace of Molavadina,’ said the Herald. ‘Her Royal Highness the Princess Annabelle has requested your immediate presence in the principality, to assist in the preparations for her imminent nuptials.’

‘Her immi-what-whats?’ asked Nanny Piggins.

‘She’s getting married soon,’ explained Samantha.

‘Ooooh,’ said Nanny Piggins, catching on. ‘The Princess wants a cake.’

‘His Royal Highness the King of Molavadina,’ continued the Herald, ‘has a private jet waiting to fly you out to the principality immediately.’

‘I will need to bring my elite cake-making team,’ said Nanny Piggins shrewdly.

‘Who?’ asked Michael.

‘Shhh,’ chided Derrick. ‘I think she means us.’

‘Of course,’ said the Herald. ‘His Highness has decreed that no expense be spared in making Princess Annabelle the finest wedding cake ever made.’

‘That would have to be pretty fine,’ said Nanny Piggins. ‘I made a triple-choc fudge cake last week that was dangerously good.’

The children nodded their agreement. (In the end Nanny Piggins had decided the cake was too good to use at a wedding and they had eaten it all themselves. Nanny Piggins reasoned that it would be unfair to start the young couple off with a cake that good, because then they would spend every day for the rest of their marriage moaning about how they wanted another slice.)

Nanny Piggins and her elite cake-making team soon arrived at Molavadina. (She had recruited Hans into the team because she thought she could use some professional help. And also because she still felt guilty about his accident, and wanted him to have a nice overseas holiday.) The capital was a beautiful city with cobbled roads, and narrow little shops weaving up the steep hillside to the royal castle at the cliff top overlooking the sea. When they got to the castle they were immediately taken to meet Princess Annabelle.

Nanny Piggins instantly knew she was in the
presence of a kindred spirit, for the Princess was eerily beautiful, which was surprising because extremely chubby women are not normally thought of as the beautiful type. But Annabelle was undeniably so, particularly when she spoke of cake. The happy subject made her cheeks glow and her eyes sparkle.

‘Now,’ said Nanny Piggins, ‘I am planning to make you my standard wedding cake. That is an octo-choc-chocolate cake with extra chocolate.’

‘What’s that?’ asked Princess Annabelle.

‘A chocolate cake with chocolate icing, chocolate filling, chocolate sprinkles, chocolate chips, solid chocolate base, solid chocolate on top, and chocolate cream,’ explained Nanny Piggins. ‘Have I forgotten a chocolate?’

‘Entirely dipped in chocolate,’ reminded Michael, who had been counting them off on his fingers.

‘Oh yes,’ said Nanny Piggins.

‘That’s eight types of chocolate,’ said the Princess. ‘But what about the
extra
chocolate?’

‘It is served with a piece of chocolate on the side,’ explained Nanny Piggins.

‘That sounds perfect,’ exclaimed the Princess, clapping her hands with delight. ‘Do you have a picture you could show me?’

‘Of course,’ said Nanny Piggins, handing Princess Annabelle a sheet of paper, ‘Here is a drawing I whipped up on the plane.’

‘Oh,’ said the Princess, her face dropping slightly. ‘It looks delicious, but it just looks like a regular chocolate wedding cake.’

Nanny Piggins smiled. ‘That is because it is a scale drawing. You see the bride and groom on the top of the cake?’ Nanny Piggins pointed to the figurines at the top of her design.

‘The little figurines, yes,’ said the Princess.

‘They aren’t little figurines,’ explained Nanny Piggins. ‘That’s you and the Duke. I am making a cake big enough to have real people as the cake toppers.’

Princess Annabelle’s eyes boggled. ‘But then the cake must be ten metres tall!’

‘Fifteen,’ corrected Nanny Piggins. ‘I don’t believe in half measures.’

‘I love it!’ cried the Princess, ‘I must have this cake.’

‘But that’s not all,’ said Nanny Piggins. ‘I’ve spoken to some of my friends at NASA, and in exchange for my ongoing silence about a certain international incident that took place earlier in the year, they are lending me a hydraulic system.’

‘I don’t understand,’ said the Princess.

‘After the ceremony,’ explained Nanny Piggins, ‘you will be lowered by hydraulics into the cake, so you and your groom can eat your way out while the guests eat their way in.’

Princess Annabelle started to cry tears of joy. She also hugged Nanny Piggins tightly while sobbing, ‘Thank you, thank you all of you. This is going to be the best wedding ever.’

So Nanny Piggins and her team set to work. It was a good job they brought Hans with them. His piping skills were invaluable and by sitting up on Boris’ head, he was able to reach up to decorate the first three metres of the cake. (He had recovered well from his baker’s elbow.) Plus it turned out that Hans knew quite a lot about cake engineering. It was his idea to insert long chocolate rods into the cake for extra support.

When the big day arrived, the cake-makers were exhausted but proud. Not since the construction of the Taj Mahal had a man-made (or in this case pig-made) structure been assembled that was so
magnificent. Tourists were already coming to the island just to have their picture taken with it (and secretly lick the icing when no-one was looking).

The wedding was to be held at midday, so after she finished piping the entire first chapter of her favourite romance novel along the side of the cake, Nanny Piggins got dressed in her marriage celebrant’s robes (an off-the-shoulder evening dress made entirely out of chocolate bar wrappers, which still contained chocolate, just in case she got peckish during the ceremony) and went down to the castle courtyard where the wedding was to be held.