Christmas At The Cupcake Cafe

by Jenny Colgan

  ‘Um, and maybe …’ Issy looked at her, raising her eyebrows. ‘Louis’ dad?’ she whispered. Louis, however, was totally hypnotised by the Christmas train and didn’t notice.

  Pearl shrugged. ‘Well, you know. He’s hardly Captain Reliable.’

  ‘Hmm,’ said Issy. She felt as if she had no idea who was reliable and who wasn’t, not any more. Pointless trying to guess really.

  ‘Fine,’ she said. ‘So we’ll have a huge one. Right here. I’d better find the world’s most gigantic turkey.’

  ‘Can we come?’ said a regular customer who’d been listening in.

  ‘No,’ said Issy. ‘They don’t do turkeys that big.’

  There was a sigh from around the room.

  ‘Be quiet and eat your cake,’ said Issy, going over to phone her suppliers, see if anyone could recommend a really good last-minute gigantic turkey supplier.

  ‘Merry merry merry merry Christmas!’ Louis was singing to the train. It was a song they were doing at school. ‘Merry merry merry merry Christmas. Ding dong! Ding dong! Ding dong!’

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chocolate Cola Cupcakes with Fizzy Cola Frosting

  Makes approx. 12 large cupcakes

  200g plain flour, sieved

  250g golden caster sugar

  ½ tsp baking powder

  pinch salt

  1 large free-range egg

  125ml buttermilk

  1 tsp vanilla essence

  125g unsalted butter

  2 tbsp cocoa powder

  175ml Coca-Cola

  For the frosting

  400g icing sugar

  125g unsalted butter, softened

  1½ tbsp cola syrup (I used Soda Stream)

  40ml whole milk

  popping candy, to taste

  fizzy cola bottles, candied lemon slices, stripy straws or candy canes to decorate

  Preheat the oven to 180°C/gas mark 4. Line two 6-hole muffin tins with papers.

  In a large bowl, combine the flour, sugar, baking powder and salt. In a separate bowl, beat together the egg, buttermilk and vanilla.

  Melt the butter, cocoa and Coca-Cola in a saucepan over a low heat. Pour this mixture into the dry ingredients, stir well with a wooden spoon, and then add the buttermilk mixture, beating until the batter is well blended.

  Pour into your prepared liners and bake for 15 minutes, or until risen and a skewer comes out clean. Set aside to cool.

  To make the frosting, beat together the butter and icing sugar until no lumps are left – I use a freestanding mixer with the paddle attachment, but you could use an electric whisk instead. Stir the cola syrup and milk together in a jug, then pour into the butter and sugar mixture while beating slowly. Once incorporated, increase the speed to high and whisk until light and fluffy. Carefully stir in your popping candy to taste. It does lose its pop after a while, so the icing is best done just a few hours before eating.

  Spoon your icing into a piping bag and pipe over your cooled cupcakes. Decorate with fizzy cola bottles or a slice of candied lemon, a stripy straw or candy cane and an extra sprinkling of popping candy.

  Austin’s newly assigned PA, MacKenzie, was incredibly beautiful. She was tiny, with a gym-honed body that could only be arrived at by a lot of lettuce and early rising. Her face was tight, her nose probably not original, her hair extraordinarily bouncy and shiny. She had two degrees and a string of letters after her name, and Merv had called her a paragon of efficiency. She was also, Austin suspected, the most colossal pain in the arse. He already missed Janet terribly.

  ‘So I’ve just typed up your sked-u-al?’ she said, talking in a rat-a-tat voice with an upward inflection that sounded like everything was a question. It was not, Austin was learning, a question. It was an order. ‘And if you could, like, be on time for all your appointments so I don’t need to make so many calls to keep people waiting? And if you could, like, check out my colour-coded filing system so you always have the right files to take with you? And if you could, like, have your lunch order ready by ten thirty every day so I can get it right for you? And you need to look into contract apartment leases, like pronto? And we’ll start work on the green card, like, before you go back to close down your London office?’

  Austin bowed his head and did some quick nodding, hoping she’d leave him alone. She stood in front of him, arms folded. For such a tiny person, she made an awful lot of noise.

