There was a text from Gabi. Be with you in 2 mins!

Gabi had messaged earlier to say she was going to miss the beginning of the gin tasting class but that she would definitely make it before the end.

Anna sighed. This was yet another activity Gabi had talked her into not long after the New Year’s Eve debacle – just in case salsa had proved to be a flop – but there had been a three-month waiting list, and now the actual day had come, Gabi’s photo assignment for the day was running late, and Anna was sitting here on her own.

A short while later, a rather hot and flustered-looking Gabi slid onto the empty chair beside Anna. She leaned in and whispered, ‘I will tell you all about my nightmare photoshoot later. You won’t believe what the client…’ She trailed off as she noticed the gin expert pause and glance disapprovingly in her direction.

‘Sorry!’ she mouthed back at him and mimed zipping her lips shut.

Tom Collins (not his real name, Anna suspected) gave Gabi a disapproving look then turned to the rest of the group and resumed his lecture. Anna dipped her head to hide a smile. The man obviously took his gin very seriously. Anna and Gabi sat and listened attentively while ‘Tom’ explained the difference between London and New Western dry gins.

‘When I booked this session, I thought we’d be doing a lot more tasting and a lot less listening,’ Gabi muttered under her breath.

‘Shh,’ Anna replied, not taking her eyes off their instructor. ‘It’s educational.’

‘Finally!’ Gabi said, as they were presented with a new combination of gin, tonic and botanicals to sample.

Anna took a demure sip. She wasn’t sure if she could discern all the notes of the different botanicals in this one, as Tom had said they would, although she could definitely detect a hint of cinnamon. She wasn’t sure what arrowroot tasted like, so she had no idea if she could identify that.

During the time they were supposed to be discussing the gin with each other, Gabi leaned in and said, ‘We were shooting a burger cookbook today. Five burgers! And I hate doing burgers.’

‘Why?’ Anna asked. ‘They’re not difficult to cook, are they?’

‘No…’ Gabi glanced at the instructor, who was chatting seriously with a group at the other end of the long table. ‘But each bit – meat, bun, lettuce, tomato, and other ingredients – have to be picked and styled individually, even the way the mustard drips and the cheese melts, and then it is a race to get the shot before the bun goes soggy. We were just about to do the last dish of the day when the client decided he did not want the brioche bun he’d picked. He wanted sesame seed instead!’

‘Not good?’

‘No. Not good. I had to go shopping, and they were out of stock at the local supermarket, so I had to spend forty minutes gluing sesame seeds onto a plain bun. With tweezers, Anna! This is why I need gin tonight…’ She sighed dramatically and flipped her long hair over her shoulder. ‘Sometimes I think I need a less stressful career, one where I can work with food, but I don’t have to deal with people.’