Dead on Doughnuts: A Culinary Cozy Mystery (Coffee Shop Mysteries Book 1)

by Sarah Jane Weldon

  The Summer Party, Bleinheim Palace, Oxfordshire: 18th August 2018

  “These are delicious Mrs B” I exclaimed, my mouth full of the flaky pastry tartlet.

  Mrs B had very kindly offered to provide the food for a summer party being hosted by Eloise’s parents and my parents, supposedly in honour of our A’Level results and offer of a place at Oxford University the following year. But really, our results were just an excuse for our parents to do some networking and brag about their recent successes or clients or how much money they had earned. They were lawyers in the same firm, and there was always a lot of competitive spirit amongst the partners and colleagues. It wasn’t a world that Eloise or myself much enjoyed, or wanted to be a part of, but we knew we were fortunate, and that we would never have met each other, were it not for our parents choosing to send us to the private school.

  “Maddy. Over there, twelve o’clock. What do you think he wants from her? Do you think she’ll see through him?” Eloise whispered into my ear, so no one could hear.

  “I don’t know. I think he has sussed out that she’s getting a divorce, and wants to take on her case so that he can get a large fee from her” I answered, eyeing up the lawyer and his potential client as they talked underneath the mulberry tree.

  Our parents had been dragging us to these dull events since we were kids, but we had found our own way to keep ourselves entertained, and we made the most of the opportunity by using it to read people’s thoughts, feelings, and motives. And then at the end of the party, when our parents were dissecting the information they had got out of each conversation, Eloise and I would see who got the most things right, and who scored the most points in our little game. It was all perfectly innocent, but it made the parties and networking events a little more bearable.

  “Ah, there you are Maddy. I’ve got someone I’d like you to meet”. My mother looked especially beautiful in her summer dress and many eyes were upon her as she breezed across the patio of the mansion house, towards the corner where Eloise and I were hiding. “This is Audrey Flandin, daughter of Félix Flandin, you know the man, daddy’s partner in the Paris office. Audrey, this is my daughter Madeleine. She’s a baker like you, she makes the best cakes. Well girls, I’ll leave you to it. I’m sure you have a lot to talk about”. My mother turned on the spot with elegance and wafted off, casting smiles and greetings at the guests as she went.

  The girl Audrey looked quite sour as she looked Eloise and I up and down as if we were covered in filth. “So you BAKE do you? Where exactly did you train?” Audrey raised a perfectly painted, thin eyebrow at me as she surveyed my face. She was a few years older than me, possibly 20 or 21 and it seemed that my mother’s reference to me as a baker had caused great offence.

  “Oh. Maddy makes the best cakes in the world. They really are good. You should come and try them one day. We both work with Mrs B - who made the food for the party - in her coffee shop Mrs Tiggywinkle’s”. Eloise pretended not to notice Audrey’s disgust.

  “How many stars does it have? Is it a Michelin?” Audrey looked at me seriously, and I suddenly felt quite uncomfortable. She was certainly not an easy person to warm to.

  I was determined to keep the conversation light, after all I had done nothing wrong here, and there was no need for her spiteful attitude. “Umm no. I’ve not got any formal training, Mrs B taught me, and it’s the best coffee shop in all of Oxford, I don’t think it needs any Michelin stars. The customer approval is sufficient enough. That might even put people off coming if they thought it was all lardy dah and not a cozy coffee shop with mouthwatering cakes”.

  Audrey seemed determined to steer the conversation back to her own accolades, as if making a point, that we were not to be considered in her league in any shape or form at all. “And what exactly do you study? Or are you still in school?”.

  “Actually, we just got our A’Level exam results a few days ago, so we’re going to have some fun adventures on our gap year now, and then in September next year we’ll start our degrees at Oxford University”. I felt that I was as polite as I could be, and I wasn’t going to be drawn into any competition with her, nor did I have anything to prove.

  But Eloise was not letting Audrey off so lightly, and decided to probe further, knowing that the girl would not be satisfied until she had told us whatever it was that she felt we needed to know about her. “And what about yourself? Do you live in Paris too? Like your father does?”.

