by Rosie Green
It’s really bad, actually.
I tried to make a chocolate cake and it looked more like a brown Frisbee. (I don’t think cakes are meant to be aero-dynamically efficient.) Maisie could have had great fun flinging that at the ducks. So I went back to basics and attempted a plain sponge cake, thinking even I couldn’t fail to make one of those look edible if I smothered it in fresh strawberries and cream.
But for some reason, it sloped down at one side and just looked really sad and soggy. It tasted all right but it definitely wasn’t something I’d feel proud to have on display to tempt the customers. Zak came in at entirely the wrong moment, while I was trying to hide its slope with strawberries. He said hello and deposited more boxes, and the atmosphere between us was uncomfortably charged. Then he saw my cake and actually laughed, which broke the ice. I pretended to be insulted but I ended up laughing along with him.
He hung around for a bit, sitting on the edge of a table, talking to me about the café make-over and I wondered if he was hoping I’d offer to make him a coffee. But I held back to protect myself. It felt so bitter-sweet to be chatting as we always did but to know that Zak was completely off-limits to me. He went silent for a bit, as if he was thinking about something, then he told me that Beth was bringing Maisie for another visit the following week, and if I wanted to join them for another picnic, he was sure Maisie would love that.
I smiled and said I really appreciated the invitation, but I’d still be busy getting the café ship-shape for Sylvia’s return. He left soon after that and I watched him go with an actual physical ache in my heart.
It would have been different if he’d said that he would love my company at the picnic . . .
Saying I’d be busy with the café wasn’t actually an excuse – I need to get it looking beautiful because Mick has asked if he can throw a welcome home party for Sylvia in the cafe. She’s back in just two weeks’ time, so I also have to brush up my baking techniques. I think Sylvia would be secretly horrified if she came back to find all the cakes had been bought in and not home-made right here at The Little Duck Pond Café!
*****
The next morning, I arrive at the bakery just after nine, and Jaz is there, chatting to Fen.
I smile at Fen and start telling her about where I’m at with the café. I pointedly ignore Jaz and she very quickly gets the hint and leaves.
Fen frowns. ‘That was a bit rude. Not like you at all.’ She does one of her jaw-breaking yawns. ‘God, I’m knackered!’
‘Jaz isn’t exactly my favourite person.’
‘She’s actually okay when you get to know her.’
I heave a sigh. ‘Look, I wasn’t sure whether I should say anything, but on Monday, when I came through from the back, I caught her acting really suspiciously. I think she might have been stealing from the till.’
Fen looks down at her feet and gives her head a little shake.
‘But honestly, something was going on. She looked really shifty.’
To my surprise, Fen’s eyes well up with tears and she looks away, hiding her flushed face behind her hands. ‘It wasn’t like that,’ she mumbles.
‘What do you mean?’ I stare at her. ‘Tell me, Fen.’
She sighs. ‘That day when Jaz came into the shop, she caught me taking twenty pounds from the till. I was going to put it back but she took it from me and put it in my pocket. Then she fished out her purse and put a twenty of her own into the till.’
‘She gave you twenty pounds?’ I stare at her in astonishment.
Fen nods miserably. ‘That’s what she was doing when you walked in from the back. She said I should pay her back only when I could afford to and there was absolutely no rush.’
I absorb this information with raised eyebrows. ‘That was so lovely of her. I can’t quite believe it.’
‘She’s nice.’ Fen nods eagerly. ‘I didn’t like her that time at the zumba, but I think she’s just a bit wary of people until she gets to know them properly. I had a chat with her in the street the other day and she’s really funny. And quite sweet, actually.’
‘Crikey, well, I’m sure she is! It’s just I haven’t seen that side of her yet.’
Fen frowns. ‘I think she came here to escape from a bad relationship. She pretty much stuck a pin in a map before deciding on Sunnybrook. She didn’t know a single soul and I think that was the point.’
I groan. ‘Oh God, that’s awful. And I was really rude to her just now, ignoring her. I feel terrible.’
We both lapse into silence, thinking about Jaz.
Then Fen grins. ‘I wouldn’t worry. She’s probably used to people being browned off by her attitude. You can make it up to her next time you see her.’