  ‘And, you know, I realise you’ve just arrived,’ she said, ‘but I think it is, like, unprofessional to leave a child in my office? It’s not really acceptable to me? You know I have a bachelor’s from Vassar? And I’m not even sure that it’s, like, legal?’

  Austin sighed. He knew this was true. He couldn’t keep dumping Darny around the place; it was driving both of them crazy. But he’d promised to stay a few more days and set everything up, then go home and work out a couple of weeks’ notice – although Ed, his old boss, was so proud that his boy had gone to the big team, he wasn’t really expected to do much more than go out for a few leaving pints. Ed had also confirmed what Austin had suspected: they wouldn’t be filling his post. They did need to fillet; even though Austin had done well in the job, it was going to go to keep good on the bank’s promise to shareholders. Which meant there hadn’t really been a way back after all.

  He didn’t know what else to do with Darny. He wasn’t enrolled in the school yet, and it wasn’t like he could go to a nursery or a crèche, however much Austin wished he could.

  ‘You would be prosecuted for doing this to a rabbit,’ Darny had announced cheerfully as Austin had perched him on his sofa with a Spiderman comic and a packet of crisps the size of a pillow, which Darny crunched with a noise that drove Austin to distraction. ‘I wouldn’t mind seeing that old lady again. She was cool.’

  ‘Which old lady?’ said Austin, struggling to figure out who Darny was talking about. If she wasn’t wearing a black pointed hat and living in a gingerbread house, he was willing to give it a shot at this point.

  ‘Marian. No, Miriam. Something like that. Issy’s mum.’

  ‘Oh yes,’ said Austin, warily. He’d forgotten she was here. They’d met a few times; he thought on the surface she seemed pleasant, a little batty, mostly harmless. Underneath, from stories Issy had told him late at night, he thought what she had done was much, much worse. But she could babysit, couldn’t she? She owed Issy that much, at least.

  Then he remembered, as he did afresh and anew dozens of times a day, the way things were with Issy, and wanted to howl with anguish.

  He didn’t. He couldn’t. Darny shook out the gigantic packet of crisps so all the dust floated to the floor. Then he burped loudly.

  ‘I’ll call her,’ said Austin.

  Issy was up to her eyes in marzipan when the phone rang. Nonetheless, she knew, in the way that sometimes you just do. Some phone rings sound different to others. And it was just when she was thinking of Austin.

  Although, if she was being honest, she had been thinking about Austin every waking moment and every sleepless-night moment and her few and far between early-morning dreaming moments too. So.

  She wiped her hands down her striped pink apron and picked up her phone. Number unknown.

  It wasn’t unknown to her.

  ‘Austin?’

  ‘Issy?’

  She swallowed hard. ‘I mi …’

  Then she stopped herself. It had nearly all come tumbling out, all the heartache and the sadness and the terror she had that she was going to lose him. All her neediness and insecurities brought to the surface. But how would that help? What would it prove? That she could guilt him into giving up his amazing life? Did she think that would make them happy?

  She tried again. ‘I’m making marzipan. Acres of it.’

  Austin bit his lip. He could just see her, pink with the exertion. Sometimes, when she was concentrating, she even let the very end of her tongue slip out of her mouth, like a character from Peanuts. There she was, doing what she loved best; h
appy and immersed in her kitchen. He couldn’t take that away from her. He couldn’t.

  ‘I hate marzipan,’ he said.

  Issy gulped. ‘Well, one, you are wrong. And two, you haven’t tried mine.’

  ‘But I don’t like the flavour and I don’t like the texture. I do think people should be allowed to have different tastes in food.’

  ‘Not when they’re wrong.’

  ‘But you don’t like beetroot.’

  ‘That is because it is food for horses. Everyone knows that.’

  ‘Well I think marzipan is food for … rabbits. Or squirrels. Nut-loving squirrels.’

  ‘I think it’s illegal to give marzipan to a squirrel,’ said Issy.

  ‘I wouldn’t know, I missed squirrel marzipan week at school,’ said Austin.

  There was a silence. Issy thought she would burst with longing. Why was he calling? Had something changed? Had he changed his mind?

