Page 17 of The Gingerbread Cafe
‘I wasn’t hanging about by myself,’ she replied.
‘No, of course. You brought your trusty guard dog with you. Wise choice.’ He held Angel Gabriel up to get a better look at him. Gretel noticed with mild irritation that her usually fidgety ferret seemed perfectly calm in his hands. ‘He’s actually quite cute. Did you knit this?’
‘He’s not a dog, he’s—’
‘The knitting’s good, but your ribbing’s a bit tight here.’ She narrowed her eyes and snatched her ferret back. ‘What do you know about rib stitch?’ Hers wasn’t the best, but knitting wasn’t her craft. At least she gave things a go. ‘Are you a Michelin-starred knitter now too?’
He held his hands up. ‘Hey, no Michelin stars here. And you’re right. I know nothing about knitting. Just a wild guess.’
Lukas moved around to the front of the bench and took a deep breath as he looked at the view. Gretel watched his torso expanding and vowed to completely ignore the wobbly feeling in her legs. It was clearly just some subconscious womany thing because he was looking all primal, but she had no space in her life for that madness. Mother Nature would have to jog straight past – her poor fragile heart was firmly closed for business.That was a fact. She hugged Angel Gabriel to her chest, then shimmied him into her pocket, sensing he was peaceful enough for a nap.
‘Stunning, isn’t it?’ Lukas pointed to the view, looking wistful. ‘Do you come up here a lot too?’
She resisted her initial impulse to bat his question away. ‘It’s one of my favourite spots, though I only come here when it’s likely to be quiet,’ she ventured.
As she looked at his profile she could see the corners of his eyes creasing into a smile. ‘You don’t like sharing a bench either.’ He nodded slowly, like that was perfectly natural.
‘Not really.’ Did that sound harsh? He’d been riling her since he’d arrived and yet somehow she didn’t want to send him fleeing from her precious bench just yet. She remembered the Whimple woman saying Christmas had been a time of heartbreak for him, although Gretel still didn’t know why. Maybe he needed some kindness today too.
‘Fair enough, you got here first. Should I go?’
‘No! I mean … stick around for a bit if you must. It is Christmas Day. I’m not the Grinch.’
He turned to look at her, his cool grey eyes seeming to take her in. Her breath caught in her throat for a moment. The lightest of smiles played across his lips. As she subtly rubbed her oddly clammy hands against her coat, she realised what he was probably smirking at. She’d said she wasn’t the Grinch, yet there she was padded out in a fluffy green coat that looked not unlike Grinch fur. Class. Clown. If he dared point it out …
‘No, of course you’re not the Grinch. That’s me. Can I park my grouchy self here?’ He nodded at the bench and she felt touched that he was treating her like she was in charge for a change.
She nodded and they sat, perching tentatively on the edge. Gretel was also aware she wanted to quiz Lukas about FrancescaSwingy Bob Whimple, but she couldn’t face that can of worms just yet. There was something intriguing her more.
‘You never did finish telling me why you’re so Grinchy about Christmas.’
He blew out his cheeks and raked a hand through his steely coloured hair. Was it odd that she found it fascinating to watch the thickness of it stir and then settle again?
‘Didn’t I? Then it’s a long story.’
Why did people always say that and how long could a story be? But she understood the desire to keep things to yourself.
Lukas undid the zip on the backpack that was at the side of him and eased out a small tin. ‘Talking of matters of the heart, maybe I can share something else instead.’ He looked around, although they were the only ones left on that darkening winter’s afternoon. ‘Shh, just this once. Or people will think I’m going as soft as these.’
Chapter 16
Lukas opened the box to display the most beautiful gingery lebkuchen biscuits Gretel had ever seen. They reminded her of the ones she used to eat with her mum at Christmas markets around Europe, and Nell had loved to bake them for the café too. Lukas’s were little hearts and stars, some dipped in the darkest chocolate, others coated in a sugary glaze and the rest laced with delicately piped icing. But oh, the smell. Even on a cold winter’s day on the side of a Cotswold hill, the fragrance from the small box was just divine: like honey, orange and a mix of spices twirling together in a dance. Gretel closed her eyes and breathed it in, almost wanting to stick her tongue out and taste the memories on the air. Love, family, friendship …
A wave of sadness rose up from her stomach and threatened to burst from her throat. She squeezed her eyelids together, desperate not to break into a sob. What was wrong with her suddenly? They were just biscuits.
‘Are you OK?’ Lukas placed a hand on her arm, his voice uncertain.
Gretel took a deep breath and held it in for a second, willing her body to calm itself. When she thought she was safe, she pulled her arm back and opened her eyes. ‘Yes, I’m fine. Sorry. I don’t know what came over me. Memories, or something silly.’
She stood up, not wanting to be under the dangerous spell of gingerbread and history. This rush of confusion was exactly why her heart had no space to share a bench.
She put a hand to her head to still the twanging deely boppers. Until then, she’d completely forgotten her need for theirstay cheeryalarm whilst sitting with Lukas.
‘Did you bake them?’ she asked, putting her errant hand into her pocket to feel the warm comfort of Angel Gabriel, her eyes seeking out Green Tree Lane below. The lebkuchen looked just like Nell’s, if Nell had suddenly got excessively meticulous and started measuring her icing with a ruler. ‘Did Nell teach you?’
‘No, I …’ His voice trailed off, as though sensing now wasn’t the time for his sidestepping games. ‘Yes.’
She wondered if he knew all of Nell’s old gingerbread recipes from around the world. Even if he didn’t, wasn’t he a fancy, star-seeking chef? He could research the best recipes or make up even better ones. He could teach her. But he hated Christmas and he’d decided to leave her struggling. Another reason they could never truly make peace.