‘How about the two of you come to Sylvia’s welcome home party at the cafe? Mick said I could invite whoever I liked. We can toast my amazing café make-over with coffee and cake and fizz.’
Fen’s eyes light up. ‘Ooh, yes, that would be so incredibly lovely! Thank you.’
I grin at her, touched by her child-like enthusiasm.
She gives me a sheepish look. ‘You can tell I don’t get out much.’
Madge arrives in a cloud of flowery perfume. ‘Morning, ladies. How are we today? I have to say, I’m completely shattered. These baking sessions at silly o’clock will be the death of me!’ She catches my eye. ‘Oh, Ellen, I hear it’s all over with wonder boy Zak and he’s moved out.’ She puts her head on one side. ‘What a shame.’
Fen gasps. She knows all about my feelings for Zak. A feeling of despair floods through me but I’m determined not to give Madge the reaction she wants.
I shrug. ‘We were never an item. He’s just a friend.’
She laughs. ‘Ooh, is he, now? Well, that’s not what I heard. You know, Ellen, it’s never a good idea to punch above your weight. Especially if the object of your affections is still pining for his druggie ex! You need to accept the fact that you’ll never be together and move on.’
My whole body is trembling. I try to brush off her hurtful words, the way I usually do. But this time they cut too deep. I start taking off my overall, all the time calmly holding her gaze.
Her face falls. ‘What are you doing?’
‘I’m resigning with immediate effect. I hope your artisan bakery flourishes but I won’t be part of it.’ I drop the overall on the counter. ‘You might be a brilliant baker but as a person, you leave a lot to be desired and I truly think you should - ’
‘She’s not a brilliant baker,’ buts in Fen.
‘Well, she is.’ I cast Fen an apologetic look.
Madge has gone bright red and is staring at Fen so intently, her eyes look like they might pop out.
Fen shakes her head. ‘You think she bakes all this? Well, she doesn’t.’
‘What?’ I stare from her to Madge. ‘So who does?’ I ask slowly.
‘Me.’ Fen shrugs and starts undoing the poppers on her overall. ‘That’s why I’m always so knackered. Not because I’ve got a secret lover but because to my shame, I’ve allowed Madge to bully me into being part of this whole deception.’
‘Who the hell’s Madge?’ barks Madge, her eyes flashing dangerously. ‘Now listen Fen, you’d better shut your mouth right now or I might just have to - ’
‘What?’ Fen demands. ‘What will you do? Fire me?’ She laughs and looks across at me. ‘She wants people to think her artisan bakery is the best in the land and that she bakes everything herself. But it’s not her getting up at four in the morning to slave away in the kitchen for the minimum wage.’
‘Now, let’s not be hasty, Fen.’ Madge changes her tack and tries to laugh it off but I can see the panic in her face. ‘We were doing this for the good of the business. It was our little secret and it’s probably high time I rewarded your loyalty.’ She swallows. ‘How about a pay rise? You won’t turn that down, surely? If you stay on, I’m willing to give you a very substantial step up in salary.’
I stare at her. I bet she is! The whole bakery collapses if F
en leaves!
Fen shakes her head. ‘No, thanks. Not interested. You could offer me a million pounds and I’d still tell you that you can keep your poxy job. Because I quit!’
‘Yeah, right,’ Madge snarls. ‘Because of course you’ll snap up another job tomorrow! I don’t think.’
I clear my throat. ‘Actually, Fen is coming to work for me at the café, Madge.’
The look of bewilderment on Madge’s face is priceless. Then she shakes her head. ‘You can’t both leave me in the lurch without working your notice.’
‘I think you’ll find we can,’ Fen says. ‘Sorry, Mrs A, but we’re off.’
She deposits her overall on the counter, gives Madge a cheery smile and walks out with her head held high.
When I join her outside, she’s leaning against the wall for support, looking white as a ghost.
‘I can’t stop my hands from trembling. Look.’ She holds them out and we giggle. ‘But I did it!’
I beam at her. ‘You did indeed. You told her!’
Laughing, I high five her. ‘How on earth did you manage to keep those early morning baking sessions a secret all this time?’
