Page 37 of The Gingerbread Cafe
Amber pulled a face. ‘Is a bit of bunting and some pretty chalkboards enough, though? Or do we need something bigger to grab their attention?’
‘Like what?’ Gretel scratched her head, feeling a little deflated. Perhaps it wasn’t much of a story after all. Maybe the world wouldn’t even care about a few glass lambs and the promise of a Brussels sprout.
Before Gretel could ponder it further her thoughts were invaded by the deep growl of an engine followed by an aggressive screech of tyres. There were outraged gasps as the group looked up from their various positions around the tree to see a sleek black and gold sports car invading their peaceful space. The window rolled down and a woman’s head thrust out, its black hair swinging.
Gretel gawped. There was only one bob that swung quite so annoyingly, and probably only one person with the cheek to speed around a pedestrianised street making pedestrians feel like they were in the way. Francesca Swingy Bob Whimple.
Chapter 31
‘What’s the party?’ asked Francesca Swingy Bob Whimple, peering down from her sports car window at the shop owners who were gathered on cosy blankets around the Christmas tree. ‘Are you, like, knitting or something? Why aren’t your shops open anyway?’
Zekia began hauling herself to her feet, clearly not impressed with being looked down upon by the woman she’d once referred to asthat scrawny pipsqueak. Some of the others followed, and before Gretel knew it Eve was dragging her up too. But where was Amber?
‘You shouldn’t be driving down Green Tree Lane. It’s pedestrians only.’ Zekia pointed to a road sign, which had admittedly seen better days.
‘And we don’t answer to you round here,’ said Gordon.
‘Not yet,’ said Swingy Bob, with a sickly sweet smile which she seemed to think passed as genuine. ‘And it scarcely matters about the no-cars thing.’ She waved a hand. ‘It’s not like you ever get much of a crowd to run over. Maybe you could do with some more popular shops.’
Gretel could hear Phoebe taking deep breaths at the side of her, and then felt her tapping her on the pocket. It was her cue to test out this yellow and brown communication crystal Phoebe had plunged into it. Change might feel uncomfortable, but it wasa hell of a lot less terrifying than letting Francesca Whimple get her way.
‘Our shops are fantastic and we will have decent crowds,’ Gretel heard herself saying, even though her voice was shaky. ‘We’re working on attracting new visitors to our street right now.’
Swingy Bob raised her eyebrows. Even her hairdo kept still for a moment, in anticipation of some gossip. ‘How so? With knitted bumble bees and vegetable bunting?’
‘They’re honey bees,’ Bea mumbled. ‘Bumble bees barely make any honey, which you’d know if you were genuinely interested in my shop, like you said you were.’
Eve rubbed Bea’s shoulder and scowled at Miss Whimple, who still didn’t seem to realise she was actually being rude.
‘This is just the warm-up,’ said Gretel, still not sure where these words were coming from. Warm-up for what, for goodness’ sake? They hadn’t planned anything, beyond a bit of decorating and a few pics for Instagram. That much had felt huge enough, but now that their cute bunting was being sneered at …
‘Coolio. What are you warming up for?’ The bob was back in full swing, as though shaking its head in disbelief even though its owner was fake-smiling.
What was there to do in winter, once Christmas was packed away? Gretel raided her memory banks for an answer. She could picture something. What was that? ‘The Mistleton February Fair!’ she blurted out. She remembered it from her childhood, but the village hadn’t had one for years. ‘We’re bringing it back and it’s set to be the best winter event in the Cotswolds.’ Woah – was it? What was she saying? She should give Phoebe’s funny stone back. Things were far safer when she’d just clung on to glass fairies for moral support.
Swingy Bob was quiet for a moment, presumably chewing over her thoughts. ‘Great, save me a ticket. Maybe I’ll drop by with some potential tenants and reassure them this place is showing signs of improvement. It’s super handy that you’re doing the legwork for me.’
‘You don’t own anything around here to rent out,’ Gordon growled, one arm steadying his angrily wobbling belly.
‘Like I said, not yet.’ Swingy Bob swung her head towards Gretel. ‘But that charming café should be up for grabs soon, and Lukas and I go way back.’ She gave Gretel a wink. ‘Lukas is always game.’
Was he? And why did the insinuation make Gretel’s stomach churn?
‘Anyway, I’ve gotta shoot.’ Miss Whimple waved a hand. ‘See you later, peeps. And keep up the hard work. I appreciate you.’
With that, the car window rolled back up and Miss Whimple reversed at speed and swung back in the direction she’d come from. The group tried their best not to cough in the dust her tyres spat up as she zipped away.
Gretel rushed around the tree to look for Amber. She was there, inspecting her black-painted nails as though she hadn’t darted off at the first rumble of Miss Whimple’s engine. There were still a few mysteries about Gretel’s new friend, and it wasn’t like headstrong Amber not to sound off about the rule-breaking sports car.
But before Gretel could quiz her, she heard footsteps coming towards them across the cobbles, in the opposite direction to Miss Whimple’s dust cloud. Gretel’s heart did a little shimmy as she saw Lukas striding towards them in worn jeans and a slim fit blue jumper, his backpack slung over one shoulder.
‘It’s Lukas,’ she whispered to Amber, for the sheer joy of saying his name.
Amber flinched and did a quick check over her shoulder. ‘Shit, you’re right. Erm. I’ll leave you kids to it.’ Amber moved quickly around the tree, grabbing her black canvas satchel. ‘Keep hold of the pad with the list, yeah? I’ll see you in the café tomorrow.’
Gretel darted after Amber as she marched away, towards the main road and her bus stop back to Lower Paddleton. ‘What’s going on with you today?’ Gretel asked. ‘First Swingy Bob Whimple and now Lukas. He’s honestly not that bad! And anyway, I know you wanted to be an unofficial employee at first, but isn’t it time we told Lukas about you? I’m hoping the café will get busier again with our efforts to rejuvenate the street, then I can take you on for more hours and actually pay you …’
‘No! Don’t mention me to him or that Whimple woman. Not at all, OK? Just, please.’ Amber shot her an imploring look, then checked her watch. ‘I shouldn’t be here anyway. But shh, yeah?’ She dipped her head and scurried away.
