Joe had decided to bake a cake for his birthday. Usually his mother bakes one, but this year his mother was looking after her sister in Otley who had been ill. So this year she would not be baking the cake.

We were all sat in The Chicken and Three Buckets drinking a very pale yellow liquid that the owners try to kid us is beer. The Chicken and Three Buckets is not noted for the quality of its beer, I do not in fact think any one would go in there at all if it was not for its one claim to fame and social panache, Milly the barmaid. Milly is extremely beautiful, blond, utterly charming and always smiling. However it is not her looks and charm that has given the place its success, it is her cooking, she is without doubt the best cook this side of Alaska.

Somehow Joe had managed to persuade Milly to lend him one of her cookery books for the excursion into cake baking. I would have thought Milly had more sense than to give Joe any encouragement where cooking concerned. The possibility of mass food poisoning was, I would have thought, enough to deter anyone from encouraging him. There again, Milly had never had the privilege, if that is the right word, of tasting one of Joes famous scrambled egg breakfasts. I will not elaborate, but advise any one who is thinking of trying it, eggs and condensed milk do not fry well.

We sat at the bar looking through one of Millys large glossy cookery books full of mouth watering pictures, I have never ever actually seen food on a table looks as good as it does in cookery books. They must throw hundreds of cakes and pies away before they get that perfect unblemished one. Then they must varnish it quickly before it crumbles, goes flat or goes soggy in the gravy. Perhaps none of them are real, they are just wooden models painted to look real. I mentioned this to Joe, he pointed out even a master carpenter would have all on making mashed potatoes from a peace walnut.

Milly came over to look through the book with us and suggested a nice fruit cake, she had made one for her sisters wedding and everybody had thought it was nice. Joe wanted to make a chocolate sponge cake with jam and cream in the middle. There were just too many to choose from.

Spotty and Tub arrived and sat down with us and after a while not being able to make up Joes mind we put it to the vote and every one decided to have the fruit cake. Joe said it was his cake and he would bake what he liked. Milly said she wasn't going to lend her cookery book to any one who intended to make a chocolate sponge. We were all agreed, it was the fruit cake.

" I'm going to enjoy making this." declared Joe then added the rider. " It will make a change from scrambled eggs."

" Scrambled eggs." said Milly. " You have baked a cake before haven't you."

Milly then looked at me, Tub and Spotty then softly whispered.

" I heard a rumour,,once ,,, not condensed milk..."

Spotty nodded. It began to dawn on Milly what was about to be unleashed on to an unsuspecting world.

" I think we ought to just buy one. " I said.

" Look I want a nice cake like my mother bakes." said Joe " Bought cakes are not the same."

" Look as its your birthday, you buy the ingredients and I will bake it for you." said Milly.

Now this was an offer men would have climbed Everest for, swum the Atlantic for, wash a pig or even played rugby for. This was the offer of all offers. Joe however refused the offer saying it will be an experience. I wondered who for. Spotty wanted to know when he was going to do it so we could get the fire brigade booked and the hospital put on alert.

" O yea of little faith." said Joe.

" Condensed milk." said Milly.

Joe simply said that every one makes mistakes, I told him that most people learnt by their mistakes. Joe said he learnt by mine then muttered into his drink it's quite nice really when you get the mixture right.

Milly was beginning to wonder if she should lend him her book as they are designed for more experienced cooks. Joe assured her that they didn't call him the bangers and mash king in the scouts for nothing. Milly pointed out that it was not quite the same thing.

" Look if this fails I'll do all the washing up here for a week." said Joe. " I cant be fairer than that."

" You sound confident." said Milly.

" Forget the confidence." said Spotty. " You've got three witnesses who heard him say that about the washing up."

A supermarket trolley in the hands of an amateurs, like me and Joe, becomes a lethal weapon. This, combined with the fact that the AA do not do very good root maps of supermarkets, and you have an entire morning spent going up and down rows of food, looking for the ingredients of the cake. The main problem was they did seem to pack the things we wanted in small enough quantities. The supermarkets do not help by seeming to specialise in giant economy sizes.

