“One hour! You have one hour remaining!” Chef Miranda’s announcement pierced the din of whisking, blending and scraping.

Lucy checked her garnish, already shaped and slowly drying in the low-temperature oven. Right, now the dessert should nearly be set and that gives me more than enough time to add the finishing touches, she thought.

She headed to the walk-in fridge, where her stem glasses of individual portions were placed for setting, on the top shelf.

But, nearing the door, she noticed someone had left it propped open.

“No! Oh dear Lord, please don’t let this be happening,” she whispered to herself, entering and gently lifting the tray down.

And there it was, the dreaded wobble of a dessert not properly set. Mortified, she nearly dropped the tray but – managing to steady it – walked out slowly.

I can save this, there’s still time, she thought as she headed toward the freezers. Fifteen minutes is all I need.

“Forty-five minutes. You have forty-five minutes remaining.”

There’s still time, don’t panic Lucy, she calmed herself. Easy does it. Put the tray down before you open the freezer door, she mentally talked herself through her actions. Now place it squarely down, and close the door slowly.

“Phew!” she exclaimed in relief afterwards, then just as smartly she jumped around, remembering her adornments drying in the oven. Please don’t let them be burnt, she thought, briskly walking to her workstation. Please, please, please.

She opened the oven door, and the flower decorations seemed to smile at her saying, ‘We’re still good, Lucy!’ Their bright hue was tinged golden brown, darker than she had wanted, but not burnt.

Removing them from the oven and freeing them from the muffin pan, she gently placed them on a cooling rack.

Back at the freezer she checked her desserts. They were setting beautifully. She heaved a sigh of relief before returning to her workstation to complete her garnishes.

As she settled down to put the finishing touches on her pineapple flowers, she caught Christian staring at her; staring with an undisguised look of disappointment – and she knew.

“Thirty minutes. You have thirty minutes remaining.”

Ten minutes later, while removing her desserts from the freezer, Lucy almost bumped into Christian, though it seemed to her that he had made a deliberate attempt to knock her over.

“I know what you did, Christian,” she hissed, holding her tray aside. “If you win, at least I’ll know it’s not because you’re better than me – it’s because you’re a coward!” she said, walking around him to avoid any ‘accidental’ contact.

Tell us what you think: Is Lucy right that it is ‘cowardly’ to cheat?