Christmas At The Cupcake Cafe

by Jenny Colgan

  Something in her expression penetrated Helena’s baby haze.

  ‘You two are all right, aren’t you? There’s nothing wrong? I refuse to believe there’s anything wrong. After all the goat’s arseholes you’ve dated, I won’t let anything bad happen to you. Don’t you dare. I mean it. I’ll march Austin round at gunpoint. I will put him in a wrestling hold. I will remove his horn-rimmed glasses and stuff them up his—’

  ‘I’m sure it’s nothing,’ said Issy hastily. ‘I’m sure he’s just … you know, a bit caught up in New York and a bit excited. That’s all. Nothing bad.’

  The doorbell rang. Issy looked up. It was a delivery service. She wasn’t expecting anything.

  ‘Issy Randall?’ the man in the uniform said.

  Issy signed for the box, noticing with excitement that it was from Austin.

  ‘AHA!’ she said. ‘Look! I shouldn’t have mentioned anything! Look! He’s sent me a present from New York!’

  Helena beamed as Issy cut through the brown tape. ‘Hurrah! Now never think badly of him again! You need a relationship like Ashok and me.’

  ‘What, where you tell him what to do and he lies down and kisses the ground you walk on? Hmmm,’ said Issy, but she was smiling with happiness.

  Inside was a bright green box, wrapped with a paler, pistachio-coloured ribbon.

  The girl in the New York cupcake shop was called Kelly-Lee. She was very pretty, with a snub nose and wide grey eyes and a few light freckles that looked as though they were dusted on like icing sugar. Her hair was thick and auburn, in a high ponytail, and she wore the pink polo shirt uniform of the shop in a way that was pert but not too sexy.

  She’d been so excited to move to New York – Queens, to be precise – to finish her masters, but she was finding it hard to make ends meet. Everything was so expensive, and she’d hoped to find a good job – like Ugly Betty – on a cool magazine, or in an art gallery or with a photographer. She’d been a bit shocked to find out that those jobs didn’t actually pay any money; you were expected to work for free – how you paid for food didn’t seem to come into it – which clearly meant that any of the cooler jobs were only open to really rich people, which seemed unbelievably wrong and had opened up a distinct glow of unfairness in a life that up to now had been nicely skewed in her favour, as she was pretty and clever and had grown up in a happy Wisconsin family.

  So she had taken this stopgap job to make ends meet, but now it had dragged on for three years and none of the other cool stuff seemed to be happening, and frankly she was getting tired of it. That was before she even got to the New York men. She’d been asked out, of course, and had been wined and dined by handsome guys, sexy guys, crazy guys, nice guys, and every single one of them had asked her at the end of the evening if she wouldn’t mind remaining non-exclusive, and every single time Kelly-Lee had said no. She was worth more than that. She was sure of it. But it was getting a bit tiring waiting around. Her roommate Alesha thought she was a buttoned-up idiot, but then Kelly-Lee had noticed Alesha get home several times early in the morning with her silver dress still on from the night before, so she was trying not to pay too much attention to what Alesha thought. Then, after two years she’d changed her mind on that one too. Sure enough, the guys that said they were going to call called her about the same as before – i.e., not at all. But at least she occasionally woke up with someone in her bed. Alesha had smiled unpleasantly and made remarks about Little Miss Snooty being brought down a peg or two, and how you had to kiss a lot of frogs. Then Alesha had moved out with someone that she’d met, and Kelly-Lee felt more alone than ever.

  You didn’t meet many men in the cupcake shop, though. Well, you did, but not very useful ones. Some fat, some gay, some buying for their wives or girlfriends. (That was the worst, if they were nice. Imagine having a husband who also bought you cakes. Kelly-Lee sometimes had trouble finding a guy who would buy her a drink, even if they’d only just met.) And some obviously feeling sorry for something they’d done and hoping the cupcakes would make up for it, which, in the case of a woman, very much depended on whether they were on a diet or not. Kelly-Lee was always on a diet. She had to try the new cupcake recipes at the beginning of every month, but she always made sure she restricted each one to a mouthful, and spent an extra ten minutes at Aquabike Extreme.