There seems to be an awful lot of stuff as Joe piled on another five pound bag of something that we only wanted two ounces of. Joe thought that at least we would have some spare, just in case, indicating the first signs that perhaps something might go wrong. Judging by the pile of stuff we had got it struck me it would be cheaper to book the Ritz for Joe birthday party and have them bake the cake. Joe said that if I did not stop moaning he would not give you any of it. Promises promises.

The only thing we could not get from the supermarket were candles for the top. I thought buying the candles at this stage was being a bit optimistic. Clutching enough ingredients to start a small cake factory, we went to a little shop in the high we knew sold cake candles. The shop was owned by Mrs Delacy who knew Joes mother.

" O dear." said Mrs Delacy when Joe explained about his mothers sister and why he wanted the candles.

" Well I think she's getting better." said Joe.

Mrs Delacy said it was not an 'O dear' about his mothers sister, because she knew about that, his mother had written to her. It was an 'O dear' at the thought of Joe trying to bake a cake.

" I'm not and idiot." said Joe.

" Hmmmmm." hummed Mrs Delacy.

" You ask him." said Joe pointing to me.

" Leave me out of this ." I said.

" What about your omelets." said Mrs Delacy.

" Why does everyone go on about my omelets." said Joe.

" Well it did have three police cars and the bomb squad surrounding your flat." said Mrs Delacy.

Mrs Delacy offered to bake the cake for Joe, but by now Joe was not only getting enthusiastic about it, he was also becoming very stubborn and was going to show everyone that he could bake a cake if it was the last thing he did. Going on the omelette experience it probably would be.

Joes kitchen is to say the least small, by the time we had got all the ingredients we had bought scattered about and all the cooking utensils out, there was not much room for us. As there was no room for the two of us I said I would be off and leave Joe to it. Joe stopped me saying I had agreed to help. When I protested Joe reminded me that in the pub I had said I would look after Millys book. That did not mean I had assist in a crime against the environment. It was then Joe let out why he really wanted to bake this cake, it seems that Sprag and Dippy had made one apparently for Sprag birthday last week, I had not gone because I was at that pottery exhibition. I might mention that Sprag's tone deaf when it comes to cooking he is far worse than Joe. I ask Joe if he was sure they did it and just didn't smuggle one in from somewhere, but it appeared they had got a witness Sprags sister. It had got icing candles the lot, Joe described the cake. Well me and Joe were not going to be out done by them, theirs was only a sponge cake, we're going to do the real thing. I opened the cook book this could be the end of civilisation as we know it.

We were back in The Chicken and Three Buckets telling Milly the details of how we had coped with the cake making so far. Milly for her part seemed to be getting more and more concerned about the results. It was our substitution system she was most concerned about, but we explained how treacle mixes better than butter with flower. Joe was telling Milly it was in the oven now and in another hour it will be cooked he looked at his watch.

" You've got the correct heat." said Milly.

" Course I have ." said Joe.

" You did remember to light the gas." said Spotty.

" Don't be silly." said Joe. " It's an electric oven."

" Your last one was an electric one." said Spotty. " Don't you remember it was changed after the omelette incident."

" Great jumping cat fish." shouted Joe jumping off his seat and running for the door.

Hang on I shouted and started after him. Well be back I called over my shoulder. Tub and Spotty decided they could not miss this and started running after us, " O no! Joe." shouted Milly as the bar rapidly emptied, she took off her white pinafore and hurried after the line of people following Joe.

As the long line of running people came in sight of Joe flat we could see the fire engine and the flashing blue lights on the police cars. A fireman was just beginning to roll up one of his hoses. Joe was stopped by the chief fire officer.

" Hold on there what's the rush." he said.

" It's it's my flat." said Joe out of breath.

