Christmas At The Cupcake Cafe Read online

  ‘So tell me, how’s school, Darny?’ said Marian.

  Darny shrugged. ‘Awful.’

  ‘It is not “awful”,’ said Issy. ‘He gets top scores in maths and physics. And no scores in everything else, not because he’s not bright but because he isn’t interested.’

  ‘I hated school,’ said Marian. ‘Got out as soon as I could.’

  And got pregnant, Issy didn’t say.

  ‘Issy was such a little scholar, worked so hard, went to college, passed all her exams, proper little swot, and what does she do now? Makes cakes. Which is fine, I grant you, but it hardly needed her grandfather to pay for three years of higher education.’

  ‘It’s been very useful, actually,’ said Issy, crossly.

  ‘So you are who, exactly?’ said Marian.

  ‘I’m Austin’s little brother. Austin’s her boyfriend.’ Darny made a face and Marian laughed.

  ‘I didn’t know you had a boyfriend,’ she said.

  ‘Austin,’ said Issy patiently. ‘The tall chap that was at the funeral? Whose house I live in? Whom I talk about on the phone?’

  ‘Oh yes, ooh yes, of course I did,’ said Marian. ‘I must meet him one day.’

  ‘You have met him,’ said Issy. ‘Four times.’

  ‘Oh, of course I have. Good for you! Now, Darny, tell me some of the nonsense they’ve been teaching you in school.’

  And to Issy’s absolute surprise, Darny launched into a long story about their sex-education teacher who had got all wobbly and upset doing something unfortunate with a banana. It was a funny story and Marian listened carefully and asked pertinent questions, and then they both got stuck into a discussion of why they had to use rabbits for sex information and why couldn’t they use those gay penguins, and Issy couldn’t help but be struck by the fact that Marian was obviously enjoying the conversation – they both were – but also that she was talking to Darny as if they were both adults, or both teenagers, she couldn’t quite tell which one. At any rate, in a way that they managed to understand one another. She watched them with some sadness. Darny was so sparky, so full of contrariness and argument. She found it wearing and problematic, but to her mother it was clearly a challenge. Yet she herself had spent so much time as a daughter trying to be good, and behave herself, and gain appreciation for that.

  Well, Gramps had loved her for who she was. She knew that much. And Austin, too. No wonder he’d been so surprised by her outburst last night. She surreptitiously fingered her phone and wondered what he was up to. She glanced towards the restaurant kitchen, full of short-order cooks shouting, bantering, working the lunchtime rush. She wished she could bake something. It always calmed her down when she was agitated. But between the little hotel room and the big restaurant meals, that definitely wasn’t possible. She was just going to have to grin and bear it. And be happy that Darny and her mother seemed to have made a connection. That was good, at least.

  They added a hearty tip to the bill (Issy paid, and her mother let her), reluctant to leave the cosy banquette for the freezing street, but Marian mentioned that she had to go and pick up some knishes from Dean & Deluca, a sentence Issy didn’t understand any of, so they headed out together into the cold.

  ‘How long are you here for?’ said Marian.

  ‘A few days,’ said Issy. ‘Can we come and visit you?’

  Marian frowned. ‘Well, you know, it’s very busy at the commune … Of course,’ she said. ‘Of course. I’ll send you directions.’

  She kissed them both freely.

  ‘Mazel tov!’ she yelled happily, as she marched off in her funny home-made clothes, walking across a stop light as if she’d been born in America.

  ‘Your mum’s cool,’ said Darny, as they took a cab up to the Guggenheim Museum.

  ‘People think that,’ said Issy.

  ‘Do you not see her very much?’

  ‘No,’ sighed Issy. ‘But that’s OK. I never did, really.’

  A silence fell between them. But this time it felt a bit more companionable.

  After an hour of trying to appreciate the art (and Darny running up and down the famous circular passageway), Issy was utterly exhausted. She was on the brink of suggesting they go back to the hotel and have a nap when her phone finally tinged. It was Austin, with one of the funny, short New York addresses made up of numbers. He was suggesting they meet up there, and Issy agreed.

