Page 16 of Jingle Bells in June
CHAPTEREIGHT
For the first few days after bumping into Aidan again,I keep my phone handy at all times, half-expecting him to call me. I’d reallyenjoyed our chat in the café. I liked Aidan a lot and I was keen to take astall at the fete he was planning, to raise funds for the homeless.
But as the days pass and my phone stays stubbornly silent –and February slips into March – I tell myself it’s fine. We had a lovely chatand I’d even thought there might be a bit of a spark between us, but I musthave been wrong...
His idea for the fundraiser stays with me, though, and itoccurs to me that maybe the Little Duck Pond Café could play its part in someway. A raffle or a cake baking competition, maybe, with proceeds going to thecharity? It would be good publicity for Ellie’s business and I felt sure she’dbe interested.
But when I mention it to her this morning, I’m quitesurprised by her brusque reply.
‘A fete? Oh, I haven’t got time for anything like that,’ shesays, leaning on the counter with a tired frown. ‘Fen?’ She straightens up andshouts through to the kitchen, my question already forgotten. ‘I thought yousaid the date and walnut scones were out of the oven?’
I melt away at that point, not wanting to be a nuisance whenEllie’s so obviously frazzled, and I get on with clearing tables and topping upthe cutlery in the trugs.
‘Ta-da! What do you think, Kenzie?’ asks Katja, emergingfrom the back with one of her fabulous celebration cake creations. She placesit gently on the counter and stands back to look at it.
My mouth drops open. ‘Oh, but it’sgorgeous!’ It’s abirthday cake for a sixteen-year-old girl.
‘Thank you.’ Katja smiles modestly. ‘It’s very...pink. It might be my best so far, though. I’m quite proud of it.’
‘So you should be. How on earth have you made the eye shadowpalette look so realistic. And the lipstick. Such gorgeous colours. And that‘star’ dressing room mirror is brilliant.’
Someone behind me laughs. It’s a harsh sound, almost like asneer, and Katja and I both turn in the direction of the couple sitting at atable in the window. The girl who made the noise is small and very pretty withlong dark hair. She’s leaning forward, talking fast, glaring at themild-looking guy sitting opposite. The object of her anger, in jeans and achecked shirt, is looking back at her wordlessly, blinking behind small, roundglasses.
A cold hand squeezes my insides. I shouldn’t be watchingthem, but I can’t help it. As soon as they came in, I was picking up on thehorrible tension between them.
‘Ouch,’ whispers Madison, joining us. ‘I wonder what he’sdone to upset her?’
I swallow. ‘Maybe he hasn’t done anything at all.’
Madison frowns at me. ‘But she’s obviously furious withhim.’
I smile and shrug, brushing off my remark, and Madison says,‘Wow, that cake is amazing, Katja. You’d better box it up before I decide tocut myself a slice.’
‘At your peril, greedy guts,’ grins Katja.
We laugh as she whisks the cake away into the kitchen.Madison returns to her post behind the counter and I continue clearing andwiping tables, making a determined effort to ignore what’s going on at thetable in the window.
But I’m finding it hard.
The girl is growing more aggressive, flinging out insults,while the poor guy just sits there, looking awkward.
‘Why can’t you just stand up to your mother and tell her toeff off, instead of pussy-footing around her like a grovelling idiot. Honestly,Jonathan, you’repathetic!’
Her tone makes me cringe. What has he done to deserve such abitter character assassination? Probably nothing.
‘Mum tries her best,’ he says quietly. ‘But you know it’snot easy for her now that Dad’s gone. It used to be his job to sort out all thebills and stuff, so obviously I’m the one she turns to when she’s not sure whatto do.’
‘Yes, but she’s on the phoneevery effing day, isn’tshe?’
Jonathan smiles sadly. ‘Yes, but Shona, you’ve got tounderstand that –’
‘Well,isn’t she?’ She leans closer, glaring at him,her pretty face turning ugly, and a little shiver of revulsion creeps throughme. How he’s managing to stay so calm in the face of her bullying, I can’timagine.
‘You’re asap, Jonathan,’ she hisses. ‘That’s whatyou are. You’re just a pathetic excuse for a man.’
He looks down, and my heart goes out to him.
‘This isn’t working, Shona,’ he says, after a while.