  “Actually I’m at the St Joseph’s Culinary School in Paris. Well, I’ve just finished actually. I’m a fully trained pastry chef and father is going to buy me a business so I can have my own shop”.

  Eloise looked serious. Like me, I could sense that she was struggling to work out this strange girl, but she was genuinely impressed by the idea of someone so young owning their own business, and it would be useful for us to get some insight for when we finally set up our detective agency. “Wow. You really are passionate about business, that’s incredible. How very exciting. I bet you can’t wait to get stuck in with designing your own shop, and seeing all those customers enjoying your pastries”.

  Audrey seemed bored of us already. The words came out of her mouth, but her eyes glazed over, suggesting that she was scanning the party for someone more suitable to speak to. “Not really. To be honest, I’m not even sure if I can be bothered with having my own place, but it keeps my father happy and stops him interfering. Very soon I won’t need to work at all, because I come into my own money when I reach 21, so I’ll probably just retire and sit by the pool all day”.

  It was the wrong moment for Eloise to take a sip of champagne, and it almost resulted in Audrey getting a face full of spray as Eloise did her best to control an outburst of laughter. “Aren’t you a bit young to retire? I mean, don’t you want to actually do something with your life. So many opportunities open to you. I don’t know, like travel, or volunteer, or well, do anything? Won’t you be bored sat by the pool all day?”.

  “Bored? Gosh no. I’d have my friends over, like we do every summer at our chateau in St Tropez. There are too many parties to get bored. Like proper parties”. Audrey looked around her to insinuate that this was not actually a party but a mere amateur event. I was already struggling to find things to like about this arrogant girl. I would kill my mother later, for dumping her on us like that. Audrey was simply vile.

  “Well, Eloise and I can’t wait to start our adventure. We’ve both got jobs as baristas at the Snow Mountain Cafe, in the Val D’Isera ski resort, in Austria. We applied for the jobs ages ago without our parents knowing, of course we’ve told them now that we’ve got our exam results, but we didn’t want the grief of having to convince them about us taking a gap year before university. We’ll be working at Mrs B’s coffee shop for the rest of the summer before we leave at the end of November, ready for the ski season’. I was keen to inject a bit of energy into the conversation because I felt myself getting annoyed and wanting to bop this Audrey on the nose and I sensed that Eloise wasn’t far behind me in the punching stakes.

  It was Audrey’s turn to laugh and sneer. “Val D’Isera. Pah! You wouldn’t catch me there in a million years. Father says it is simply the worst resort in the world, so last season. It’s full of, you know, common people and nouveaux rich. Why on earth would you want to go there? Couldn’t you get a job in another, better class of resort? And to work in a coffee shop of all places, how dull?’.

  Eloise was gritting her teeth. “Actually, I’m really looking forward to it. We’ll be able to go skiing and snowboarding for free, whenever we want, and it’ll be great to be in the coffee shop meeting all the resort staff and guests, we’ll be at the hub of the community, earning our own money, and saving for our future”.

  Thankfully, father decided to make a toast at that moment, and as he raised his glass and said a few words to the crowd about how clever we both were in passing our exams, Eloise and I took a step closer to him and smiled, as much to get away from Audrey as anything else. The girl
was exhausting and we hoped to God that we would never have to encounter her again.

  Chapter Four

  Sophia Saner, St Joseph’s Culinary School, Paris, France: 29th August 2018

  Sophia slipped her thin arm into the silky sleeve of her graduation robe and pulled the cloak up and over her shoulders. She couldn’t believe that this day had finally come. All those hours of slaving away in the coffee shop, and taking on work as a cleaner just to make ends meet. Finding the tuition fees alone had been a mammoth task, that seemed impossible, but somehow, she had pulled it off. She placed the graduation board on her head and looked at herself in the mirror. She was 20 years old, but already her face was wrinkled and she could definitely see large black bags under her eyes. “Don’t worry Sophia” she said to herself, as she open her eyes as wide as she could, to try and wake herself up “life is about to change, the hardest part is over”. Sophia turned to the side, she was pleased with how well the gown fitted her, and she was ready for the next stage of life to begin.