  Austin had sleepwalked through his meeting. He hadn’t listened to a word anyone had said, just launched into an analysis of the business as he saw it. Amazingly, nobody seemed to have noticed that he hadn’t listened. Maybe not listening was the way forward. Maybe it was how everything got done. But he couldn’t help it. He was, he realised, unutterably miserable. Here they were, showering him with riches and offers and a whole new way of life; a way of life he’d never even dreamed of. Success, security for Darny and himself; a future.

  But the person he wanted more than anyone to share it with didn’t seem to want to share it with him.

  Austin hadn’t fallen in love with Issy straight away. He had found her quirky, then he had liked her, then it had gradually dawned on him that he never wanted to be without her. But it was more than that. He trusted her; he listened to what she had to say. They thought alike on so many things. And the fact that Issy clearly wasn’t interested in being here with him … it shook his confidence, it really did. He’d grown to rely on her so fully, even, he realised, to the point of taking her for granted.

  He kicked his way through the dirty snow. Everyone he met thought he was crazy in this weather, but he liked walking in Manhattan; there was so much to look at, and he fitted in with his regular long stride because everyone walked fast, and he liked the pulse of the city in his veins and the hum and buzz of electricity. He did like it. Issy would like it too.

  That made him groan internally. He knew … he thought he knew … that if he begged her, if he made a big point out of it and insisted and strong-armed the situation – which was not his style at all – she would come. She would. Wouldn’t she? But even if she did, Austin knew she wouldn’t be happy. Couldn’t be. She’d worked so hard, and it was her … her purpose, he supposed. Issy, in the Cupcake Café, her hands covered in flour, her cheeks pink from the heat of the oven; with a pat on the head for every child and a friendly word for every cold and weary London passer-by. It defined her. To stick her in some glass box high-rise apartment in Manhattan whilst he worked ridiculous hours every day …

  He would turn them down in a heartbeat.

  That much had been running round and round his head. That much he’d decided. Unfortunately, there was something else. Something that made all his good intentions towards Issy hardly count at all.

  The letter Issy had grabbed from the hall table as she had left for New York. The letter, with its impersonally typed address and frank. It was slightly crumpled and stained from its trip on the plane and being stuffed in and out of bags. Issy had left it on his side of the bed. She didn’t know, of course, how far things had gone.

  Dear Mr Tyler,

  We at Carnforth Road School are afraid that the behaviour of your son/ward has become, despite repeated warnings, too much for our school to take on. We are recommending a permanent exclusion. We do not feel Darny’s particular needs are being met by this school …

  There was more, much more. Mostly of a legal nature. Austin had skipped that.

  There was only one other school in the district, King’s Mount, and it had been terrible and dangerous in Austin’s time and it was still terrible and dangerous now. Parents avoided it like the plague; people moved so their children wouldn’t have to attend it. Fights were regular; it was the dumping ground for children who had nowhere else to go, or a halfway house to borstal, or for those whose parents just didn’t give a toss. It had been on special measures for ever, but they couldn’t shut it as it was absolutely huge, and nobody else wanted the children who went there.

  Darny would never survive there. Austin couldn’t
possibly afford to send him to another school. Not in London. Even if they’d take him, which with his record was probably a bit tricky. He gulped.

  Merv had already handed him a brochure for the middle school his own children went to, assuring him he’d get a place for Darny. It had class sizes of twelve, its own pool, and weekly one-to-one seminars ‘to develop social and creative potential’ and encourage ‘independence and clarity of thought’. Austin had had it half on his mind ever since. Part of Darny’s intransigence was of course just down to his age; it was completely normal and would probably get thrashed out of him at King’s Mount … Austin couldn’t bear it. Darny was small for his age. Small, not very brave, but with a big mouth. He remembered Issy saying in passing that she didn’t like big gangs of schoolchildren in her shop (she let them in, but Pearl did bouncing if they got too rowdy), but felt like making an exception for the poor terrified mites she saw crawling out of King’s Mount, with their pale, scared-looking faces.

