Page 63 of The Gingerbread Cafe
Gretel closed her eyes. Her mind had been so busy trying to unpick lies lately, she barely knew what to believe. As Kevin got his crayons out to make his battle plan, her thoughts became clear.
Finally, she pulled Amber into a hug. ‘Thanks for being honest with me. I believe you. But speaking to Francesca Whimple is something I need to do for myself.’
Chapter 51
Gretel had never been on a road trip with friends before. Packed into Eve’s new flower-patterned delivery car with Eve, Phoebe and Amber, it felt momentous. They were giving her a lift to the Whimple & Sons office so she could confront Francesca about the fake vermin story she’d leaked to theCotswold Crier.
‘Thank you for this,’ Gretel said quietly. Despite being angry about what the swingy bobbed interferer had done, Gretel was still a bag of nerves about confronting her.
‘We couldn’t let you sit on that freezing Lower Paddleton bus by yourself,’ said Phoebe.
The car felt toasty with them all squashed in. She’d missed their warmth.
‘The way this one packs up her life and disappears when we’re not looking, I’ll be putting a tracking device on her elf-dress-wearing arse,’ said Amber.
‘I’m not wearing anything Christmassy today,’ said Gretel.
Amber whooped.
If she was going to look brave in front of the Whimple, festive eight-year-old would not be a strong look. Though as the recent snow glinted at them from the tops of the surrounding hills, she’d allowed the comfort of her fluffy coat and snow boots.
‘I think weallneed a reminder that we’re here for each other,’ said Eve gently, looking at Amber in her rear-view mirror.
Amber ruffled Angel Gabriel’s snowy fur. He was dozing on her lap, in a makeshift car harness. She’d been overjoyed to be allowed back in charge of him. ‘You know, I’m pretty much the coolest kid in school now. Since I helped organise the Mistleton Fair and the social media, I’m like some kind of influencer. Fickle, huh? I’m going to start charging them to hang around with me.’
‘I’m proud of you for getting back to school, courageous Amber.’ Gretel pulled her into a side hug. They’d picked a Saturday so Amber could join the moral support road trip, but Gretel was absolutely facing Francesca Whimple alone. ‘Sometimes we’ve got to show those mean girls who’s boss.’
‘You know it,’ said Amber, her voice catching. ‘You gals are my people. You gave me a sense of purpose and showed me I’m worthy of having real friends. We’re the most unlikely bunch, but I kind of love ya.’
Gretel dabbed her eyes with a tissue. ‘Yes, that.’ She sniffed. She still wasn’t great with a speech.
‘And Lukas?’ asked Amber.
The windscreen wipers swished away the odd snowflake that was still falling. But like the roads, her mind was slowly beginning to clear. Despite everything, she’d missed him with every inch of her.
‘We’ll see,’ Gretel concluded. For now, it was the best she could promise.
‘Ooh, will you need a crystal for Operation Whimple?’ Phoebe asked, leaning over from the passenger seat with two hands full.
‘Here’s the bit where she makes you put rocks in your bra,’ Amber giggled.
Gretel shook her head. ‘I’ve got this.’ Although she had no idea if that was true.
Gretel hadn’t booked an appointment with Swingy Bob Whimple. Amber had sneaked a look at her diary and confirmed her sister should be in the office. The woman didn’t deserve time to prepare her story or disappear.
As Gretel stepped through the door of the garish office on Penny Road, she noticed they were too modern for a tinkling overhead bell. How would anyone know she’d arrived? The reception area was empty, other than a few stray Quickie Café cups and the smell of bad coffee.
‘What the fuck did you do that for?’
Gretel jumped. It was a loud male voice, coming from a room behind the reception area. Shouldn’t people at least shut the door if they were going to have a row?
‘Why fucking wouldn’t I?’ came the reply. It sounded like Francesca Whimple, although she seemed quieter and less sure of herself than usual. At least it was clear where she got her swearing from. ‘Someone’s got to stand up for the kid.’
‘By declaring to the whole world that the Whimples get bullied? We run this sodding village. We’ll be a laughing stock.’
‘Someone needed to tell the school about it. I thought I was being helpful,’ said Francesca, her voice still unsure.
‘We deal with family businessourselves.’
