‘Actually, no,’ said Sam, feeling her stomach rumble, which was ironic considering she was running a food festival. She reminded herself that she’d been up almost all night, engaged in some pretty strenuous activity. That breakfast butty seemed a very long time ago.

She made her way to the Stargazey van on the way to check all was well and to grab a spinach and ricotta pie. Stefan was red-faced and slightly flustered but declared everything was in hand and business was rocking. He’d already restocked once from the chiller at the unit.

Feeling guilty for abandoning her team, Sam made sure they were coping while she ate her pie. She moved on again, dealing with a couple of queries from stewards en route to the theatre. By the time she finally arrived, there wasn’t a seat in the house but the volunteers in charge found her a space at the technical desk. She had a prime view of the stage. She found she was holding her breath; her heart beating faster. Was this real? Gabe, commanding this kind of crowd? A hush descended and the MC asked everyone to give ‘Gabriel Mathias, TV chef, and Porthmellow lad made good’ a warm welcome. Music blared out – ‘The Boys are Back in Town’ by Thin Lizzy – and there were cheers and applause as Gabe strode onto the centre of the stage.

Chapter Thirty-Six

‘Good morning, Porthmellowww!’

Gabe strode onto the stage with a flourish, and began walking up and down the set, making sure he caught the eye of the entire audience. The smile was fixed on his face, but he felt weird. He’d done this before, many times at other festivals and on live TV, but this was Porthmellow, with all its memories.

He caught Sam’s eye, didn’t dare linger and took his place behind the kitchen counter. He had a small team of tech guys and a stage crew waiting behind the scenes, but for the next hour he was on his own.

‘It’s great to be back in my hometown.’

‘You took your bloody time about it!’

The shout came from a guy about Gabe’s own age whose face was vaguely familiar. However, the rest of him wasn’t. He had a huge beer gut and long greasy hair. Then it dawned on Gabe that the guy was one of the ‘lads’ who used to wind him up mercilessly in the chip shop. The heckler’s partner grabbed his arm and shh-ed him.

Deciding to ignore his critic, Gabe carried on with his spiel, joking and laughing as he warmed the audience up, talking about being back ‘home’, about the dishes he was going to create and mentioning jokily that they were featured in his new cookbook.