  Her mother wanted her to go back to Wisconsin for Christmas. It would be about ten degrees below zero, snowed up to the windows, and her relatives would spend the entire time banging on and on about her amazing life in the Big Apple and was it really like what they saw on TV, and then they’d all fall out about gay marriage and her mom would say something that was meant to be conciliatory, like how she knew Kelly-Lee wasn’t quite married yet, but if she wanted to bring a boy home, they could probably overlook the sleeping arrangements, and Kelly-Lee would look at her prom queen picture (truly, her proudest moment at the time) and want to scream. She sighed. Then the doorbell had rung and she’d hopped up to her perky best.

  ‘What can I get you today?’

  Foreigner, she thought. Cute, but a bit rumpled-looking.

  ‘Uhm, hello,’ said Austin, blinking and taking off his glasses.

  Ah, thought Kelly-Lee. English. So probably drunk. Still cute, though. She checked his finger automatically. No ring.

  ‘Are you looking for something sweet?’ she asked, cheekily. She liked Englishmen, you could have a laugh with them. Not like American men; they always took you seriously, then carried on talking about themselves anyway.

  Austin smiled. ‘I just liked the smell.’

  ‘Have you been in New York long?’

  ‘About two days,’ said Austin. ‘It’s been a long two days though.’

  ‘It’s confusing at first, isn’t it?’ said Kelly-Lee. ‘When I first got here, I just stared upwards all the time. I nearly fell down a manhole.’

  ‘Oh no,’ said Austin. ‘Well, it could have been worse. A giant anvil could have fallen from the sky.’

  ‘Are you looking for some cakes?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘My girlfriend runs a cake shop.’

  Kelly-Lee liked the word girlfriend. It could mean anything. It could mean girl I just met, someone I know in passing, near ex. It didn’t mean fiancée or wife.

  ‘Which one?’ she asked happily.

  ‘Oh no, you wouldn’t know it. It’s in London. London, England,’ he clarified needlessly. She smiled.

  Better and better, thought Kelly-Lee.

  ‘Oh no,’ she said. ‘So you’re all the way over here and she’s over there? Are you going to be separated for long?’

  ‘Hmm,’ said Austin. ‘I’m not sure. I hope not. You know how things go.’

  Kelly-Lee did.

  ‘Coffee?’

  Austin did want a coffee, to clear his head a bit. ‘Yes,’ he said.

  ‘So do you like running a cupcake café here?’

  Kelly-Lee had learned long ago that moaning was not considered very attractive in a woman. Men liked perkiness and happy girls.

  ‘I LOVE it,’ she said. ‘It’s amazing! The smell of cinnamon in the morning! The first cup of coffee! Trying out all the new amazing flavours.’

  ‘Do you bake them yourself?’ Austin asked.

  Kelly-Lee frowned. She had always considered it the hallmark of a sophisticated New Yorker to be unable to turn on her own oven.

  ‘Well, kinda,’ she said. ‘The van drops them off, you know, half mixed? Then I just kinda heat them up. Like Mac and cheese.’

  ‘But you like baking?’

  ‘Love it,’ smiled Kelly-Lee. ‘Hey, you know, we deliver.’

  ‘To London?’

  ‘Sure! We’ve got a sister shop there. I can call them right away, they’ll be there in half an hour.’

  ‘Really?’ This struck Austin as a fantastic idea. And it seemed there was absolutely nothing to stop Issy coming over here and baking if he took up a job. There were plenty of shops. It would be great!

  He bit into a chocola
te and vanilla that Kelly-Lee had put out for him. He hadn’t protested, even though after the lunch he’d just had, he’d have put money on not eating again for about a week. It wasn’t bad – a little sweet for his taste, and it didn’t have the warm, fresh out-of-the-oven taste that Issy’s cakes had. But that was fine; good in fact. Maybe she could come over here and make them even better! She would like that.

  ‘Send a dozen,’ he said boldly, thinking he was behaving like a New Yorker already. Kelly-Lee took down the address and promised to call it through.

  ‘Well, I’m so glad you like us!’ she said, smiling at him appealingly. But it was wasted on Austin. Sitting back after his second bite of the cupcake, in the cosy, familiar-seeming fug, he had fallen straight into a deep sleep.

  Chapter Six

  Recipe for a Bad Cupcake

  2 cups bleached flour

  2 cups corn syrup

  1 cup partially hydrogenated soybean and cottonseed oil

  1 cup sugar

  1 tspn dextrose

  water

  ½ cup high fructose corn syrup

  ½ cup whey powder

  1 egg

  1 tbsp soy lecithin (emulsifier)

  1 tbsp corn starch

  pinch salt

  1 tsp sodium aluminium phosphate baking soda

  3 drops white colouring

  1 tsp citric acid

  ½ tsp sorbic acid

  Send through machine. Bake for 20 minutes until partially cooked. Freeze until needed fully cooked, then zap for 10 minutes at high temperature.

