Page 14 of The Gingerbread Cafe
Did Amber’s eyes just widen? But she was quick. ‘Nah, no way. I live in Lower Paddleton, anyway. And that guy’s far too terrifying to work with. So I’ve heard.’
Gretel couldn’t argue with that, so the nameScary Lukaswas born.
‘Look, I don’t want anything formal. But if you’re stuck, I don’t mind helping out here and there. I can see you seriously need it.’ Amber looked around the place, which hadn’t filled up with customers yet but still showed signs of devastation from after the last shift, when Gretel had run out of steam and had gone home to sob into her ferret.
Gretel, beyond caring about being offended, gave a grateful bob up and down in her snow boots, before stopping herself, feeling a little self-conscious next to cool and collected Amber.
Amber put up a hand like she was calming a child. ‘And don’t put me on the books or tell that scary guy about me, yeah? Just keep me fuelled with hot drinks and gingerbread and I’ll do what I can when I’m around.’
Don’t put her on the books? Well, Gretel didn’t even have any books, whatever those were. She was happy enough with limited commitment, knowing she’d want to leg it most days too. And so the footloose agreement was made and Gretel scuttled to the window to whip down the notice before Lukas saw it. Amber was quick enough at disappearing and he didn’t have to know everything. It would suit her last scraps of pride if he thought she was getting on top of things without admitting she needed help.
As clunky as it had felt at first, trying to work alongside another person when Gretel was only used to the company of apple strudel and her angelic ferret, after a while she and Amber clicked into a routine of sorts. Nobody would be giving Gretel the café owner of the year badge anytime soon, but customers were arriving, being served with something vaguely resembling what they’d ordered and not leaving in a huff. She’d take that as a tiny win.
Gretel and Amber zipped about, clearing empty gingerbread plates and taking more orders for cinnamon hot chocolates with all the frills. Nobody needed to know that Gretel had given up and bought in the mouth-watering selection of gingerbread at a not insubstantial cost. Not all miracles could happen in a day, and at least people were nodding and smiling again.
As she and Amber chatted in short bursts as they moved around the café, its tinsel twinkling in the glow from the candles and string lights, Gretel could sense a strange warmth filling an empty part of her. What was that? It wasn’t the usual hot panicshe felt as she rushed around by herself, fighting to stay on top. It was more like … a sense of purpose? Being part of something? Maybe that was why Nell had loved this place so much.
‘So you inherited this café from the lady who used to own it?’ Amber asked, when they were out of earshot of customers.
Gretel felt a tightness in her throat, her initial impulse to clam up. Yet as she looked at Amber, busy wiping down the previously uncontrollable coffee beast that they’d mastered together, she felt a strange affinity. And Nell had always approved of a little chit-chat.
‘Yes, Nell left half of the café to me. Our little family moved to the village when I was nine, and Nell and the café became our place. You know, it’s hardly changed a bit. Still so Christmassy all year long. Nell was friends with my mum, and then …’ Gretel swallowed hard and busied herself with her notepad. ‘Then she became kind of like a replacement mum.’ She wasn’t used to talking about it, or about anything much, since Nell had shimmied off and left her. Yet it felt strangely easy to chat to Amber.
‘Oh shit. Did you lose your mum?’
‘Yes,’ Gretel heard herself saying. ‘And my …’
But Gretel got pulled away by a small girl asking for a gingerbread lady and she was glad of the distraction. It was always hard to talk about Rosa.
By the time Gretel and Amber had a breather to reconvene by the wayward jukebox, theandpart of the conversation had been forgotten. It was often the easiest way. Gretel sent a silent apology to the heavens.
‘I’m sorry about your mum.’ Amber reached out and squeezed Gretel’s arm. To Gretel’s surprise, she didn’t experience her usual compulsion to shrink away from the kindness. She swallowed the tightness creeping up her throat and tried not to feel pathetic at how much the simple gesture had warmed her.
‘Thanks.’
‘You probably don’t want to say too much in the middle of a hectic café, but if you ever need to talk …’ Amber shrugged.
‘You too,’ Gretel mumbled quickly.
Amber leaned back against the jukebox and eyed Gretel briefly like she was tempted to share something, then shook her head. The bright red and green jukebox lights flashed against her black and white exterior, making Gretel wonder if she really was one of Santa’s helpers.
‘So, are you planning to keep this place and make it good?’ Amber looked around at the bustling tables. ‘No offence, but it’s only busy once a year. Christmas in January always seems pretty lame. Although the whole of Green Tree Lane is freakishly quiet for most of the year. They say it’s not what it used to be.’
Amber spoke the words like they were obvious, rather than like a person who was trying to be mean, but Gretel couldn’t help feeling defensive. The little robins on her hand-knitted jumper were all but pecking in retaliation.
She knew twelve months of Christmas, year in year out, seemed weird to most people. It was only meant to be twelve days according to the song, and there’d been times when she’d tried to break free. Really there had. But that was another reason having people in her life was never going to work out – too many questions and a whole lot of funny looks. Gretel’s childhood had been full of both and she’d promised herself that as an adult she would keep them at bay. She was a partridge in a pear tree flying solo, after all. Nobody needed all of those drummers drumming or any amount of calling birds.
Though as the jukebox lights turned Amber as golden as her name, Gretel felt strangely moved to share a few nuggets of truth. So as they resumed their tidying mission around the café, she continued, at a whisper. ‘I just want to keep things as they are. For Nell. But I’ve got no clue what I’m doing, and Lukas,who’s inherited the other half, just wants to sell once the legal stuff is sorted. That’ll probably take six months, but until it’s decision time, I want to do Nell proud.’
‘And when it’s decision time?’ asked Amber.
A customer came past asking for extra mini marshmallows and Amber grabbed Gretel’s pad and wrote it down. Her hand felt empty without the pad she’d forgotten she was clinging to.
‘I hope he decides he doesn’t want to sell,’ said Gretel, and as soon as she said it, she realised it was true.
‘What, you actually want to stay in business with that scary guy?’
‘Erm, no!’ Gretel fiddled with her apron strings. ‘I guess I’m just afraid to lose the café because … I’ve already lost enough.’