" What's your flat." said the fireman.

By this time a little group was gathering by the fireman, as every few seconds, one by one the line of interested followers arrived. Joe explained that it was his flat that has blown up. The fireman looked puzzled asking what he was talking about what flat. The police cars the fire engine said Joe. The fireman laughed nothing had happened it was only an exercise.

Cautiously we went into Joes flat, thinking that perhaps it was just as well that the fire engine was standing outside. No smell of gas, in fact not unpleasant smell of baking. We stood around the cooker and looked at it.

" Sorry." said Spotty. " It must have been mine they converted to gas."

" I don't want to sound as if I trying to find fault or anything." said Milly. " But what do you think that is."

Milly was pointing to a sticky brown liquid dripping out from underneath the oven door.

" Oh dear." said Joe and went to open the oven.

" I don't think I can look." said Tub.

The oven door opened to reveal a sort of working model of a volcano. It was still slowly pushing out a sticky brown mass over the top of the cake tin, down the sides and onto the bottom of the oven. Rather optimistically Joe ask Milly if she thought it was cooked yet. Spotty decided Joe had invented a new kind of plastic.

" You really aren't much good at this are you." said Milly turning the oven off.

We were back in The Chicken and Three Buckets trying to drown out the spectre of the erupting volcano. Joe was looking particularly dejected.

Spotty told Joe we would all club together and buy him the best birthday cake ever tasted. Joe dejectedly muttered that it would not be the same. It is just not your thing is Joe said Milly patting him on the arm sympathetically. I knew it was not the cake that was upsetting Joe so much it was being out done by Sprag of all people. Milly ask me what Sprag had to do with it.

I explained to Milly about sprags birthday cake and how he had candles on it and everything. Oddly as the story progressed Milly expression went through puzzled, amazed then ended up with very angry. When I had finished explaining Milly bent down under the bar and suddenly banged a large cookery book down on the top of the bar counter making every one jump.

" Joe buck up." said Milly sharply to Joe.

Everyone in the bar bucked up. She the declared to Joe that he was going to bake a cake. Joe looked astonished as did everyone in the bar at this sudden outburst. Milly went on that Joe was going to bake a cake a good cake, the best cake he had ever tasted and it was going to be all his own work if it kills her.

" What's happened." I said. " What did I miss. Did I just fall asleep or something."

It appeared that Sprags sister had ask Milly to bake that cake as a special favour but to say that Sprag had baked, well there is a certain honour amongst cooks. Milly was furious, I think two faced bitch is the only expression I can **repeat of the many things Milly called Sprags sister.

That was all the thanks I get Milly went on lecturing every one in the bar, bake it himself indeed, we will show them won't we Joe. Ah, who, what, when! went Joe. Milly did not give Joe any time to react milly grabbing his tie and pulling him halfway across the bar counter, come said Milly on you are going to bake a cake.

Milly sat down at a table with Joe, gave him a note pad and pen. She started dictating all ling list of instructions in the minutest detail, first take an egg in your left hand and crack in with a sharp six inch table knife, giving it one sharp blow, let it drop into a nine inch mixing bowl. Joe protested saying he knew how to break an egg. Milly however was in no mood for argument and told him to shut up and write. Joe shut up and started to write.

Milly went through everything, making Joe write down an idiots guide to baking a cake. Even down to how many stirs to give it. Bill Whatney who just happened to walk into the bar at the wrong time, was grabbed by Milly and sent with Joe to be an independent witness that Joe was definitely baking the cake on his own. Me and Spotty went along to give moral support and to play cards with Bill while Joe got on with the cake. Only slightly put off from our card game by Joe insisting on reading the instructions out aloud, the evening passed well.

We were back in The Chicken and Three Buckets this time celebrating success. The cake looked and smelt wonderful, it was back in Joes flat cooling down slowly as Millys instructions demanded. The regular customers at The Chicken and Three Buckets were slightly put out by finding me behind the bar instead of the beautiful Milly. Milly was in a corner with Joe, dictating instructions about the intricacies of cake icing.

