The dreaded closed sign is displayed on the door, which means the café is late to open again. The bell rings as I push my way inside. Molly appears from behind the counter with a tray of cups, and I hurry to help her.
“You knew I was on my way. Why didn’t you wait?” I say, taking the tray. Kayleigh doesn’t seem to be here yet. I begin to stack the cups onto the shelf, trying to hide my annoyance.
“Thank you for your help. Where is my granddaughter?” Molly asks.
I turn to see Jody hovering in the doorway. She waves but doesn’t attempt to move farther into the shop. Ignoring them both, I turn back to my task. After filling up the hot water tank, setting out the cakes, and filling up the sugar bowls, I find I’m alone, so I go to find Molly. Her café has a small cottage attached to it. They’re in the living room when I locate them.
“How beautiful is my youngest granddaughter?” Molly asks me. Jody turns pink with a blush, but I’m in no mood for sweet talk. I don’t like new people staying in the village, especially attractive ones like her.
“Sure, she’s pretty if you like that sort of thing.” I try to sound unimpressed, but I’m not blind. Jody’s drop-dead gorgeous, even if she appears to be high maintenance. I usually prefer women with less make up and grooming habits. She’s not my usual natural carefree type. Even after tackling the hill, she still looks perfect.
Clover Bay is about heritage, natural beauty, and culture. Everything this girl is not. A girl like Jody doesn’t belong here in our small village.
Kayleigh, Molly’s employee, is the only exception to the rules in Clover Bay, but that’s completely different because it’s a subcultural choice to do with her love for rock music. She belongs here as much as I do.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jody asks, putting her hand on her hip.
“Ignore him. He isn’t good with new people.” Molly counteracts my harsh comment, glaring at me.
I’m being rude, but I can’t help it. Even her harmonious voice gets under my skin. Talking on the phone to her was bad enough because it made me curious, and I don’t want to be thinking about her at all. Seeing her in person is something else. She’s a temptation I don’t want to get to know in case I’m wrong about her and she’s actually down to Earth.
“Isn’t this a seaside hotspot? Aren’t new people here all the time?” She rubs her chin in confusion.
“Adam makes the deliveries, so he doesn’t have to play nice with the visitors.” She smiles like her answer explains everything.
I scowl at Molly, although she’s speaking the truth. We’ve never spoken about my past, but I’m a creature of habit. I’m happy to keep my head down and be overlooked by the tourists. Everyone knows I’m only friendly with the locals.
“I need to get a move on if I want to finish my round before teatime. I’ll check in with you tomorrow morning unless you need anything else.”
Molly pats my shoulder with her good arm and the corner of my mouth twitches into an almost smile. As I leave, I hear a mumbled thank you from Jody, but I don’t turn around.
After finishing my work for the day, I walk Dax, my spaniel, along the beach. In the distance, I see Jody standing outside the front of the café, but I don’t acknowledge her. A gust of wind blows her scarf, and she chases the scrap of material. It moves along the window as she tries to hunt it down. Finally, she pins it with her arm. Her whole body is pressed against the glass. My lip turns up in amusement. Maybe she isn’t quite as put together as I originally thought. She intrigues me, although I wish she didn’t. I keep my pace even and head through the cutting to avoid her.
My house is at the end of the bay. It’s tucked away from view, surrounded by tall trees. The white brickwork needs a fresh coat of paint, and the rickety fence could use some attention. I’ve lived here my whole life, and I can’t imagine being anywhere else.
My dad’s in the kitchen making tea when I enter our cottage. I fill Dax’s water bowl and stroke his soft brown fur. After gulping up the water, he lies on the rug and closes his eyes.
I unlace my boots, pick up my book, and sit on a wooden stool. My dad places a plate of food in front of me and joins me at the table. Fish is an easy option for food when he likes to spend all his time in the ocean. We don’t speak while we tuck into the fresh sea bass. The familiar silence settles between us, which isn’t uncomfortable. Since my mum died, neither of us feels the need to fill the silences. We function well together without needing to make small talk.
