Page 18 of The Gingerbread Cafe
‘I thought you were too busy and important for silly gingerbread.’
He sighed. ‘You really don’t have the best impression of me, do you? Actually, don’t answer that.’ He shifted on the bench. ‘No, I don’t bake gingerbread people any more. You won’t catch me making Nell’s trademark ladies and gents or faffing about icing top hats and frilly skirts. Don’t ask. It’s just … not my scene now. But that doesn’t mean I can’t bake a bit of lebkuchen as a one-off festive offering to Nell, even if Christmas does suck. At least I didn’t have to break my back dragging in a dead tree for her this year, and nearly bowling you over in the process.’
They were silent for a moment, Gretel conscious she hadn’t been able to face the emotion of Nell’s annual real tree ritual this year. Maybe in January, and she didn’t care if most peoplewould find that odd. Thinking ofodd, there was something else she needed to raise with Lukas. As she looked down onto Green Tree Lane and the tree she hoped would always be twinkling, she felt a small burst of courage.
‘Do you know … Francesca Whimple?’
‘Yes.’ Did his voice seem cautious?
‘She’s been sniffing around the café. I think she’s keen to buy it.’
Lukas stood up now too, spreading out his chest again, like he needed to take up more space. ‘Well, that’s …great.’
‘There’s no need to sound quite so upbeat.’ She crossed her arms. ‘Apparently Miss Whimple and her family buy places up and rent them out to soulless chains. I heard the little independents in Lower Paddleton couldn’t afford the Whimples’ rent prices so the cute shops and cafés got strangled out. If we’re not careful, our village will go the same way. Green Tree Lane could be destroyed.’
‘That’s not true. It’s just … progress. Change is good – we shouldn’t stagnate. Anyway, Franny’s just a pawn in the family business. Her dad and brothers call the shots.’
Gretel took a sharp intake of breath, the words piercing her like spikes. Progress? Change? And he needn’t get her started on that murky, stagnant fountain in Lower Paddleton. ‘Once the Whimple woman gets her silly golden trainer in one door, the landscape of Green Tree Lane would change for ever, with Nell’s café being the first domino to fall and put the others at risk of tumbling. Do you think that’s what Nell would have wanted?’
She stepped around to face him, hands on hips; but with the rise of the hill she was now on a lower footing, forced to look up at his chin.
‘Change the landscape? That’s a bit extreme. It’s not like Franny’s going to tear up your precious Christmas tree. The hefty thing’s at least three times the size of her.’
Franny? ‘Well, it sounds like you’regreatfriends already.’ She could just imagine the woman chugging through the village in a bulldozer. Maybe Lukas would be hitching a ride.
He raked a hand through his hair again, but this time Gretel had no interest in watching its rise and fall. ‘We know each other quite well, yes. And Franny’s family owns the building I’m keen to buy for my restaurant in Lower Paddleton. It’s part of an old water mill on the river. It’s coming up for sale soon and the wheel room is something else. Turning that place into my first restaurant has been a dream for years.’
‘Don’t tell me. If you sell her the first domino in Green Tree Lane, she’ll be more likely to let you have your stinky old mill.’
‘It’s only when you let things stagnate that they get stinky, Gretel. Life moves, seasons change.’ His voice was lower now, as though explaining something to a small child. ‘Staying stuck in Christmas is not sustainable and it’s not doing … the café any good.’
The café.But she could tell from his pause and the cloudy look in those grey eyes that he’d meant her too. He was comparing her life to a sludgy old pond and her deely boppers were extremely cross about it.
‘So if Miss Whimple got her hands on the café, you’d be happy for her to turn it into something completely different from Nell’s legacy?’
‘Look, she told me she’d respect the general theme of the café and she’s mostly a woman of her word. I expect her vision for the future tenants still involves gingerbread and hot chocolate. But saying goodbye to the never-ending Christmas thing? That’s just common sense.’
Gretel shook her head and tried not to scowl as the corners of Lukas’s mouth twitched upwards. ‘I’m glad you find this whole situation funny.’
‘I’m sorry. It’s just that those flashing snowflake things on your head are quite distracting. Honestly, though, change can be a good thing. Maybe a bit of a shake-up is just what Green Tree Lane needs. Business hasn’t been buzzing there for a while. Franny has some great tenants …’
‘The village doesn’t need a bunch of greedy chain stores.’
‘Like you do so much socialising with the villagers.’
Ouch! She pulled the stupid deely boppers off her head.
‘Life is transient, Gretel. Even the weather.’ Lukas put a hand out as the lightest flakes of snow began falling around them. ‘Nothing is ours for the keeping, except memories. Sometimes we’ve just got to roll with it.’
She didn’t notice how tightly she’d been gripping the headband until the sharp teeth were biting dents into her palm.
‘Look, I’m not trying to railroad you, I promise. But I do think selling the place to the Whimples would be for the best. I guarantee that once Christmas is done and the café’s a ghost town you’ll be itching to get the place off your hands too.’ He gave a quick look towards the sky as the snow picked up its pace. ‘The money from the sale would give you a completely fresh start.’ He rustled her bag of broken biscuits and placed them under her crochet bag to keep dry. ‘From the usual state of the kitchen, I’d say you’re probably making more mess than money.’ His voice sounded fake jokey but she wasn’t in the mood. ‘And on the plus side, you didn’t actually move yourself into the flat above. So there you go. It will be painless enough for us to cut the ties as soon as probate is sorted in a few short months.’
As much as it bugged her, she couldn’t help wondering if he was the voice of reason. He was the sensible grown-up, after all. But when she remembered the progress she’d been making in the café – that sense of purpose and those tiny moments of success with Amber by her side, she was sure she wasn’t out of fight just yet. Maybe she didn’t have all the answers, but she’ddecided one thing. She was going to try harder to learn to bake. And to apologise for his hurtful mouth, Lukas was going to help her.
Chapter 17
It had been easier than she’d expected to talk Lukas into coming back to the café with her to give her some pointers on her disastrous baking. It being Christmas Day, his most hated occasion of the year, she’d been expecting more of a fight. Maybe he’d taken pity on her, or perhaps he was secretly craving a distraction as much as she was.