The party was an odd affair which Joes parties always are, this one was made even odder by the cake saga. Joe had made sure that Sprag and Creg were there and Milly and made certain that Sprags sister Amanda was there. Great play was made of the fact that Joe had made the cake on his own and Bill was on hand all evening as the independent witness. To say the atmosphere between Milly and Amanda was cool would be an under estimation, every time Milly and Amanda looked at each other, ice cubes spontaneously formed in the air between them. I could see there was going to be real trouble in the future between these two, this was the kind of feud that could go on for years which was a shame because Milly and Amanda had been friends since their school days.

Joe who is normally unaware of anything going on around him actually noticed this feud building up and did the most extraordinary thing. He invited each of them, without telling the other, for a boat trip on the river.

" You get in first." said Joe to me.

" It's a bit wobbly." I said.

" Water is wobbly." said Joe.

" This is even wobbly for wobbly." I said

" It's special wibberly wobbly wet water." said Joe.

This light banter between me and Joe, was an effort to break the stony silence that surrounded the small group of people standing on the river bank. We were at the wide part of the river near the marmoreal park where they hire boats out. There as me, Joe, Spotty Milly and Amanda.

Amanda and Milly were still not speaking to each other, neither of them liked water, but would not admit it in front of the other. Spotty was wearing a striped blazer and straw hat. He was so enthusiastic about anything to do with boats that he was a positive danger anywhere near water. I was not quite sure why Joe had ask him.

It was a fairly narrow boat, me and Joe were doing the rowing and Spotty was navigating in the bow. This meant that the two girls had to sit together at the back, they sat as far and as frostily apart as they could. This was a recipe for disaster, why Joe had brought us all on this trip I could not imagine. It would all end in tears, I just knew it would, whose I was not sure, probably mine. Joe had brought some food tied up in a plastic bag, this was odd for Joe as he had a proper wicker hamper for picnics, he used this when trying to impress the girls.

We were doing quite well, in the rowing department that is, not in the thawing out of frosty looks department. We had made good progress and were coming up to meadows bend. Here the river forms a wide loop around Hackington wood. There are several islands in the river and you have to take the outside of the bend to keep in the deep water.

Suddenly there was a scream.

" AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH " Millys face went white.

" Hard to port." shouted Spotty and threw himself across the boat.

" Look out." shouted Amanda. The two girls held onto each other as the boat rocked violently.

" Port." shouted Spotty again. " Port to port."

Port meant nothing to me and Joe of course, so I looked over my shoulder to see what was happening. There only yards away was a large white motor launch bearing down on us. I shouted to pull. As Joe pulled on his oar, I pushed on my oar to try and quickly turn the boat out of the path of the motor launch.

Too late, I just lifted my oar out of the water in time, the launch came within inches of out boat. I thought we had made it then the wash hit. The attempt to turn the boat had thrown everyone to one side, now the wash tipped the boat further over and we capsized.

" You dozy oaf." shouted Joe. I assumed he meant the driver of the launch which was now disappearing round the bend in the river. He could have meant me however or Spotty. Heavens the water was cold.

Luckily, or unluckily depending which way you look at it, one of the raisons for us going over was that the front end had hit a sand bank near one of the islands. This meant we only had to scramble a few yards to get out.

" Now what are we going to do." said Milly.

" This is all your fault." shouted Amanda at Joe.

" I couldn't help that launch." said Joe.

" Why I let you talk me into this I'll never know." said Milly

" I'm getting cold." said Amanda.

" I'll get a fire going." said Joe. " I've got some waterproof matches here." he pulled out a box from his pocket.

" You stay here and get that silly boat fixed." said Milly.

Milly grabbed the matches and pushed Joe hard. Joe staggered backwards and fell into the water again. The girls grabbed the plastic picnic bag with the food in it and marched off to the other end of the island.

