Page 66 of The Gingerbread Cafe
As Eve drove them back to Gretel’s maisonette in Mistleton, Gretel passed around the bag of lebkuchen she’d successfully made that morning, using a jar of her homemadelebkuchengewürzspice mix that may have slipped into a box as she’d been fleeing the café. Well, they’d need sustenance if they were going to work out how to fix Gretel’s mess.
‘Perhaps you need to start with the Christmas stuff,’ said Phoebe, gently. ‘You can’t continue to live in that clutter. It’s blocking the flow of good energy.’
‘She needs a massive clear-out,’ Amber agreed. ‘Starting with that poor plastic Christmas tree. If any of that festive shit is sparking joy in March, I’ll eat Marie Kondo’s sunhat.’
Why hadn’t she seen that Amber was related to Francesca bloody Whimple? But she meant well. Gretel smiled and gave her an accidentally-on-purpose elbow.
Then Gretel considered Amber’s suggestion. Her mind swam back to a few days ago, when she’d been sitting on her crappy rented sofa, surrounded with festive junk and stuffing her face with apple strudel. She had felt lonely. Because if she was honest, Christmas wasn’t aboutstuff. It was aboutlove. And hope, and friendship and spreading cheer. Her heart skipped back to the Christmases she remembered with her mum and Rosa, and all the joyous festive spirit that had twinkled around the log cabins of theChristkindlmärkteand set her soul alight. She couldn’t recreate that feeling in March by wearing a penguin jumper and putting deely boppers on her head. Some things only made sense at the right time of year. If she tried to drag out Christmas all year long, it simply lost its magic.
‘PutChristmas clear-outon the list,’ said Gretel.
Eve gave Gretel a supportive glance in the rear-view mirror. ‘I agree that’s a great place to start. But perhaps the situation goes beyond a bit of feng shui. Gretel, darling, we need to make sure you feel strong enough not to hide from the world and escape back to Christmas when life gets tricky.’
Gretel nodded. She also needed to help herself believe that letting go of Christmas didn’t mean forgetting her memories of her family and Nell. They would always be there, with or without a sad plastic Christmas tree.
‘Have you thought about counselling?’ Phoebe asked, reaching back to give Gretel’s arm a squeeze. ‘It can help to talk about things.’
The hilly scenery that Gretel loved passed by through her window. The huddles of trees, the quaint little church. Even Bea’s dad’s lavender farm. Yet with its light blanket of snow, everything had a special newness.
‘I’ve tried counselling in the past, but … you’re right,’ Gretel conceded. ‘I’ve never stuck with it. I owe it to myself to try again.’
‘Looking after your mental health is totally a thing,’ said Amber. ‘Or we can set you up with Phoebe and her chakra healing.’ She winked. ‘And Gretel doesn’t look like she’s got room for many more crystals.’
‘OK,enquire about counselling. Put it on the list,’ said Gretel.
‘So now we just have to get you back into the café.’ Amber shrugged as though that bit was easy.
‘And patch things up with a certain Mr Knight. The poor man must be heartbroken that you’ve disappeared and not told him where you’ve gone,’ Eve added. ‘I’ve seen him searching the street like you might appear from behind a string of bunting.’
Had Lukas really been looking heartbroken? She hardly dared to believe it. ‘The way I behaved when we had that first row.’ Gretel shrank a little in her seat. ‘I might have totally cocked things up.’ If she was honest with herself, there’d been a big, lonely hole in her heart since the moment he’d walked away. She couldn’t live without fixing this, or at least trying.
‘If he’s got any sense, he’ll love the pants offallof you. Not just the sparkly, having an awesome day bits,’ said Amber.
Gretel nodded again. She had a feeling she loved all of him too.
She nibbled the chocolate off a lebkuchen biscuit whilst the mental image formed. ‘Right, I’ve got it. Add these things to the list. I’m not going down without a particularly quirky fight.’
Just over a week later, the battle plans were well underway.
Once Gretel had created headspace by gifting some Christmas excess to charity and booking her first counselling session, she was ready to tackle the café, and the mess she’d made with Lukas. With a buzz in the air as her friends rallied around to support her, Green Tree Lane felt alive with possibilities. It was café front makeover time.
Her friends had suggested a Monday when the shops were shut, so they could be on hand to help with the makeover part. But first Gretel would also have somemaking upto do. And that was a leap she had to take without them.
She’d been busy with preparations all week, including jumping through Mr Peabody’s hoops. Her equipment was in place, apart from her showpiece. And after a heart-stopping pause, Lukas had replied to her message to say he’d meet her outside the café at the suggested time.
‘We’ll lay this out under the café window.’ Jane and Jayne carried a paint-splattered dust sheet between them, like a hammock. She thought back to the ghostly sheets which had been thrown over the café’s tables when she and Lukas had first met Mr Birdwhistle there. She hoped with a pang that she wouldn’t see those returning.
‘Thank you,’ she told them.
‘Here, I brought you this.’ Bea was at her side, pulling a cotton sachet from her pocket. ‘It’s dried lavender. It’s symbolic of serenity, grace and calm, although I just sniff it when I need a moment.’ She giggled. ‘Keep it on you just in case.’
It really did smell calming. Gretel swallowed a lump in her throat and nodded her thanks to Bea, remembering that Nell had loved lavender too.
‘Kingsley and I will be back later with our new passion fruit and ginger rum.’ Zekia bustled past and rubbed Gretel’s arm. ‘I’m sure you’ll have a few things to celebrate.’
Gretel hoped she was right. As she busied herself rearranging pots of paint around her borrowed stepladder, Amber, Eve and Phoebe hurried over too.
Eve was holding a bunch of pale blue flowers and some hair grips, and with Gretel’s nod, Amber began weaving them through her hair. They matched her new woolly jumper perfectly. ‘It’s a bit early for cornflowers, but it’s handy when youknow a florist.’ She winked. ‘Cornflowers are delicate, but oh so courageous. Their little flowers stand up to the elements when so many others would flail.’