‘She threatened to fire me if anyone ever found out. I’ve got rent to pay.’ She pauses. ‘Is there really a job at the café? Or were you just saying it to spite Madge. I wouldn’t blame you.’
Her question takes me by surprise. ‘Well . . . we definitely need someone who can make scrumptious cakes, because I’ll let you into a little secret - my efforts are downright tragic.’
‘So you want me to bake for you?’
I give her a huge smile. ‘Welcome to The Little Duck Pond Café, Fen!’
CHAPTER TWENTY
The day of Sylvia’s home-coming, the first Saturday in June, dawns sunny with a cornflower blue sky – the perfect weather for a summer party.
Mick seems to have invited most of the village for a two o’clock start, and by one-thirty, Fen and I are in a state of mild panic mixed with excitement - indicated by the fact that we laugh hysterically over anything that seems even remotely funny.
The butterflies in my tummy are less the result of hoping the party is a success, and far more to do with seeing Zak again. The last time we talked was when he called round late that night when I was decorating and told me about Maisie’s visit next week. Many times since then, I’ve wished I’d said yes, I’d love to come on your picnic. But I didn’t and that was probably for the best.
The only way I’m going to get over Zak is if I distance myself from him.
It doesn’t stop my whole body from trembling at the thought of seeing him again, though.
Fen’s cake display is incredible. She’s been working hard for the past few days and was up at dawn to put the finishing touches to the beautiful spread before us.
‘You know, once I’ve gone, Sylvia will need someone to manage the café in my place,’ I tell Fen. ‘I think you’d do a great job.’
Fen looks horrified. ‘No, I couldn’t. I don’t mind working behind the scenes, in the kitchen, but I’d be far too tongue-tied to serve the customers.’
I shake my head. ‘You just need practice. I reckon it would be the perfect way to get rid of your shyness, having to go out there and talk to people!’
She shakes her head and blushes at the very thought. ‘And anyway, you’re not really leaving, are you?’
I smile sadly. ‘I’m afraid so. I’m looking at a house along the road from Mum’s tomorrow. The woman wants a quick sale and the décor isn’t too bad. I’ll be able to move in more or less immediately.’
I rush through to check something – anything – in the back kitchen, to hide the sudden emotion sweeping over me at the thought of leaving Sunnybrook. Dabbing my eyes with kitchen roll, I give myself a stern talking-to. This is ridiculous! It’s not as if I can never come back to the village to visit Sylvia and Fen. I take a deep breath and try to block thoughts of Zak from my mind . . .
Mum is my priority and she always will be.
I’ve been over to collect her and she’s currently safely ensconced with Mick in the flat upstairs, watching re-runs of Bargain Hunt. She keeps joking that one of the benefits of losing her memory is that she might have seen these episodes a hundred times already, but they all seem fresh and exciting to her. Mick is being his usual charming self and I’m so grateful to him for making her feel welcome. Every time she cracks the same joke, he laughs just as loudly as he did the previous five times.
Jaz arrives on the stroke of two and I make sure I go over with Fen to welcome her. I’ve never seen her dressed up before. She’s wearing skinny jeans, wedge sandals and a pretty lilac floral-patterned top, and she’s left her corn-coloured hair loose and flowing over her shoulders, which makes her look far less severe. I find myself feeling ridiculously honoured that she’s made an effort for our humble party! She gives me her usual wary look, but when Fen goes off to fetch her a glass of fizz and some strawberries and cream cake, I smile and say a sheepish thank you.
She frowns. ‘What for?’
‘For helping Fen out. It was so nice of you to lend her the money she needed and to make sure old Monster Madge had no excuse to have her charged with theft!’
‘Oh, it was nothing.’ Jaz brushes it off, looking at me as if I’m making a mountain out of a molehill. But I notice she colours up a little.
‘It wasn’t nothing at all. You were wonderful.’
‘Unlike that hideous Madge. The bloody woman should come with a safety warning.’ There’s a ghost of a grin on her face, which I take as a real break-through.
‘I know. Fen was saying she feels like she’s been released from jail!’
‘What was that?’ asks Fen, arriving with the cake and fizz.
