Page 58 of The Gingerbread Cafe
To top it off, Lukas hadn’t even bothered to get in touch. She felt utterly miserable. So much for doing things differently and trying to be brave. She’d dared to step out of her snow globe, but she hadn’t been strong enough for the storm. Life could be cruel. And now much like her precious glass angels, every part of her felt smashed.
She landed at the bottom of the steps with a thud and switched the café light on.
‘And where’s Amber? Did you scare her off?’ She held her ferret at arm’s length. He wriggled and shook his head. ‘No, of course you didn’t. I bet I can guess who’s responsible for that.’
She hadn’t seen or heard from Amber since the fair when Swingy Bob had chased after her. Who knew what had happened or whether the rumours about her still being at school weretrue? Amber had left Angel Gabriel with Jane and Jayne, and she hadn’t been around at the end of the day when they’d tidied the street.
‘Maybe friendship isn’t all it’s cracked up to be either, huh?’
Angel Gabriel squeaked.
Well, one thing was clearly true: happy bubbles invariably burst. Gretel sighed and put Angel Gabriel down on the wooden café floor. He scarpered towards the front door’s low letter box, where a newspaper was hanging sadly onto the bristly doormat.
The newspaper that had been rammed through appeared to be theCotswold Crier, although it now read theCot Crier, thanks to being shredded on delivery. She hadn’t ordered a copy, although perhaps someone wanted her to see the write-up about the fair.
Angel Gabriel sank his teeth into the paper and tugged at it, tearing off theCotpart and running away with it gleefully. She exhaled. She couldn’t face looking at the write-up yet.
She made her way behind the counter and opened the tall fridge, pulling out milk, and finding chocolate and spices in the cupboard. She threw things into a pan, put the heat on and began to stir, the whirlpool of liquid trying to swallow her thoughts.
As she leaned across to put the milk back and slam the fridge shut, the draught made the papers stuck to the fridge door with magnets flutter. Something fell to the floor. She reached down to grab it. If she was quick, she’d only have to leave the stove and stop stirring for a second.
It was a photograph – an old one. Had it been hidden? She squinted to get a look at the blurry image, taking a few moments to register. It was her as a teenager, with her mum and little Rosa. Here in the café, next to one of Nell’s real-life Christmas trees. Smiling, like nothing mattered. Happy, like they always had been.
Why had it taken several blinks to work that out? Were her memories fading? Their faces used to be etched into her mind so vividly. With her daily, in everything she did. Talking to her when she was lonely, guiding her when she felt lost. But where had they been these past few weeks? Since she’d packed things away and let herself start moving on, they’d barely been here. Had they moved on too? Were they cross with her for getting rid of Christmas, their special time of year?
A memory of smashing glass rang through her ears. Two falling angels breaking on the cobbles. She hadn’t been able to save them and now they were gone. To be replaced by what? No Lukas. No Amber. She hadn’t seen the others since the fair. She had a café to open and she couldn’t even be bothered with that.
Gretel gulped as a sob rose inside her from the depths of who knew where. Her loss was as painful then as it had always been. At least that bit hadn’t faded. She pulled a tissue from her dressing gown pocket and let the tears flow. It was normal to cry. Maybe she was overreacting. She’d been getting stronger, hadn’t she? And that had to be a good thing, even if some days she would still feel like crap.
As she took some deep breaths and blew her nose loudly, she heard an angry hissing from the stove. Her hot chocolate. She’d forgotten to stir it, which was rule number one of keeping things together. The smell of burning chocolate scorched the air. Gretel rushed over, flicked off the gas and took another deep breath. A burnt drink was the least of her worries.
‘Woah!’ Gretel jumped as Angel Gabriel reappeared at her mince pie-slippered feet, the wordCotstill clenched between his teeth. ‘Oh God, let’s just read this damned newspaper.’
She whizzed through the paper’s inky pages and landed on the double-page spread that called itselfMistleton Fair Scandal – Gingerbread Café Plagued by Vermin.
Her jaw dropped as her eyes homed in on the photos. Where the hell had those come from? That wasn’t even possible! Was it? They were pictures of Angel Gabriel throwing shapes all over the gingerbread village and running around on the café’s kitchen worktops, although she could have sworn he looked more like a rat. She shook out the creases in the paper as though the simple action might straighten things out. But all it did was waft a toxic inky smell up at her.
Amber had been looking after Angel Gabriel all day on Saturday. Hadn’t she? Gretel had trusted her not to let her precious little ferret man out of her sight. Yet there was the proof. Lukas would blow a fuse, if he had any left to blow.
Rat-a-tat-taaaaaat.The firm knocking at the café door made Gretel jump. It was too early for hopeful customers. Who was out there? She shot a look at her tired dressing gown with the festive wreath patterns, wincing as she thought of her tear-stained cheeks and her eyes that were probably red and puffy. Whoever it was would have to get lost.
‘Gretel. Are you in there? I can see the lights are on.’
Gretel felt her body stiffen. It was Lukas, and he did not sound impressed.
Chapter 47
‘Gretel!’ Lukas’s stern voice outside the café door was not going away.
Gretel bent down to scoop up Angel Gabriel and huddled him close.
‘Look, I’ve got my key,’ said Lukas’s disembodied voice. ‘Fair warning – I’m coming in.’
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.Gretel made a bid for the stairs as she heard a rattling of keys, but she knew it was futile. He didn’t live far out of the village and they shared a bloody café. It was barely a day or so since they’d shared the same bed. He was going to catch up with her at some point.
Gretel stopped at the bottom of the stairs and turned around, her forehead sweaty, the soggy hand that was strangling theCotswold Criernow muddied with ink. Lukas strode through the door and let it bang shut behind him, the bell giving a loud jangle in case she’d missed his cacophonous arrival.
He put his hands on his hips in thatI’m the boss around herestance that she remembered and hated from the early days of their café conundrums. And was that a rolled-up copy of theCotswold Crierin his vice-like grip? Urgh. Well, she had plenty to be cross about too, even if she didnotwant to talk about it.
