Page 16 of The Gingerbread Cafe
By the end of the day, Gretel was exhausted, both from rushing around and from carrying the weight of all her thoughts. Amidst the rush, she realised with a pang of guilt she’d hardly had time to miss Nell, or her mum and Rosa. But they were surely still firmly there. This place was the epitome of Christmas, after all.
When she finally stopped to take it all in, she had to admit the café looked like a different place to the pressure cooker it had been over the past couple of weeks. Yes, there was still some mess and mayhem. She wasn’t going to deny children the odd marshmallow fight or froth-blowing competition, and there wasn’t always time to clear tables before the next customers descended. The coffee beast still had its moments and she’d probably never understand all the buttons on that binging till. But it nearly resembled The Gingerbread Café she knew and loved. She almost wished Lukas was there to witness her small success.
Gretel smoothed down her apron and took a deep sigh. She wasn’t stupid. Of course she realised Amber wouldn’t always be there to play tag team. She also knew customers wouldn’t often stay tidily at tables, rather than waving their arms, demanding things and getting cross. Yet for that moment, things were just aboutbearable, even if the word wasn’t quite indicative ofliving your best life.
Although now she had two more things weighing on her mind. Should she be worried about the link between Lukas and Francesca Whimple? And for all this Christmassy-ness, how was she going to get through her first Christmas Day by herself, now that Nell was gone too?
Chapter 15
It was just one day to get through. Just. One. Day.
Gretel puffed her way up the frosty hill, Angel Gabriel tucked safely under one arm. Her ferrety companion looked extra cute in his snowman jumper, even if she did say so herself. Some might find it odd that she was wearing a matching version under her green fluffy coat, but what did that matter? She wasn’t planning on seeing anyone that day. Not a soul. Because it was officially Christmas Day.
Having been out for their festive morning walks and done their rounds of visiting, most of the village would be tucked up in their Cotswold stone houses. Gretel imagined them warming their faces around cosy lit fires and unwrapping presents around twinkling Christmas trees, soaking up the love of family and close friends. She plastered on a jolly smile even though there was no one there to see it.
There was also no one to witness the flashing snowflake deely boppers she’d decided to wear to remind herself to stay cheery. Surely no one could be sad in deely boppers? Every time she moved her head the springs jiggled like an alarm to her brain.Be merry. You’ve got this.
She hadn’t been expecting to feel this way, on what was meant to be her ultimate time of year. But this Christmas, withNell gone too, the day was like a stark reminder that now she had precisely no one. She shook her head and blinked back a tear.
Since she’d lived in the village, her Christmas Days had always been spent at The Gingerbread Café. The place stayed closed on that day, but in the early years, with her mum and Nell having been so close and Nell never having remarried, Gretel, Rosa and their mum would pile in and eat their Christmas dinner with Nell. Nell would cook up a delicious feast and spoil them with gingerbread Christmas pudding. In return, the three of them would shower Nell with homemade gifts and trinkets, breaking with the usual Austrian tradition of giving presents on Christmas Eve. In fact, they’d come to embrace the English ways more and more, especially Gretel. She never would forget Nell in the knitted gingerbread man cardi her mother had lovingly made. It had suited her to perfection.
After Gretel’s mum and Rosa died, the Christmas Day tradition had continued, albeit a more sombre affair at first, and with less impressive knitwear. But now, there was no Nell either. She looked up to the sky and wondered if they were watching on. Well, at least there was no one to make her eat sprouts today. Tomorrow would be better.
Angel Gabriel wrestled under her armpit and she gave in with a sigh that made the air steamy. ‘I know, I know. You want to play in the frost, you rebel.’ She placed him down gently in the glittering grass, holding his lead whilst he sniffed and wriggled. ‘We might even get a few flakes of snow today, boy. What do you think?’
Rosa had adored the snow. She remembered them both lying on their backs on this same hill, making snow angels, their mum chiding them about their damp woollens.When will I get to be a real angel?Rosa had asked, her eyes alight with the thought of it. Little had they known. Gretel fought up her sleeve for a tissue, the hot tears falling.
