Page 40 of The Midnight Bakery
‘But you did it.’
‘It damn near killed me.’
Tam smiled and sat back in his chair. ‘But you did it.’
Jack closed his eyes, a smirk playing around his lips. He knew when he’d been outmanoeuvred. ‘Yes, I did it,’ he said softly.
‘Yes, and then you got stuck, got soaked to the skin, and had to wait for us to come home and rescue you,’ said Beth. ‘You said it yourself.’
‘But that’s exactly my point,’ said Tam. ‘None of that would have happened if Jack had spoken about his plans. If he was working with someone.’
‘So, what exactly are you suggesting?’ Beth frowned at him, hoping he had thought some of this through before opening his mouth. She risked a look at Jack, seeing, as she knew she would, the first glimpse of excitement in his eyes. It was a light shehadn’t seen in a long while, and she remembered the promise she’d made only moments ago. Perhaps nowwasthe time to make good on it. Because if they were going to do this, they really needed to think about it properly.
Tam nodded. ‘Correct me if I’m wrong, Jack, but presumably when you bought this place all those years ago, you had plans for what you were going to do with it. It was your dream, it was all you ever wanted, so I’m pretty sure those plans were big ones. And I’m equally sure those plans are still in your head.’
‘I mangled my legs, not my brain,’ said Jack. ‘The plans are still intact.’
‘Good. Then I suggest we start talking about them.’
22
Frankie
Frankie didn’t read the note at first. She stooped to pluck the envelope from the floor as she opened up the bakery, juggling her keys, lunch box and phone before walking through to the back where she dumped them on the table. She took off her coat and hung it up, along with her bag, and then wandered through to the storeroom to collect a clean apron.
She put her lunch box in the fridge and picked up her phone, immediately opening her Spotify app to search for that night’s playlist, and it wasn’t until she had set her music playing and boiled the kettle that she returned to see what had been posted through the door.
It had been a week since her conversation with Vivienne and she’d heard nothing more from her since. She assumed it would be a while before anything happened with the sale, but perhaps she’d been fooling herself, trying to allay her panic instead of dealing with the situation. She’d been guilty of that in the past. What she really wanted was to do nothing – to have a new owner take over the business with Frankie in situ, leaving life tocarry on as before – but experience should have taught her that ignoring a situation didn’t make it go away. So, should she jump ship and look for a job somewhere else? Or should she wait, in the hope of not missing out on the opportunity to stay? They were impossible questions to answer.
It was with these thoughts in her head that she opened the envelope, expecting to see one thing but, instead, seeing another. And what she saw made her stomach lurch in shock.
Hello Frances.
She stared at the note, at the first two words written there, at the handwriting she knew so well, and the name she no longer used. Her hands began to shake in fear. Robert had found her.
There were more words beneath, a whole jumble of them, but she couldn’t seem to get the letters to arrange themselves into something she could make sense of, and her eyes remained unfocused on the page. With a cry, she threw the note back onto the table as if it burned.
She whirled about, staring through the window at the dark outside, knowing that she, in the light of the room, stood out with a clarity denied to anyone standing just metres away, hiding in the shadows. There was no one there, and yet…Her gaze returned to the table. Therecouldbe.
The storeroom was the only real place where she could hide and she rushed inside, standing behind the door with her chest heaving. The air around her felt thick, like treacle, and she could scarcely draw it in. Her head was spinning. She had work to do, but even though the bakery doors were locked, how could she possibly spend the night there knowing that she could be seen? Knowing that he might be out there, watching, waiting until the morning came and it was time for her to leave? He could have her in his sights right now.
Her eyes felt curiously hot and dry, even though they spilled tears down her cheeks. She dashed them away, anger beginning to burn through her. She had come so far, done things she never thought she’d have to and, against the odds, had achieved so much. What did she have to do to be free of him?
From across the room, her music still played, her phone lying on the table where she’d left it. But who would she call? Not her boss. It was eleven o’clock at night and Vivienne was still recuperating. And Beth? Her first real friend? Frankie remembered how happy she’d been, keying Beth’s number into her phone contacts, but Beth would be at work by now and unable to help.
Frankie switched her attention towards the front door of the bakery. She could leave via the back door and run towards the car park, but that would mean the darkness of the alley and the narrow road beyond. Even if she reached Tam, she wasn’t sure how he could help her. She needed to be invisible. She needed to be inside, and that meant thefrontdoor was her only option. Her flat was the only place where she’d be safe. But as soon as the thought entered her head, she realised that wasn’t the answer either. Her flat might be safe, but if she went up there she’d be trapped, holed up until…until she came down to find him waiting for her. And besides, there was just a chance he might not know where she lived yet. Thinking hard, she realised there was only one choice open to her. She had an advantage over Robert because she knew this town and he didn’t. She could hide somewhere, she could…
Gritting her teeth, Frankie peered around the door of the storeroom, snatching a quick glance through the window before ducking her head back inside. Her keys were hanging up beside her coat and bag, she could be out of the door in seconds – keys then phone – one, two – and then, gone. She took a deep breath and started running.
Her fingers fumbled, the lock was stiff – how had she not remembered that? Then she was through, but in her haste to relock the door she dropped the keys, the noise like a gunshot in the silent night. She swore, crying out in desperation, as she swiped the keys from the floor, hairs standing to attention on the back of her neck. Something was moving, coming closer…
There! She was done, the door was locked. She turned, pushing away with her feet, propelling herself down the street, but the pavement had gone from under her, slick from icy rain.
She crashed to the ground, pain shooting through her wrist, blooming within one knee, and she scrabbled frantically to right herself. None of it mattered. They were small things. Sacrifices in the face of something much bigger. She snatched up her phone, seeing the crack across the screen. It didn’t matter.Get up, Frankie. Run…
Her gaze fell on the street ahead – it was clear. But then a sound came from behind and her world stood still. How could she have been so stupid? She’d never make it anywhere. If Robert was behind her, he would catch her easily, her short legs no match for his long stride. She focused on something. A possibility. Yes, take it…move!
Moments later, her fist pounded against a green door, her fingers stabbing at the doorbell, again and again, as she prayed that William would be home. If he had already left for work, if he wasn’t there…