I wash our plates in the sink, feed Dax, and uncap two bottles of beer. I pass one to my dad before disappearing to my room. Yesterday, I checked on Molly around this time, but now she has Jody.
I don’t want to think about the new girl, but her grandmother was right. She’s beautiful, and I can’t help the interest she spikes within me. Why was it so easy for her to drop her life in Manchester and come to help Molly? I shake the thought immediately. I don’t want to think about her life back home. The population of Clover Bay is declining. We haven’t had a new permanent resident in over forty years. This is partly because Clover Bay is so small, but also because there isn’t much here. We’re not close to a city or any new developments. The new girl isn’t looking for a fresh start in a forgotten village, and I need to forget all about her. She’s only here for a short time, so getting to know her would be a mistake.
I open my book and settle on my bed for the night. The strong glow of the lamp tells me time has slipped away. Living the life of someone else is my escape. Fighting mythical creatures is better than facing my own demons any day of the week.
Five
Jody
Thursday
I fill the teapot with boiling water, making sure I have a firm grip on the teabag strings. I don’t want to make the same rookie mistake for the third time, so I use the towel to put the lid on instead of burning my fingers. Working in the café is harder than I thought, and Gran only has one other employee, Kayleigh. Between us, we haven’t had a minute to spare. Groups of tourists have been dropping in and out all day long. I don’t blame them for wanting a drink after tackling the huge cliff. It’s more than a hill; it’s more like a mountain. I’d be happy to never face it again, even if it means staying here forever.
Kayleigh returns from taking a tray of sandwiches to a table. She leans against the wooden counter, rubbing her forehead upwards into her hairline. I’m envious of her midnight black hair and sleeve of tattoos. I’m a blank canvas in comparison to her bold beauty.
“The afternoon tea rush should be over soon. I’m in desperate need of a coffee break,” Kayleigh says, tapping the screen of her watch. Another couple enters the café and takes a seat at one of the tables to look at the menu. Kayleigh picks at the edge of a piece of peeling wallpaper, and I’m itching to find a glue stick to pin it back down.
The quaint tearoom has an old-fashion charm about it, with its faux plant theme, mismatched cutlery, and odd-sized tables. The whole village has a vintage style, but the café could use a modern touch. It blends with its surroundings, but with a little love, it could shine bright.
We never came here as children because it’s so far away, but maybe I should’ve made more of an effort. I’m curious about the village and I want to know more. My mum always worked too much while we were growing up. We only have one major holiday to the south of France each year, and my gran was always happy to get her own flights.
I sway from side to side while holding onto the counter. “I don’t know how you do this job every day. My feet are killing me.”
A good pair of sensible shoes is on my list of essentials, along with some decent shampoo and a dressing gown. Fragment soap, beach balls, and handmade gifts are all the shops seem to offer. The Botanist is the only place to get a decent cup of tea, which is crazy compared to the hundreds of shops scattered around Manchester. There’s also only one pub and an ice-cream parlour. I’m not used to having a limited choice, and it feels like I’ve stepped back in time.
Kaylei
gh blows a bubble with her gum, which pops loudly over her face. She’s six years older than me but doesn’t act like it. She’s very laid back when it comes to her motivation. It’s a refreshing change from listening to my sister nagging at me, even if Kayleigh was an hour late for work. She walked into the café like she hadn’t even noticed the time.
“One day I’m going to leave Clover Bay and never look back.” She licks the gum from around her mouth to gather it back up.
“Oh, yeah. What’s your master plan?”
“To find a rich husband and walk off into the sunset.” Her expression is serious, and I wait for her to continue with the bigger picture. A giggle escapes her lips before a full-blown laugh. I smile at her. Kayleigh is the first person I’ve found who doesn’t seem to have all the answers, and I like it. Who cares that she’s always late and unenthusiastic about her job?