  Back in London, Issy unwrapped the box in disbelief.

  ‘What the heck?’

  Under the ribbon on the green box was emblazoned the large flower-embossed logo of a huge, internationally successful cupcake chain. And sure enough, inside was a selection of a dozen cupcakes in different flavours. They did look, it was fair to say, absolutely exquisite, all perfectly piped, and decorated with glitter, tiny stars and iridescent raspberry dust.

  ‘Wow,’ said Caroline. ‘They are so chic. Look at the attention to detail.’

  ‘That’s because they’re made in a factory,’ said Issy darkly. ‘You need a few wonky ones here and there to know they’re home-made.’

  ‘Why would he send you those?’ said Helena. ‘I don’t understand. Are you sure they’re from him?’

  ‘Yes, look,’ said Issy.

  The card said, ‘To Issy from Austin’. No kisses, nothing. It was very strange. It was less strange if you knew that Kelly-Lee had had only the barest of details to go on when she called in the order over the head of a profoundly fast asleep Austin. And possibly an ulterior motive when it came to not putting kisses on the card.

  Issy shook her head. ‘But why would he? I don’t understand.’

  ‘Maybe he’s trying to show you they have better cupcakes,’ said Caroline, helpfully.

  ‘Maybe he’s the least imaginative gift-giver ever and knows you like cupcakes,’ said Helena. ‘I mean, come on, he works in a bank. He’s hardly going to be a super-romantic soul, is he?’

  ‘He’s perfectly romantic,’ said Issy, going slightly pink. ‘When he wants to be, and when he isn’t running late or too busy or just generally a bit distracted because Darny’s playing up.’

  They all stared at the open box.

  ‘Ooh, are those your new range?’ said a customer. ‘They look amazing.’

  Chadani cruised over from the sofa, stuck a podgy little paw into the box and started smooshing the cakes all up together. For once, Issy didn’t think Helena needed to say anything to her, which was just as well, as Helena was watching her daughter admiringly, as if feeling sorry for anyone whose baby wasn’t as good at bashing up cakes as hers.

  Pearl came past carrying a pile of empty dishes. She sniffed.

  ‘What are you three all hanging around for?’ she said.

  ‘Austin has gone completely insane,’ said Caroline. ‘He’s obviously trying to put Issy off him for some reason. Don’t worry,’ she said, touching Issy on the arm. ‘I know break-ups can be messy. My divorce was just horrible. Awful. So I can help you through this.’

  Normally Issy could laugh Caroline off, but this really was a bit odd. She bit her bottom lip. Pearl noticed immediately.

  ‘Oh for goodness’ sake stop being a big bunch of divs,’ she said. ‘He’s thinking about you. Obviously.’

  ‘But why send something so insulting?’ said Issy.

  ‘Because he’s a man,’ said Pearl. ‘I said he was being thoughtful. I didn’t say he wasn’t being a total and utter idiot.’

  ‘Hmm,’ said Issy. ‘I think I am going to go and knead some panettone.’

  Pearl and Caroline exchanged glances.

  ‘You do that,’ said Pearl.

  Issy turned to go downstairs. Then she turned back. She sighed crossly.

  ‘Well, I’d better try them, I suppose.’

  She broke a bit off one of the big sparkly ones in the middle. It did look immaculate, there was no doubt about that; all the cupcakes perfectly even and exactly the same height. She took a bite and her nose wrinkled up.

  ‘Oh, yuck,’ she said.

  ‘I think they say “gross” in America,’ reproved Caroline.

  ‘Too sugary,’ Issy pronounced. ‘And they’re not using all butter. You can tell. There’s a horrible oily aftertaste. That means industrial quantities, not hand-milled. This is raspberry extract, not real raspberry. And the crumb is too dense. Bleurgh.’

  ‘There you go,’ said Pearl. ‘He obviously sent them to you to point out your clear superiority over them.’

  ‘Or else he can’t tell the difference,’ said Issy, worried.

  ‘Or perhaps he thinks these are better,’ said Caroline, who always managed to go one worse than everybody else.

  ‘Thanks, Caroline,’ said Pearl pointedly. Issy turned away and stomped down the steps to the cellar bakery.