  It should have been a difficult day for Sophia, surrounded by her classmates as they were fussed over by doting parents, but somehow she just accepted things and it made her more proud than ever, to know that her success was one hundred per cent down to her. She did not have parents to fund her, or to bail her out so she could buy the best culinary knives or pastry rollers. She had earnt her success through her own blood, sweat, and tears.

  A girl approached her after the ceremony. Sophia recognised her immediately. It was Audrey Flandin, daughter of billionaire Félix Flandin, heiress to a fortune. Sophia didn’t know her that well, but she knew that she didn’t much care for the girl. She was always gloating and everything seemed to be handed to her on a plate. Rumour had it that Audrey had paid the other students to do all her kitchen prep work and assignments, and had barely lifted a finger herself. She knew Sophia’s name of course, but she rarely used it, and only really spoke to Sophia when she wanted something or wanted to big herself up in front of others.

  “Oh hello. Sophia isn’t it? I’m Audrey”.

  “Yes, I know perfectly well who you are. You’re the girl who likes to borrow people’s pastry kit and then fails to return it”. Sophia was usually polite to Audrey but she didn’t feel the need to tolerate her any longer.

  “Haha. You’ve a funny sense of humour. I’m sure you could just buy some new kit if I didn’t return it. Why didn’t you just order a replacement? Honestly, some people. So particular and possessive about mere objects”. Audrey was unsympathetic to all the extra shifts that Sophia had put in just to buy the basic equipment she needed for the course. Or how those extra shifts had impacted on her study time and amount of sleep she was able to snatch each night.

  “Look what father just bought me. Isn’t it divine? Real diamonds and everything. Of course it’s really just costume jewellery, I have other watches for special occasions. This one is just for day to day wear”. Audrey lifted up her wrist to Sophia, the diamonds catching the light as she waved her arm under Sophia’s nose.

  Sophia was sulky. “I suppose. If you like that kind of thing”.

  Audrey flicked her wrist away, not wanting Sophia to get her filthy hands on it. She clearly didn’t appreciate a quality watch when she saw one, but then that was no surprise given her parentage. Of course, Sophia’s parents had died long ago. “Did I tell you I’m off to St Tropez for the rest of the holidays. I am so looking forward to a rest after all the stress of the course. How about you, do you have any plans?”.

  Sophia felt smug for once. It wasn’t often she had news worth celebrating, but things were on the up for her, and she couldn’t wait for Audrey to find out about her new job. “Well, I’ll be starting my life as a pastry chef of course. I’ve got a position with a Michelin star chef and a very highly thought of restaurant in Austria. I start at the end of November, right before the ski resort guests arrive”.

  Audrey was irritated. She had no great desire to be a pastry chef, but she knew how annoyed her father would be to discover that this low class girl had got a better job than his own daughter. Audrey didn’t like to be second best to anyone, and right now she hadn’t applied for any jobs. “A pastry chef? I’m sure you must be mistaken? Surely you don’t have enough experience to go straight in at that level?”.

  Sophia felt triumphant as she produced a crumpled piece of paper from her trouser pocket. It was a job offer, and it was a golden opportunity to rub Audrey’s face in her own glory after years of being bullied and made to feel worthless. “Oh, I’m absolutely certain. You see. Sophia Saner, Head Pastry Chef for the Sébastien Paris Pâtisserie at the Val D’Isera ski resort in Austria. Doesn’t get much better than that, does it?”.

  “Haha. Val D’Isera, you do know that no one who is anyone of importance goes there anymore, right? I’m surprised there is a Michelin star restaurant there at all to be honest. It won’t keep its stars for long if you’re their head baker, let’s be fair”. Audrey sniggered, but she was quite obviously upset by the news.

  Audrey was keen to leave this conversation, and right now any conversation would do “oh Miss DuValle, I wanted to ask you about one of your recipes”. Audrey spotted a tutor she didn’t much like, but it was the only opportunity she could muster up right now for a hasty exit. Audrey walked over to Miss DuValle, leaving Sophia feeling like she had won a battle for once. Yes, things really were on the up for Sophia Saner. Just a couple more months of washing pots in the cafe, and then she would be in Austria, employed in her dream job.

