Page 53 of The Gingerbread Cafe
Lukas arrived behind her, his arm slipping around her waist. She was wearing the bright yellow frilly apron that Zekia had made for her, on top of a heart-patterned jumper dress she’d knitted especially.
‘You’re a natural with people, even if it does still feel new. And you did want the fair to make a difference. It’s even been getting press coverage.’ He nodded to yet another reporter with a fancy-looking camera slung around her neck. ‘Prepare to go viral.’
‘Wow, really?’ She tried not to sound terrified.
Because everything would bejust fine. The street was looking incredible. She’d been busy with the whole gang since the crack of dawn, putting up gazebos, setting up Phoebe’s tumbled-stone tombola and making sure everything was ready for the various contests and activities.
‘The only thing we ought to be afraid of are those alien-shaped vegetables in Gordon’s misshapen veg competition. Did you see that parsnip with two legs and a whiskery manhood? That’ll give me nightmares for years.’
Gretel giggled. ‘Vegetables are overrated. I’ll stick to the baking competition if it’s all the same with you. My money’s on Bea’s lavender and honey cake, but only because you didn’t enter.’ She turned around to kiss him, hooking her arms around his neck and disappearing into the quiet moment of magic before it was time to open the café.
‘Come on.’ Lukas gently teased her out of her peaceful haze. ‘People will be banging the door down to try our new gingerbread waffles andlebkuchengewürzhot chocolate.’
Lukas had been showing her how to make her own gingerbread spice mix and it really made her favourite drink pop. Gretel sighed and looked over her shoulder. ‘Lifeisalways better with a bit of spice.’ As the winter sunlight caught the new heart-shaped glass bunting that festooned the café’s bay window, she felt like at least one person up there was agreeing with her.
Lukas had arranged for a couple of his kitchen apprentices from La Carotte Rôtie to serve with him in the café for the day so Gretel was free to wander and soak up the atmosphere of the fair, and help out where she was needed.This is your day, Lukas had insisted.Enjoy every moment.She couldn’t help feeling he was being too kind; it had always been a team effort. But she wasn’t going to argue with the chance to roam free and experience the fun of the fair.
She did a last lap of the café, rearranging the bright new cushions Zekia had helped her to sew at one of their craft classes and lighting the tealights on the tables, before walking out into the street. Some of the shops had opted to have small market stalls to bring more life to the street, and most shop ownershad roped in family or friends to help run everything. Bea’s son Xander came by with a group of children as he took charge of the gingerbread treasure hunt. Amber gave Gretel a wave as she zipped by on art trail duty, Angel Gabriel’s little ferret head popping out of the front pocket of the skull and butterfly patterned apron Zekia had helped her to make. Even Bea’s dad, Farmer Wilbur, of cherry picker fame was on hand in his purple Ribena-berry overalls, helping to judge the wonky vegetables, with his sister Elsie presiding over the cakes.
Jane and Jayne had built some makeshift wooden shelters to go around the tree, which they’d draped with fairy lights, just like Gretel remembered from February Fairs of years gone by. People were already huddling under them with hot soup and refreshments which they’d bought from the various shops or stalls. Gordon and his shop boy had even set up a turnip version of a coconut shy and had thrown down some potato sacks for the youngsters to bounce around doing sack races.
There was no doubt about it – Green Tree Lane was buzzing. There were smiles on faces and the chilly air was filled with laughter. Her mum and Rosa would have loved this. Nell too. It was the perfect mix of the old village traditions with a good sprinkling of new ones.
Gretel recognised all sorts of accents, from locals to further afield, and plenty of excited tourists. Better still, people were spending money. As Gretel walked around taking it all in she noticed that every shop or stall was bustling and the shop owners were in their element. She could hear Gordon with his market stall patter and Kingsley laughing heartily as he talked about the benefits of rum. Phoebe was trying to juggle her crystal shop and her tumbled-stone tombola. She also seemed to be in charge of her customer’s crystal-needy shih-tzu, Cedric, so Amber and Jane were taking it in turns to be her extra set of hands.
‘Fluorite!’ Phoebe said gleefully, as she handed a clear green and purple stone to a prize-winning little boy.
‘Keeps your teeth clean,’ said Amber, with a cheeky grin.
Phoebe tinged her small bronze energy-clearing cymbals around Amber’s head, whilst keeping her zen-like smile. ‘It soaks upaaalllllnegative energy,’ she said in a sing-song voice, shoving a spare one into Amber’s pocket.
Gretel smiled and kept walking.
Seeing Mistleton alive with people filled Gretel’s heart with joy, even if all the people taking photos and the press attention was making her stomach quiver. Amber promised it was great if people were sharing photos on social media. When Jane and Jayne had made the painted A-boards for each of the shops they’d added hashtags for visitors to use, to encourage them to share their pics. As Amber explained, it was free marketing and itcouldn’t go wrong.
As Gretel finished her circuit of the street she landed back outside The Gingerbread Café, keen to feast her eyes on their gingerbread village that was on display on a trestle table outside the café. But her eyes were accosted by an infinitely less welcome sight. She tried not to audibly groan. There was only one person around there who’d turn up to a village fair in a businessy trouser suit and customised trainers. And why was she taking such a keen interest in the dainty gingerbread shops and houses?
‘Gertrude! Well, mwaaaaah.’ Francesca Whimple grabbed Gretel’s shoulder with a grip that might leave imprints, delivering exaggerated air kisses nowhere near her face.
‘It’s Gretel,’ she corrected her, through gritted teeth. Not that Gretel didn’t call her Swingy Bob when she was out of earshot, but still. At least she made an effort to get her name right when she was listening.
‘Gretel. Absolutely! And what a fantabulous job you’ve made of this fair. You’ve even started to give the café a new look.’ She pointed to the edible art hanging in the window. ‘The prospective tenants who are coming to the fair later will just love it.’
If the street wasn’t so busy with happy customers and nosey reporters, maybe Gretel would have had it out with her about what she’d overheard her say on that rainy day in Lower Paddleton. Or maybe she’d never be that brave.
Gretel had a quick look around to check no camera lenses were pointing their way. ‘We haven’t even decided we’re selling yet. And if we are, to whom.’ She crossed her arms. It was still a serious conversation she needed to have with Lukas, but she’d had enough to get her head around with planning for the fair. And she was still hoping the fair would change the café’s fortune for the better.
Swingy Bob raised her impossibly thick eyebrows. ‘Riiiiiiight.’
Why did she say that as though she knew more than Gretel? Just as she was resisting the urge to shove the woman’s annoying head into one of Gordon’s dusty old potato sacks, her thoughts were interrupted by more visitors approaching the table.
‘This gingerbread village is really quite something,’ said an older lady with a big furry hat. The two younger women with her, who could have been her daughters, nodded their less furry heads. ‘Look at that darling florist’s with the tiny flowers.’ She pointed at the gingerbread replica. ‘And here’s that lovely Lavender & Honey with the sweet lady waving outside, and that yummy flavoured rum place. Everything lights up too. How enchanting.’ She straightened herself and smiled at Gretel, who was relieved she’d got all the lights working, including Phoebe’s, the night before. ‘Yes, what a marvellous village this is. I’d quiteforgotten. Well done for brightening the place up and bringing this fair together.’
Gretel felt her cheeks redden. ‘I can’t take all the credit …’
‘Shh now,’ the lady replied. ‘Everyone says wonderful things about you. Your hard work will be all over the newspapers soon enough.’
Gretel tried to smile.