  Doti the postman was finishing off his Christmas round outside the Cupcake Café. He liked to come to them last, especially on cold days. Partly because he had a sweet tooth, and partly because he had a soft spot for Pearl and liked to flirt with her. Pearl had Benjamin to contend with, but liked Doti very much.

  Today, however, Doti was with someone else, a definite first. She was, Pearl noticed, rather pretty, in her thirties, long dark hair tied back in a ponytail, large hooped gold earrings and very white teeth. It was hard to tell what her figure was like in the unflattering postal uniform and fluorescent vest, but Pearl was putting money on pleasantly curvaceous. She sniffed. They were laughing together as they jangled through the door.

  ‘Hello,’ said Pearl, stiffly. Doti smiled.

  ‘Ah, beautiful Pearl. This is beautiful Pearl,’ he said to the woman.

  ‘Hello, beautiful Pearl,’ said the woman, nicely. That annoyed Pearl even more. Nice pretty people made her feel uneasy.

  ‘This is Maya,’ said Doti. ‘She’s my temporary Christmas postie.’

  ‘Oh, hello,’ said Pearl, trying not to sound narked. She shouldn’t sound narked. It was just that Doti was the first person who’d shown the slightest bit of interest in her since Louis was born. Still, they couldn’t be together, so she couldn’t expect to be surprised if he liked somebody else. He was probably too old for Maya anyway. And they were only working together.

  ‘Doti has been soo helpful,’ said Maya, looking at him in a way that almost immediately put paid to their relationship being merely professional. Doti was pretty handsome, Pearl supposed. His hair was shaved, and he had a very finely shaped skull with small ears and a long neck and …

  ‘What can I get you?’ she said.

  ‘I promised Maya I’d let her try the finest coffee and cake emporium this side of N16,’ said Doti. ‘So here we are.’

  ‘Oh, it’s lovely,’ said Maya. She glanced at the blackboard and her face fell a little. ‘It looks expensive, though.’ She lowered her voice and spoke directly to Pearl. ‘I really needed this job,’ she whispered.
Pearl understood.

  ‘Well, we’re glad you got it,’ said Doti heartily. ‘Very glad. And coffee is on me.’

  Louis ran in with his best friend Big Louis, scattering rucksacks, hats, scarves and gloves all over the place before the bell had stopped ringing.

  ‘MUM!’ he yelled, and Pearl put down the milk she was steaming and stepped over to give him a big kiss and cuddle.

  ‘My special guy,’ she said. ‘My number one boy.’

  Louis beamed. ‘I was SOOO good today,’ he said. ‘Here is who was not good. Evan. Gianni. Carlo. Mohammed A and Felix …’

  ‘OK, OK,’ said Pearl. ‘That’s enough.’

  Louis looked grave. ‘They have to sit on a rug. You would not like to sit on a rug.’

  ‘Why not?’ said Pearl. ‘What happens?’

  ‘You have to sit on a rug! And EVERYBODY knows you have done some naughty behaviour.’

  ‘Hey, Louis,’ said Doti.

  Louis’ face lit up. ‘DOTI!’ he yelled. They were great friends.

  Doti crouched down. ‘Hello, young man,’ he said. Louis looked suspiciously at Maya. ‘WHO’S THAT?’ he whispered very loudly.

  ‘That’s my friend who is also delivering post.’

  ‘A lady postman?’ said Louis dubiously.

  ‘Of course! There are lots of lady postmen.’

  ‘We’re called postwomen,’ said Maya. ‘Hello. What’s your name?’

  Louis still looked at her suspiciously, and, unusually for him, didn’t immediately start chatting.

  ‘Doti has a friend already,’ he announced loftily. ‘He has me and also he has Mummy. Thank you very much.’ Then he turned away.

  ‘Louis!’ said Pearl, genuinely surprised and secretly a bit pleased. ‘Where are your manners! Say hello!’

  Louis stared at the floor. ‘H’lo,’ he muttered.

  ‘It’s very nice to meet you,’ said Maya. ‘Oh, Doti, you weren’t wrong about these mince pies.’

  Pearl gave her a look.

  ‘It’s December,’ said Doti. ‘We can celebrate Christmas now.’

  ‘Oh yes,’ said Maya. ‘Definitely. Yum.’

  Louis tugged at Doti’s trouser leg. ‘Have you any letters for me?’