“Have you always lived here?”
“It’s a hard place to escape.”
“My mum did.”
“Okay, your mum is the exception to the rule, but that has more to do with running away.”
My eyebrows wrinkle together. I don’t have a clue what she’s talking about, and her next word confuses me even more.
“Adam.”
“Adam?” My eyebrows knit together in confusion.
She points to the front of the café, where Adam is struggling to carry a large box. One of the customers holds the door open for him while Kayleigh and I watch him. He’s wearing a grey fitted shirt, showing off his toned body. I wish he didn’t have an effect on me. His shaggy brown hair covers his eyes, which I’m sure will be as cold as yesterday. When he’s made his way to the back of the store, he drops the box on the floor beside me. Without a word, he leaves me staring at the parcel. The label reads flour, and my stomach fills with dread. I thought my sister was talking hypothetically when she mentioned baking cupcakes. He returns with sugar and butter. I haven’t moved from my dazed spot. The buns on the counter aren’t delivered, they’re freshly made, and I think I’m in trouble. Working in the café so my gran can rest is completely different from preparing all the food. I hope she doesn’t think I can bake because I most certainly can’t. Kayleigh collects a tip from one of the large parties and puts it into the jar. The group of ladies gets up to leave.
“I’m taking a break,” Kayleigh says, not noticing my distress. She scrunches up her apron and hurries outside. The plates need clearing from the table, but I don’t move. Adam places a bag of chocolate chips on top of the boxes before meeting my gaze. He runs his hand over his face while he studies me.
“Is everything okay?” he asks. Concern flickers over his face, but he recovers quickly. Maybe he isn’t as heartless as he makes out.
I brush a strand of hair off my face and pull myself together. “Sure. Why wouldn’t it be?”
I fake a smile rather than share my doubts. People watch cooking shows all the time. An online video can hopefully talk me through a recipe. Or I could tell my grandmother I’m not up to the task. Either way, I don’t need to unload my dilemma on Adam. A new customer walks up to the counter, and I fulfil their takeout drinks order. While I’m busy, Adam scoops up the dirty dishes and takes them into the kitchen. I sneak a glance at him, but I can’t read his expression through the tassel door curtain. I put the used teapot and china cups from a vacant table onto a tray and follow him into the kitchen. He holds his hands out to take them from me. The smile is missing from his face, making me unsure of myself. I lean over him to place the tray on the counter. He smells of men’s cologne and sea salt, which makes me involuntarily lick my lips before edging away from him.
“Thanks for helping,” I mumble.
“I didn’t do it for you,” he says in his usual cold tone.
We study each other. Adam’s frosty exterior is plain for me to see, and it makes me nervous. At least he has a soft spot for my gran, even if it doesn’t extend to me. He must have a good heart underneath his tough-guy act. Not that Adam’s friendship matters to me. In a few weeks, I’ll be back in Manchester, and Clover Bay will be another job reference to add to my growing C.V.
“Thanks anyway.” I quickly exit the kitchen, finding a newly formed queue in the café. I don’t know how my gran does this every day. She must be quick on her feet. Each time I stop for a breather, I notice another five jobs that need doing. I serve the new arrivals and wipe down the vacant tables.
The curtain covering the back door moves, and I expect to see Kayleigh. Instead, it’s my gran. She smiles, and I’m thankful everything is running smoothly. Adam appears at just the right moment to offer her a clean cup. I make her a pot of tea and she sits on a chair at a nearby table.
“I see my delivery has arrived in time,” she says, looking at the almost empty dessert stand.
“Yes, you’re all set. I’d better head out. I have one more box to deliver before I’m done for the day. I’ll check back in with you later,” Adam says to my gran, but he’s looking at me. I wonder if he saw through my lie, sensing the panic I feel knowing I might be in over my head.
He gives a small, confusing nod before heading for the door. Was he being friendly or dismissing himself?