  Chapter Five

  Audrey Flandin’s Penthouse Apartment, Paris, France: 29th August 2018

  Audrey typed the words into the search bar on her computer:

  Stefan Kress, head chef, Sébastien Paris Pâtisserie, Val D’Isera

  Immediately the computer sprang into action, as pages and pages of related search results lined up below the search bar. This Stefan really was the king of pastry chefs, and his restaurant had won many awards. It seemed to be going places, and fast. “Why on earth would they want some skinny girl like Sophia on their payroll? That makes no sense at all”. Audrey spoke out to herself, tapping her painted nails on the desk in front of her. “Sophia Saner, Head Pastry Chef indeed. Well, we’ll soon see about that”.

  Audrey picked up her iPhone. “Call father”. The phone gave a little beep and an automated assistant replied to her command “calling father for you now”. A few seconds passed as the phone dialled the number, and her father fumbled around for his phone.

  “Hi daddy, it’s me. Listen I’ve something important to tell you. I’ve had along hard think, and I’ve decided that I don’t want to go to St Tropez at all now. I want to go to get a job at Sébastien Paris Pâtisserie in Austria”.

  Audrey’s father Félix was matter of fact in his reply. Well used to to the sudden whims of his daughter. “OK darling. I’ll have Rose sort that for you. Anything else?”

  “No daddy, that’s everything”. Audrey hung up the phone, knowing full well that her father’s secretary Rose Landry would have her a job as a pastry chef at this Stefan’s restaurant by the morning. She just needed to find an apartment to live in close to the restaurant, and her father could have one of his planes drop her off. She would leave as soon as possible, she would need to get a head start if she wanted to get Sophia’s job.

  Chapter Six

  Sébastien Paris Pâtisserie, Val D’Isera, Austria: 20th November 2018

  “Well, what do you think?” Audrey removed the silver teaspoon from Stefan’s mouth and ruffled her hand through his hair. She had been dating the owner of the Sébastien Paris Pâtisserie since just a few days after arriving at the ski resort, and the couple had recently got engaged. It was nearly the ski season.

  “It’s OK, but I think it needs a little more vanilla”. Stefan ruminated for a few more moments as he tried Audrey’s latest concoction. She was OK at baking, but she didn’t quite have the x-factor, and he didn’t want the restaurant’s reputation to suffer as a
result. Of course, he couldn’t tell Audrey that. Not if he wanted to keep dating her. So he did what he could to be firm but fair, encouraging but not untruthful. He was already on his second wife, and had recently been dating another young lady, whom he was sure was the one, but then Audrey had come along and he had been swept away by her strong will. She was a tough lady to say no to, and her father was even tougher. If he could keep her father on side, then it would do no end of good for the restaurant, and he really wanted her father to bring in new clients.

  “OK, try this one. I added a little something special to the pastry, to make it a bit lighter in the mouth”. Audrey pressed the spoon edge downwards and into the flaky pastry, scooping it up ready for Stefan’s tastebuds. But the taste test would have to wait a bit longer. His phone was ringing “Sorry sweetheart, business call, we’ll continue this later”. Stefan kissed Audrey on the cheek and ran off, phone to his ear.

  Audrey gathered up the collection of side plates and removed them to the kitchen. She looked red and angry. How dare he walk out on her like that. She should be his sole interest at all times. But it was always work, work, work with him. Only ever interested in his precious stars for the restaurant.

  “How did it go Audrey? Did he like them?” Violetta enquired as she loaded up the dishwasher in the restaurant kitchen.

  “What? Of course not, how could he? I tell you now, if I can’t get him to like any of these cakes before ski season starts, then I’ll be after your blood”. Audrey was fuming.

  Violetta quivered with fear. It wasn’t her fault that Stefan hadn’t been gushing over her cakes. After all, she was just the new girl, and she certainly wasn’t a pastry chef. Stefan had employed her to work as the kitchen porter for a season. Never in a million years had she expected that she would be doing all Audrey’s work, as well as her own. The plan was to spend her free time, outside of work, out on the piste snowboarding, but instead, she was being blackmailed by Audrey, and given twice the workload and three times the bad attitude. It was so unfair.