  ‘So?’ she said.

  ‘Um,’ said Austin. He didn’t know how to get the next bit out without sounding like the most terrible heel. ‘The thing is,’ he said. ‘I have to stay on here a bit longer …’

  Issy’s heart dropped out through her feet like a plummeting lift. She felt it crack and go, all the way down down down, and smash to bits, far, far below.

  All she said was, ‘Oh.’

  ‘And, hem. Well. I wondered …’

  ‘I can’t come out again,’ she said, quickly, fiercely. ‘I can’t. Don’t do that to me, Austin.’

  Oh Christ, thought Austin. This was going even worse than he’d thought. Although he realised that as he’d made the call, there’d been a bit of him wondering if she might possibly say, ‘Darling. Let’s forget the last week. Let me fly back over. Let’s give it another shot.’

  Of course she couldn’t. She was up to her elbows in marzipan. He was mad.

  ‘Um, no. No. Of course not,’ he muttered. He wondered what Merv would say if he were here. Something straight and to the point, he imagined.

  ‘I wondered if I could have your mother’s number.’

  Issy almost burst out laughing, but she knew that if she did, the tears would be right behind.

  ‘For what, a date?’ she said.

  ‘No, no … for Darny. To help with Darny.’

  ‘What, because I flounced off?’ she said.

  ‘No,’ said Austin. ‘You did what you had to do. For him really. He liked her.’

  ‘She liked him.’

  ‘So, maybe … I mean, just while I’ve got a few things to do …’

  This would be Austin’s life from now on, Issy realised. He would always have a few things to do. His phone would always be ringing; his work would always be his priority.

  ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘I’ll need to text it to you when I hang up.’

  There was a pause. Neither of them quite knew whether this meant she was about to hang up; and if so, how final it was.

  ‘Issy,’ said Austin, eventually.

  That was too much. She choked.

  ‘Don’t,’ she said. ‘Don’t say it. Please. Just don’t. I’ll text you the number.’

  ‘No Christmas?’ said Darny, gazing at Marian in sheer amazement. ‘How can that even be?’

  ‘Don’t you do religion at school?’ grumbled Marian.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Darny. ‘We do how all religions are super-great. It’s rubbish. And I got kicked out of the class anyway for going on about the Inquisition.’

  ‘They aren’t allowed to teach the Inquisition?’

  ‘I brought a book of pictures in,’ shrugged Darny. ‘Kelise Flaherty threw up all over the whiteboard. Well, she was the first one to throw up.’

  Marian’s lips twitched. ‘You remind me of someone,’ she said. ‘Anyway, we have something much cooler. It’s called Hanukkah.’

  ‘Oh yeah. My mate Joel has that. He says it’s rubbish.’

  ‘But you get a present every night for eight nights! It’s the festival of lights.’

  ‘He says the presents get really rubbish by the end, and him and his sister complained and drew Christmas trees all over the place, so his parents just gave up in the end and had Christmas too. So now he has Hanukkah and Christmas.’ He glanced up at Marian. ‘Maybe I’ll do that.’

  ‘Maybe,’ said Marian. ‘But it’s very disrespectful.’

  ‘Good,’ said Darny, kicking his chair. His feet didn’t quite reach the bottom of the bar stool he was sitting on so he could sip his root beer float.

  ‘Do you like getting into trouble?’ asked Marian gently.

  Darny shrugged. ‘S’all right. If I get into trouble with the teachers, I get into less trouble with the big kids. So, you know. On balance. Teachers hit less.’

  Marian smiled. ‘I know what you mean. I just used to bunk off all the time.’

  ‘I do that too,’ said Darny. ‘Only problem is, where we live, everybody knows us. I get spotted by busybodies all the time and they tell Austin and he sighs and makes those big puppy-dog eyes at me. It’s rubbish. I wish I lived where nobody knew me. Where did you go when you bunked off?’

  ‘I used to go to the fairground,’ said Marian. ‘They gave me free goes on the rides.’

  ‘Really?’ said Darny. ‘That sounds amazing.’

  ‘Well, it had certain … consequences,’ said Marian. ‘I would say I paid for it in the end.’