“Take your time. My Jody has everything under control.” My eyes widen at her words, but she’s not finished yet. “I’ll save you something from tonight’s baked treats for your hard work. I’m sure Jody’s baking skills will be as good as her mother’s, considering they learnt from the best,” Gran says with pride, and he smiles faintly at me before exiting the shop. It’s his first friendly gesture towards me, or maybe it was for show. Either way, it does nothing to calm my nerves.
Gran smiles at me, and I try not to cringe as a sinking feeling settles in my stomach. My mum never had the patience to teach me how to bake. Hannah is the one who follows in her footsteps. She seemed to grasp it quicker than me, and my mum never wanted to give me the extra time. I should come clean and admit I need help. With a bit of supervision, maybe my cookies will be tasty, or at the very least, edible. Just as I’m about to speak up, Kayleigh limps into the café and I miss my window of opportunity.
“I’m sorry, Molly. I’ve twisted my ankle and need to go home,” she says.
“It’s okay, you can go. We can manage the last hour, can’t we, Jody?”
I nod, and Kayleigh exits the café without a second glance. Gran takes the last few orders while I clean up. By five p.m., we have the closed sign in place.
“It means a lot to me that you came,” she says, hugging me tightly.
“I’m glad I came too.” A sense of warmth washes over me.
My emotions are all over the place, but I do feel helpful here. It may not be my dream job, but I’m appreciated. My gran seems to be an understanding person, and full of second chances. Plus, she can’t fire me even if I majorly mess up because we’re family, and she needs my help. I should tell her about my lack of skills in the kitchen, but seeing the pride on her face makes me want to try and be the person she thinks I am.
Six
Jody
Friday
It’s official. I can’t bake. Three batches of burnt cookies and I give up. The smell of cremated ash is embedded into my nostrils. My poor taste buds will never be the same again. The first batch was black, the second was rock hard, and this final attempt is anything but edible. I’ve seen better-looking lumps of coal. It’s now quarter past midnight, and I have a bin full of wasted ingredients without any success.
I hit dial on my best friend’s number while wiping a frustrated tear from my cheek.
“Are you outside my house?” The hope in her voice makes me pause.
“What? No. I’m in Clover Bay.”
“Then why are you calling so late?”
“Nigella Lawson can’t teach me to bake, and you’re my plan B.”
“I don’t think phone a friend is an option on a cooking show.”
I laugh, already feeling the dark cloud lifting. “I’m in over my head. How does that famou
s saying go? I’m up a creek without a paddle. I don’t know why I agreed to come to this stupid village when I can’t even hold a rubbish housekeeping job for more than a few weeks. Tell me what to do, Sarah?”
“Can’t you go to a shop and buy some cookies you can pretend you made?”
“I’m pretty certain that wouldn’t work. What would I do, put them in the oven to crisp up the edges so they look more authentic?” Using sarcasm probably isn’t helping my situation, but it’s better than having a full meltdown.
“Tell me what you have in the cupboards, and we’ll come up with something,” she says calmly.
“I don’t know, the usual kind of things… flour, bread, milk, cereal, baked beans…”
“Wait. What kind of cereal?”
“The regular kind.”
“Okay, smartass. Can you make cornflake buns? All you need is chocolate and cornflakes. It’s super easy.”
“I have Rice Krispies and cooking chocolate.”
“Winner, winner, give that cat some dinner.”
“I don’t think that’s how that saying is supposed to go.” I laugh. Sarah is good at cheering me up.
“Have you put the pan on?”
I rummage through the drawer for the saucepan. I pick the smallest one out and put it onto the hob. “Okay, it’s ready to cook.”
Although, I’m not sure I ever will be.
“Turn the heat down.”
I roll my eyes then do as she asks. “It’s on low.”
“Add the chocolate. When it’s melted, you just need to stick the Rice Krispies together and your job is done. Have you put some bun papers into a tray?”
The Heart of Baker’s Bay Page 3