‘Oh, Ellie and I were just discussing Madge, weren’t we?’ Jaz looks at me.
I nod. And then all three of us speak in unison. ‘Horrible woman!’
I smile as I go to fetch Mick and Mum. It’s nice to see that underneath her defensive exterior, Jaz has a heart. And Fen seems to like her, which says a lot in my book. Perhaps I shouldn’t judge Jaz until I’ve heard her story. If she really is in Sunnybrook to escape from her past, I suppose I can understand why she would be suspicious of people she doesn’t know.
Sylvia arrives soon after three and seems over the moon that so many people have turned up to welcome her back. She spends the next few hours chatting to the villagers and exclaiming along with them over how amazing the café looks now.
At one point, she comes up to me and murmurs, ‘I think Mick pulled off a brilliant coup, organising this party. The number of people who’ve said they’re going to come back for coffee and cake is incredible. It’s just as well you’ve got Fen baking for you because it looks like you’re going to need plenty of supplies!’
‘I won’t,’ I remind her. ‘But the person who’s taking over from me will!’
She frowns at me. Then she says, ‘A flat has come up for sale at that lovely sheltered housing scheme in Honeyford. Just saying.’ She taps the side of her nose and disappears off into the throng.
I stare after her.
Honeyford is a village only five miles from Sunnybrook. A while ago, I phoned the manager to enquire about accommodation and she said there was nothing available presently but that she would put me on a list. I forgot about it because I thought it would come to nothing. But maybe . . .
Excitement flutters inside for a moment. With Mum so close by, I could stay in Sunnybrook . . . run the café . . . build a brand new life.
Then a dose of cold reality flattens my hopes.
Mum will never leave. And I could never force her to move.
‘Are you okay? You look a million miles away.’
Zak’s voice at my shoulder makes me jump. I turn and look up into his gorgeous dark eyes and my insides do their usual fluttery, acrobatics routine.
‘Yes,’ I say, sounding a little breathless. ‘I’m fine, thanks.’
‘You’ve done a great job h
ere.’ He folds his arms and glances around. ‘A fantastic transformation. You’ve turned the place around, judging by all the great comments I’m hearing.’
I feel my face start to flush at his compliments, and Zak smiles and glances quickly down at his feet as if he’s nervous.
‘Thank you. Yes, I was really glad to do it. For Sylvia.’
He looks up then, directly into my eyes. ‘So you’re not tempted to stay and see the cafe through its first year of business?’
I stare at him, suddenly lost for words. Why is he asking me that? He knows I need to be where Mum is.
‘You’ve made it into a really special place.’ He shrugs. ‘It just seems a shame that having done all the hard graft, you’re not going to be here to enjoy it.’
I’m about to reply when his mobile rings. He digs it out of his pocket. ‘It’s Beth. Excuse me.’
He turns away and I watch him wander into the kitchen, listening. Then he leans over the worktop, talking rapidly and running a hand distractedly through his hair. Finally, he pockets his phone and strides out of the kitchen. Catching my eye, he comes over, a knot of worry on his brow.
‘Is something wrong?’ I ask.
He closes his eyes for a second.
‘Maisie’s gone missing.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Zak’s face is chalk white.
‘She went into the garden after lunch and now Beth can’t find her. She’s searched high and low, and she’s at her wits’ end. I’m going over there now.’
I feel sick with dread. ‘Do you want me to come with you? To help you find her?’
He stares at me, fear etched in the lines around his eyes. ‘Would you?’
‘Of course I will. Maisie’s so lovely.’ A lump springs to my throat. ‘We’ll find her.’ I glance quickly around. ‘I’ll just ask Fen and Jaz if they’ll keep the party going. I’m sure they won’t mind.’
He nods. ‘I’ll tell Sylvia, and ask her to keep an eye on your mum, then I’ll see you out at the car.’
After a word with the girls, and a quick check to make sure Mum looks happy, I dart out to the car and sink into the passenger seat. Zak sets off at speed, taking bends in the narrow country lanes deftly but with perfect control. I can feel the panic emanating from him. Neither of us speaks. We both just stare ahead, lost in our thoughts.