  ‘Is that a metaphor?’ said Darny. ‘Or am I meant to understand it right away?’

  ‘You are far too smart for your age,’ said Marian. ‘If there was a way of making young people understand any of it, and then actually act on it – ha. Well, I’m sure they’d have discovered it by now. But your mistakes are all yours to make.’

  She handed him a small parcel wrapped in brown paper.

  ‘What’s this?’ said Darny. ‘Can I open it now?’

  ‘Have you not been listening to me at all?’ said Marian, but with a smile in her croaky voice. ‘Of course you can open it.’

  Darny did. It was a small square wooden spinning top covered in letters. Marian had expected him to be dismissive of it, but had hoped to explain where it came from and what it meant. She liked this boy. He had something about him.

  Instead of casting it aside as a child’s toy, though, he picked it up and held it carefully and looked at it from all angles.

  ‘I can’t read the letters,’ he said. ‘They’re weird, like something out of Ben Ten: Alien Force. Which blows.’

  ‘It’s a dreidel,’ said Marian. ‘You can play games with it.’

  Darny spun it in his hands.

  ‘That’s right. A long time ago Jewish scholars had to pretend they weren’t studying the Talmud – the holy book. So they pretended they were playing a game instead. And tomorrow you’ll get another present, and that will be gelt.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘You’ll see. You’ll like it.’

  ‘Can you eat it?’

  ‘In fact, yes. Now, would you like to come for a walk with me?’

  ‘It’s freezing outside.’

  ‘To the cinema. It’s two blocks – they’re showing Miracle on 34th Street. I think you’ll like it.’

  ‘That sounds like it’s for girls,’ said Darny dubiously.

  ‘I won’t tell a soul,’ said Marian.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Caroline’s Turnip Pie Surprise

  Chop turnip, mushroom, radishes, Brussels sprouts and a red onion and put in a dish with a spray of flax oil. Add cumin (not too much).

  Cover with wholemeal pastry. Bake.

  Fumigate house. Call out for pizza.

  Three days before Christmas, Caroline saw Donald again. Looking like a very small bear in his footsie pyjamas, he was creeping out of Kate’s house. He saw her looking at him and blinked, his thumb in his mouth. Caroline gave him a stern look and mounted the imposing stone steps. The house had been remodelled beautifully by a builder she had had a fling with the year before. The affair had finished when he’d tried to
buy her a bacon sandwich and they had both realised they had no future together. He was a good builder, though. Immaculate box trees stood either side of the forest-green-painted front door.

  ‘Come on, you,’ said Caroline, taking Donald’s hand. She rang the bell. No one answered, so she pushed the door open. The nanny was standing exhaustedly over a huge pile of ironing, while the twins charged up and down the stunning stairs, with their freshly painted balustrade and tasteful works of art, hitting each other with sticks.

  ‘Um, missing anyone?’ Caroline said. The nanny looked up, a defeated look on her face.

  ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘Come here. Was he running away again?’

  ‘He’s a baby,’ said Caroline. ‘He’s just looking for his mother. Where is she?’

  The nanny shrugged. ‘In bed. She say she needed lie-in after the jet lag. They just got back from Cyprus.’

  ‘Cyprus?’

  Caroline marched up the stairs.

  ‘Kate! KATE!’

  A door clicked open.

  ‘Heinke? Could you keep those bloody children quiet for five seconds?’

  ‘Kate?’

  Kate was wearing an expensive-looking silk night shirt and yawning widely. Caroline glanced at her watch. It was after eleven; she’d been doing the early shift.

  ‘Good holiday?’

  Kate snapped awake. Her eyes went wide.

  ‘Caroline? What on earth are you doing here?’

  ‘Picking your children up off the street. What are you doing?’

  Kate snorted. ‘Oh, thanks for the lecture about children. And who’s been doing all the complaining to Richard about school fees?’

  Suddenly there was a male voice from behind her in the bedroom. Both women froze.

  ‘Darling, it’s no one,’ called back Kate, optimistically. But it was too late. Caroline had already recognised the unmistakable tones of her ex-husband. She felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. So this was where the bastard had been hiding! No wonder she and Kate hadn’t been getting together so much.