‘Enough.’ She shook her head, the deely boppers flashing in support. Rosa would have loved those too.
At least she had Angel Gabriel, and he enjoyed the snow, even though it only took a few inches of the stuff for his snowy white body to disappear. She blinked away the thought. The little creature was the only living thing in her world this Christmas. Which was fine, of course. It was a crisp afternoon, and as a person who wasn’t into company, she would embrace this peaceful walk. It would be quiet. Refreshing. Some time to herself without all thenoisepeople brought.
The cold air felt bracing and with Angel Gabriel bobbing along at her side, the pair continued their route up the hill. Their crunchy footsteps were heading towards the bench with Gretel’s favourite views of the village. The patch of pine trees at the top of the hill beyond the bench glistened with frost like iced decorations on a Christmas cake.
Every now and then Gretel stopped to turn around and take in the sight below. It never failed to amaze her how tiny the houses looked from there, nestled in the valley of the hills, windows twinkling and chimneys puffing out woodsmoke.
It wasn’t until they reached her favourite bench that Gretel let her eyes search out Green Tree Lane. It stretched out unassumingly in the centre of the village, a huge light-speckled Christmas tree sitting proudly at its heart. Gretel hadn’t grown up in the village, but since she’d arrived when she was nine with her mum and baby Rosa, that majestic tree and the quaint little street had felt like the deeply rooted core of everything.
The tree had been planted there decades ago and presided all year round, even though it had considerably fewer working lights than in years gone by. But even without its full display of lights it felt symbolic. Angel Gabriel ferreted around her snow boots and she scooped him up, snuffling her nose against his.
‘Just me and you this year,’ she said as she found the part of the bench which would do the least splinter damage to her mistletoe-patterned woolly tights.
Gretel placed Angel Gabriel on her lap and put her crochet bag on the bench beside her, pulling out a tissue to dry him off. She let him burrow under the hem of her fluffy coat to keep warm whilst she double-checked that she’d packed the food. A paper bag full of broken gingerbread body parts, being the sad rejects from that morning’s unsuccessful baking – she was still trying to master the art of making gingerbread people. She shuddered at the memory of all that mess she’d left behind in the café’s kitchen. After another ruined batch of baking and a few tears and tantrums, she’d lost the will to tidy. Not that she’d ever had it. Well, at least she’d thought to bring leftovers, and Angel Gabriel’s favourite ferret treats too. Some would say all was not lost.
‘Tea for two, little man. What more could a girl need?’
The question hung in the still, dewy air and Gretel wished she could take it back. It was a silly thing to say when there was surely nothing more that she could want for. She shook her head, the snowflake deely boppers twanging to remind her of her quest to stay jolly.
‘Sugary Christmas leftovers for two is just fine! Nothing sad about that.’ She let out a high-pitched laugh that seemed to echo through the trees behind.
‘Nothing sad at all,’ a deep voice replied from above her head. ‘Could you make it three?’
Gretel squealed and jumped up, spinning towards the noise and catapulting Angel Gabriel from her lap. The ferret writhed in the air and was swiftly caught by a strong pair of hands, which she assumed had been attached to the voice.
‘Geeeeeeez, Lukas! What the hell are you doing sneaking up on people on deserted hillsides?’ Gretel gasped for air and pattedherself down frantically, making sure her skirt hadn’t flown up around her knickers. She could feel her deely boppers pinging and flashing like an intruder alarm.
‘I was taking a walk in the wood. What the hell are you doing floating about by yourself on high, with gigantic flashing snowflakes on your head? You do know planes might mistake you for a runway and come in to land?’
She opened her mouth to defend her headgear, but realising they probably weren’t her most solid fashion choice, promptly shut it again. His dark jeans, hiking boots and green parka with furry hood combo looked annoyingly stylish. She couldn’t even have a secret laugh at his stupid rubber chef’s clogs today.
