Page 30 of The Pop-Up Cake Shop

‘No, no. I just... well, the thing is, I miss you, Katja. That’s all. And I just wanted to let you know that.’

‘Right.’

‘I was thinking today about that great weekend we spent in the Lake District when we first got together. We got soaked climbing that mountain, remember? I can’t recall which mountain it was, but we ended up drying off at that cosy little whitewashed pub in the middle of nowhere?’

I swallowed as the memories of happy times came flooding in.

‘Great End,’ I muttered.

‘Sorry? Look... I know things ended badly and you can’t believe how terrible I feel about it all, but I just want you to know that –’

‘The mountain.’

‘What?’

‘The mountain was called Great End.’

‘Ah, yes. Of course.’ He gave a forced laugh. ‘Very well remembered. And that pub... I can’t remember its name but that log fire was amazing.’

‘The Rose and Crown.’

‘Yes, of course. Of course.’

There was an awkward pause in which I endeavoured to hold it together, taking a last swig from my wine glass.

‘Katja... I wish I could see you, face to face. The project here has finished early so I’ll be back in the UK next week and I was wondering if maybe we could meet up and talk?’

My insides rolled over. Where was Emily in all this? He hadn’t mentioned her at all. Maybe they were over. Had it just been a blip... a sort of holiday romance? She really was so much younger than him. And he and I had so much shared history together...

‘What do you think? Katja?’

My head was in a muddle. I’d vowed never to speak to him again after how he’d treated me. But there were so many questions I wanted to ask him.

So I opened my mouth to say, ‘Okay.’

But at that moment, I heard Emily’s voice in the background, calling out to him.

‘Richard? Mum wants to know if we want to stay with them for a while when we get back to the UK. She and dad really want to have the chance to get to know you.’

I froze.

They were still a couple.

With plans to return to the UK together!

‘Look, we both feel terrible about what happened,’ Richard was saying. ‘And Emily would really like it if we could all meet up... maybe even be friends?’

‘Oh, go to hell, Richard!’ I shouted, ending the call and throwing the phone down.

*****

On Friday, at work in the café, Ellie was still on a high after the launch of our pop-up cake shop.

It had been quite successful for our very first run. After the farmers’ market at Lockley Meadow, we’d stopped to eat lunch in a lay-by on the way to our next stop, which was Primrose Wood. Finally, it was on to the village of Hawksley Rise, before returning to the café. We’d managed to sell more than fifty per cent of the bakes we’d started out with – almost enough to cover the petrol costs – but we’d agreed that word of mouth would likely see demand rise as the weeks went on.

Ellie beamed at me as I brought a plate of fresh sultana scones in from the kitchen. ‘I’ve had so many messages on social media about the Travelling Cake Shop! Most people really like the idea that we’re preventing waste and slashing prices to a level where we’re just breaking even.’

She showed me some of the encouraging messages on her phone.

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