Page 77 of The Cake Fairies
Tuts, frowns, shakes of the head and nods of recognition ensued.
“I’ve trapped her with the business, taken away her freedom to make her own decisions – unintentionally, of course, but still.”
Annabelle was speechless. This she had not expected. And while she was beginning to realise it was more than a little true, surely it couldn’t excuse her recent behaviour?
“Time after time I’ve turned down what could have been dating opportunities for both of us, thinking only of myself. Twenty-five of them to be precise.”
“Is that all?” snorted Kate.
“But my cousin has her life to think about too,” Polly reached over to give Annabelle an endearing rub on the shoulder. Somehow, they both managed to stay atop their peaches. “Perhaps, if we part ways after today, though… perhaps then Alex will take a shine to you. You’re the gorgeous one, after all. I’m sure it’ll happen – if we just let nature take…”
“Oh, Polly! True love doesn’t work like that. You’re the only one who’s authentically beautiful inside and out.” Startled expressions whizzed around the embers of the fire, and Annabelle soon realised she’d dished out a heavy dose of paranoia. “As for me,” she continued with a sniff, “I need a whole lot more work.”
She expelled a guffaw of disgust at herself, which once again seemed to ignite a host of inferiority complexes.
“No, you don’t,” said Polly, and their congregation’s vibe ratcheted up a notch. “Come here. Neither of us has exactly had it easy.”
“The last thing I deserve is a hug,” Annabelle protested meekly.
“Man, this is like… if I don’t put pen to paper now and capture the essence of this… goddammit, I’ve gotta speak with my agent like yesterday and get this quote into my current movie.”
Johnny re-lit his pipe, his eyes twinkling moons; his head clearly racing with ideas. He began to puff greedily.
“I won’t take no for an answer,” said Polly, ignoring the mayhem surrounding them.
“How can you ever forgive me?”
“It takes a desperate situation to back a person into a corner. I got us into this mess.”
Polly’s arms swaddled Annabelle in an embrace, whose sentiment could not be questioned.
“I think this calls for a celebration,” Kate declared to all and non-comatose sundry, for a couple of her friends had fallen into what Annabelle could only hope was a slumber, as the last pinprick flickers of their centrepiece turned to ash.
“This calls for cake,” said Polly.