Joe sitting in the water seemed rather unconcerned and suggested we had better bail out the boat and see what the damage was. I was still standing up to my knees in the water hanging onto the half sunken boat with one hand. I told him I thought the boats alright but wondered where Spotty was, as the last I saw was his hat floating down stream. Just then there was a plaintive cry came from the middle of the river. It was Spotty shouting he had saved the other oar. Spotty was swimming towards us with one arm hooked over the oar.

Joe stood up and pulled out a large bar of chocolate from his pocket. We both stood knee deep in the river eating chocolate as Spotty slowly but surely made his way toward us.

As we stood eating the chocolate a large plume of smoke told us the girls had got a good fire going at the top end of the island. Either that or they had set fire to the island.

I suggested I should go and see if they are all right but Joe thought I should not unless I wanted throwing back into the river again. He was probably right. Spotty joined us and Joe gave him a large peace of chocolate.

" Well how on earth do we bail out the boat." I said.

" No problem." said Spotty. " I am always prepared for such emergencies.

Spotty pulled out of his pocket a small canvas bag, this gradually unfolded into a floppy but useful bucket.

" Anticipation." I said.

" A good sailors always prepared for emergencies." said Spotty.

" You mean a bad sailors is." said Joe.

" I can smell food cooking." said Spotty.

" They got organised rather quickly." I said.

We had half emptied the boat of water when there was a toot on a boat whistle we could not see the boat it was over the other side of the island, there was allot of shouting from the far end of the island where the girls were. A brightly coloured motor boat started circling in the river and a man was shouting instructions. Milly and Amanda appeared talking and giggling together, when they saw us they stopped and put on a stony faced angry look.

The motor boat started slowly edging to the bank where we were standing.

It looked like we were being rescued, but Amanda made it quite clear they were being rescued. Milly added that us three twits could get ourselves home in our, Oh what a wonderful day on the river, boat. They were going home to have a bath, then go out to a proper restaurant and have a proper meal somewhere civilised, and they were sending the bill to us. They waded out to the boat and ever helpful Spotty lifted them in.

" You can have the camping food we've cooked." shouted Milly.

" Go easy on it." said Amanda. " It may have to last you a long time."

Both girls started laughing as the motor boat pulled away.

I was wondering what they were laughing at till Joe told me that Amanda has pinched the bung out of the bottom of the boat. What I shouted making a half hearted dash for the fast disappearing motor boat. Don't panic said Spotty I have got another one in my pocket. We pulled the boat up on the shore and Joe suggested we got the food.

We went across the island to where the girls had started a fire. There was a fairly good encampment considering, a good well built fire with stones around it, a couple of old iron bars supporting a frying pan, this had sausages and bacon cooking in it. There was even a rough shelter made out of branches and old canvas bags.

I commented that the girls had done well getting this lot set up in such a short time but Joe told us that the girls just happened to find it already set up. I ask him how he knew, it appeared that he had spent most of last night building it. Me and Spotty looked at him, he knew we were going to wrecked here. Joe explained that Milly and Amanda had been friends since school days and this cake thing is just the sort of silly feud that could last for years and make them real enemies. Joe felt a little responsible so thought he should try to see if I could find some way of getting their anger at each other transferred to us, or him or any body else, so they would make up and get friends again.

It was a bit rickey getting us mowed down by that boat said Spotty. But it seemed that was not part of the plan that was for real, Joe was just going to kick the bung out of the bottom of the boat and gradually sink near the island.

" And the rescue." I said.

" Charley Hinkely." said Joe.

" Who helped you set this lot up last night." I said.

" Spot on." said Joe.

" Then we had better relax and enjoy the food." I said. " It seems to have been a successful plan."

" I don't like to put a damper on things." said Spotty. " If you will excuse the pun, but that spare bung for the boat... it must have floated out of my pocket when I was in the river......"