  Austin sighed. Would he drop everything, this job and everything else, for Issy? Of course. Yes, New York would be fun and an adventure, but he wouldn’t jeopardise their relationship for that. Not if it was just him.

  It wasn’t just him. It was him and Darny; had been for a long time.

  As soon as Issy saw the outside of the place where they were meeting, she knew, and couldn’t help feeling a bit irritated. This was where Austin had got those other cupcakes. Those enemies … She was curious, she couldn’t help it. The New York City Cupcake Store, read the old-fashioned writing on the window. This was where so many of the great cupcake makers had started in this city … perhaps she’d just had a bad batch. It would be a good thing to try some others out, have a look around and see if she could get any new ideas. She wished she’d thought of this before, actually, rather than following the guidebook and having to try and explain stuff to Darny in the art gallery that she didn’t really understand, then answer his follow-up questions, which she definitely didn’t.

  The smell of coffee wafting out into the street – although it had that odd, slightly burned smell that she’d learnt to associate with American coffee shops – calmed her down a little. It felt more like home somehow. She sniffed. Something was odd. She could smell baking for sure, a warm smell that encompassed half the street. And she could see the cakes in the window. But the cakes in the window didn’t chime with the smell, which was much breadier. Something was up.

  She peered through the steamed-up window. Austin, to her amazement, was already there. It wasn’t like him to be on time, never mind early. He was inside chatting to someone. They were head to head. Issy blinked. He hadn’t mentioned bringing a friend.

  ‘Come ON,’ Darny was saying, hopping up and down. ‘It’s FREEZING out here.’

  ‘OK, OK,’ said Issy, and pushed open the door. The doorbell made an electronic noise. Issy preferred her real bell.

  Austin looked up, almost guiltily. The girl he was talking to was, Issy noticed, almost ridiculously pretty, with her perfect teeth and rosy mouth and lovely scattering of freckles. Issy wondered if she was being paranoid, but the girl seemed to shoot an angry look in her direction. Issy was going too far in her harsh judgements of New York and its inhabitants. She needed to calm down and lighten up a little. Everything was going to be better now.

  ‘Hello,’ she said as cheerily and generously as possible.

  Austin smiled. He still felt a bit awkward about this morning, and had a sense that things weren’t turning out quite as amazingly as he had thought they should be in his head.

  ‘Hello,’ he said.

  ‘New York sucks,’ announced Darny cheerfully, as if it confirmed all his long-held suspicions. ‘It’s freezing and really boring. But the food is good,’ he added, looking at the cupcakes.

  ‘Hello,’ said Kelly-Lee. She was slightly discomfited. Girlfriends she could handle, but she didn’t know they had a child. That was annoying. And Austin didn’t look anywhere near old enough. ‘Have you come to visit your dad?’

  ‘My dad’s dead,’ said Darny rudely, as he always did under the circumstances. ‘That’s my brother.’

  ‘Awww,’ said Kelly-Lee. Darny knew that ‘awww’. He and Austin exchanged glances.

  ‘Come here, tyke,’ said Austin.

  ‘Here, little man. Let me get you a cupcake. I don’t know if you have them in your country. It’s a special American treat, and here’s a Christmas one just for you!’

  Darny rolled his eyes, but he wasn’t about to turn down a free cake.

  Issy smiled tightly. Kelly-Lee glanced up at her. ‘Oh yes,’ she said. ‘I forgot, you bake, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Issy. She had realised what was weird about the smell; they were pumping it in. It was chemical. They hardly baked here at all.

  ‘For a real job or just for fun?’

  ‘It’s a real job,’ said Issy.

  ‘Oh,’ said Kelly-Lee. ‘I wanted to be an actress for a real job.’

  ‘Well, it’s nice to meet you,’ said Issy, slightly confused.

  ‘Me and Austin here have been hanging out, haven’t we?’ said Kelly-Lee, playfully putting her hand on his lapel. Then she came out from behind the counter to pick up some cups littering the tables, making sure she bent over at each one so Austin and Issy could both check out how amazingly tight and rounded her bottom was, after several hours of Pilates a week.

