Page 38 of The Pop-Up Cake Shop

The woman called Carol made a face at him. ‘Yes, but you’re weird. Yuk, I’d never dream of serving somethingthatold!’

He shrugged. ‘As long as you put plenty of booze in your Christmas cake, it would be absolutely fine.’ He looked at herquestioningly. ‘So are we buying the Bakewell tarts or not? I’ve got this rugby match I want to watch.’

The woman wrinkled her nose rudely and shook her head.

‘Well, if you’re not going to buy those, they’re mine,’ said a booming voice, and we all turned to find Ivan standing there, wearing something very peculiar on his head. It looked like an upturned cake tin with an aerial protruding from the top of it.

‘Welcome back, ladies. I’ve missed your smiles. And your doughnuts.’ He grinned at me when he said this last bit, and I knew Caleb must have told him about my doughnut confusion last time.The sneak!I could just imagine them having a proper old guffaw at my expense.

Ignoring his unique headgear, I gave him a withering look. ‘So how many tarts would you like?’

‘Well, now, there’s a question.’

I sighed inwardly at his childishdouble entendre. ‘Very funny, Ivan. How manyBakewelltarts would you like?’

‘It wasn’t meant to be funny, actually. I was just trying to work out how many of the lads are on site today.’

‘Eight, including me,’ called a familiar voice, and I looked over and saw Caleb at the neighbouring stall.

‘Okay, boss.’ Ivan grinned at me. ‘It’s my turn to buy the cakes.’

Heat rushed into my cheeks. I’d done it again. Jumped to an embarrassingly wrong conclusion. And apparently the irritating Caleb had heard every word!

I glanced at Ellie and I could see from the set of her mouth that she was finding all this highly entertaining, but was trying not to show it.

When I made eye contact with her, she pointed at Ivan and then at her head and mimed,What on earth’s that?

I shrugged, just as I spied the woman who’d been worried about sell-by dates staring transfixed at Ivan’s head and beingdragged away by her partner, who was presumably intent on getting home in time for the rugby.

I glanced over at Caleb, just in time to see him being handed a big bunch of yellow roses. Who was he buying them for? Not that I was terribly interested...

‘So what do you think? Cool, eh?’ Ivan struck a pose for me, turning this way and that. ‘I thought I might wear it for my date tonight.’

I nodded. ‘Hm, very sexy. Who’s the lucky woman?’

‘Erm.’ He looked bemused for a moment. ‘Good question. Caroline? I think it’s Caroline. Although it could be Katie. No, Katie was definitely last week... the Chinese restaurant.’

I laughed. ‘So you’re making up for lost time after your break-up by dating every woman you meet?’

‘Trying hard.’ He grinned. ‘Fancy joining the list?’

‘Er, no, thanks. I’ll pass for now. Although how any woman could resist you when you’re wearing that weird thing on your head...’

‘It’s called a radio hat. I love finding ancient gadgets like this on antique stalls.’

‘Aradio hat?’ I laughed. ‘What on earth’s that?’

‘Well, it’s one of these. Obviously,’ smirked Ivan, being deliberately obtuse.

‘Well, I’ve never seen anything like it.’ Glancing around, neither had anyone else by the looks of things. People were walking by, grinning and pointing. ‘It looks like something knocked up by a twelve-year-old in metalwork class.’

Ivan pretended to be offended. ‘Hey, this is areal antique. I had a chat with the nice old fella who runs the stall and he told me the radio hat was invented by an American in the 1940s and they were “all the rage” at the time. People must have thought they were really cool, walking around with such an up-to-the-minute gadget on their head and being able to listen to the radio on their way to work or on the subway.’

‘Yeah. Really cool, Ivan.’ I started to laugh, he looked so ridiculous, and Caleb – paying for his roses – flashed us a disapproving look. Ivan was going to get into trouble from the boss for time-wasting if he wasn’t careful.

I turned away from Caleb and smiled at Ivan. ‘You do realise you look like a complete plonker with that ridiculous aerial sticking out of your head. In fact, I’m not sure there ever was such a thing as a radio hat. I think your “nice old fella” is laughing all the way to the bank.’

‘No, it was a thing. I promise you. Google “radio hat photos” and you’ll see for yourself.’

---