  Issy raised her eyebrows at Austin.

  ‘Um, she’s been very friendly,’ said Austin.

  ‘And don’t forget to call me!’ said Kelly-Lee. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll look after him for you when you’re not here!’ And she smiled her enormous wide American smile right in Issy’s face and gave her a cheery wave with her dishcloth before disappearing into the kitchen.

  Issy was fuming. ‘Who the hell is that?’ she said.

  ‘I don’t know, some girl,’ said Austin, confused.

  ‘Some girl? Some girl? You just happened to walk into a cupcake shop and start chatting with some girl?’

  ‘It was just chatting,’ said Austin.

  ‘So you didn’t take her number?’

  Austin thought back. ‘Well, she did give me her number … but I didn’t ask for it. I don’t even know where it is. She only gave it to me in case you didn’t get on that plane.’

  Issy blinked in disbelief. ‘What, if one cupcake girl wasn’t available, any one would do?’

  ‘No! No!’ said Austin. ‘You’re getting this all wrong. You’re taking everything all wrong! You have done since the moment you got here.’

  ‘I haven’t seen you since the moment I got here,’ said Issy, realising to her horror suddenly that she was on the brink of tears. They hardly ever fought. ‘Which I suppose I’d better get used to, seeing as you’re moving here with all the new people you know and all the cool New York stuff you do and I’ll just go back home and get on with my dreary baking life, which, by the way, is REAL BAKING,’ she shouted through the back so Kelly-Lee could hear. ‘Not this plastic crap they’re churning out here with fricking vegetable oils and sell-by dates. Do you know what the sell-by date of a cupcake is? It doesn’t have one. About an hour. So this is crap and everything here is crap and you’re coming here, for ever, and I realise I have to put up with that, but I don’t see why you should bloody start flaunting your new girls and new interests in front of me before I’ve even left.’

  Austin was stunned. He’d never heard an outburst like this from Issy before. He looked at her, upset. Also, he hadn’t understood the bit in the middle about vegetable oil.

  ‘Issy … Issy, please.’

  ‘No!’ said Issy. ‘Don’t turn this into me being all ungrateful and stupid. You make up your mind about what you want and don’t tell yourself you don’t know or that you’re still weighing up options. I met the people you’re going to be working with. They seem very confident that you’re about to move away from everything we have. But don’t worry about telling me, I’ll just put it together all by myself.’<
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  She turned round, grabbed her hat and stormed out of the shop.

  ‘Is she all right?’ said Kelly-Lee coming through from the back all wide-eyed and sympathetic. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realise she’d fly off the handle like that. Is she like that a lot? I hope I didn’t say anything wrong. Some people are just very dramatic, aren’t they?’

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ said Austin, not putting her straight, and leaving money for the coffee.

  ‘This cupcake is awful,’ said Darny. ‘By any reasonable judgement, it’s a terrible, terrible cake.’

  ‘You’re so cute,’ said Kelly-Lee. ‘I love your accent.’ Austin turned to Darny. ‘Can you stay here for five minutes?’ he said. ‘I’d better go and get Issy.’

  ‘With her? No chance,’ said Darny. ‘You can’t leave me, it’s illegal.’

  ‘Please, Darny,’ begged Austin.

  Darny folded his arms and looked mutinous. By the time Austin had bundled him out on to the street, there was no sign whatsoever of where Issy had gone.

  It was growing dark outside. It was icily, bitterly cold, as cold as Issy had ever known. People were dim outline shapes in enormous puffa jackets and huge hats and furs, like bouncy marshmallow men, hurrying and rushing to get inside. The sun was setting in bright pinks and reds and golds, cutting through the skyscrapers and casting endless shadows across the busy pavements. Issy hardly noticed; she ran, blindly, up the street, tears pricking at her eyes. It was time to face the truth, she knew. Austin was going to move here. He was going to make his home, and Darny’s home, over here, and that would be that. And all the girls would be all over him like a shot, and …