Meet Me at the Cupcake Café Page 22

  Issy glanced up. At first she didn’t recognize the woman who crashed into the room. Then she realized it was Linda, haberdashery Linda, normally so composed, whose life was never upset or the least bit disorganized.

  ‘Hello!’ Issy said, pleased to see her. ‘What’s up?’

  Linda rolled her eyes. She glanced around the shop and Issy realized with a slightly annoyed pang that this was the first time Linda had ever been in. She’d thought she might have been a bit more supportive, seeing as she was local and everything, and they’d stood together in rain and shine.

  Issy’s irritation was swept away in an instant, however, when Linda stopped and took a breath.

  ‘Oh dear, it’s lovely in here. I had no idea, I thought it was just a little sideline. I’m so sorry! If only I’d known.’

  Pearl, who’d leafleted her at least three times, harrumphed, but Issy nudged her to stop it and Pearl went back to serving the postman, who came in after his rounds far too often. (Issy was worried eating cupcakes twice a day wasn’t terribly good for him. Pearl reckoned he was just after her. They were both right.)

  ‘Well, you’re here now,’ she said. ‘Welcome! What would you like?’

  Linda looked anxious. ‘I have to … I have to … Can you help me?’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘It’s … it’s Leanne’s wedding – tomorrow. But her cake company … A friend said she would make her cake and then she got it all muddled up or something and anyway Leanne’s paid hundreds of pounds but she doesn’t have a wedding cake.’

  Issy later realized what it must have cost Linda to utter these words about her perfect daughter who never put a foot wrong. She looked close to breaking down.

  ‘No cake on her wedding day! And I still have five hundred things on my checklist.’

  Issy remembered that this was the wedding to end all weddings, the wedding Linda had been talking about for over a year and a half.

  ‘OK, OK, calm down, I’m sure we can help you,’ she said. ‘How many are we talking about? Seventy?’

  ‘Um …’ said Linda, and mumbled something so quietly Issy missed it.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘…’ said Linda again.

  ‘That’s odd,’ said Issy, ‘because it sounded like four hundred.’

  Linda raised her red-rimmed eyes to Issy.

  ‘It’s all going to fall apart. My only daughter’s wedding! It’s going to be a disaster!’ And she burst into sobs.

  By seven thirty, when they’d only got the second batch in, Issy already knew they weren’t going to make it. Pearl was a saint, a hero and an absolute trooper and had stayed on without a second thought (and Issy knew the overtime couldn’t hurt), but they couldn’t use today’s cakes. They had to start absolutely afresh, as well as designing some kind of structure to hold the cupcakes in the shape of a wedding cake.

  ‘My arm hurts,’ said Pearl, stirring in ingredients for the mixer. ‘Shall we have the wine first then get started?’

  Issy shook her head. ‘That would turn out very poorly,’ she said. ‘Oh God, if only I knew someone who wants to …’ She stopped short and looked at Pearl. ‘Of course I could phone …’

  Pearl read her mind instantly.

  ‘Not her. Anyone but her.’

  ‘There’s nobody else,’ said Issy. ‘Nobody at all. I’ve called them all.’

  Pearl sighed, then looked back at the bowl.

  ‘What time is this wedding?’

  ‘Ten am.’

  ‘I want to cry.’

  ‘Me too,’ said Issy. ‘Or, phone someone who might be a bit of a time-and-motion specialist.’

  Pearl hated to admit it. But Issy had been right. The scrawny blonde woman had marched in in an immaculate professional chef’s uniform – she’d bought it for a week’s cooking in Tuscany, she informed them, a gift from her ex-husband, who’d celebrated her absence by spending the entire time with his mistress – and immediately organized them into a production line, timed with the dinging of the oven.

  After a while, once they were in the swing of things, Pearl put on the radio and they found themselves, suddenly, dancing in a row to Katy Perry, adding sugar and butter, baking and icing, tray after tray after tray without missing a moment’s heat, and the pile in front of them steadily grew. Caroline improvised a cake stand out of old packaging and covered it beautifully with wedding paper they picked up from the newsagent, all the while telling them about the £900 cake she’d had specially made for her wedding by an Italian patissier from Milan, which in the end she didn’t get to eat because she spent the entire day talking to one of her dad’s friends who wanted to know how to get his daughter into marketing, while the evil ex got drunk with all his college friends, including his ex-girlfriend, and didn’t even bother to come and rescue her.

  ‘I should have known it was doomed,’ she said.

  ‘Why didn’t you?’ asked Pearl, quite shortly. Caroline looked at her.

  ‘Oh Pearl. You’d understand if you’d ever been married.’

  And Pearl growled at her, quietly, behind the dairy fridge.

  The cupcakes they smothered in a pure creamy vanilla icing, seemingly whipped effortlessly by Issy to perfection, with silver balls marking out the initials for Leanne and Scott, her groom-to-be. This was the worst job. By 11.30, Pearl was dotting the balls on anyhow and insisting they spelled L/S. But still the cakes grew and balanced and turned into, indeed, a magnificent wedding cake dusted with pink sparkly icing sugar.

  ‘Come on, chop chop,’ shouted Caroline. ‘Stir like you mean it.’

  Pearl glanced at Issy. ‘I think she thinks she works here already.’

  ‘I think maybe she does,’ said Issy quietly.

  Caroline beamed and momentarily stopped production.

  ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘Thank you. This is … this is the first good thing that’s happened in a while.’

  ‘Oh good,’ said Issy. ‘I was a bit worried about you, you’re looking terribly thin.’

  ‘OK, the second good thing to happen,’ said Caroline. Pearl rolled her eyes. But when they finally got to go home just after midnight, she knew they couldn’t have done it without her.

  ‘Thanks,’ Pearl said, grudgingly.

  ‘That’s all right,’ said Caroline. ‘Are you catching a cab home?’

  Pearl grimaced. ‘Cabs don’t go where I live.’

  ‘Oh really?’ said Caroline. ‘Are you out in the country? How lovely.’

  Issy ushered Caroline out before she could get herself in more trouble, and asked her to start off by covering a good lunch hour for Pearl and herself, before increasing her hours, all going well, to make them all happy.

  ‘Absolutely,’ said Caroline. ‘I’m going to order my book group to start meeting here. And my Stitch ’n’ Bitch. And my Jamie at Home Tupperware party. And my rotary club. And my Italian Renaissance art evening class.’

  Issy hugged her. ‘Have you been terribly lonely?’

  ‘Dreadfully so.’

  ‘I hope you start to feel better.’

  ‘Thank you.’ And Caroline accepted the large bag of cakes Issy pressed on her.

  ‘Don’t give me that look,’ said Issy to Pearl, even though Pearl was standing behind her. ‘You are mostly right, I’ll give you that. That’s not the same thing as always right.’

  The next morning was glorious; the entire city felt like it had dressed in green for a wedding day. Pearl and Issy inched across town in a cab, terrified their confection would wobble apart, but it held firm. They arranged it as the centrepiece of a huge table covered in pink stars and balloons.

  Linda and Leanne came running up to meet them. When the bride, young and pink in her strapless dress, caught sight of the hundreds of delicately snow-iced soft pastel cupcakes, her mouth dropped open, showing newly whitened teeth.

  ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘It’s so beautiful! It’s so beautiful! I love it! I love it! Thank you! Thank you so much!’ And she hugged them both.

&nb
sp; ‘Leanne!’ hollered Linda. ‘I can’t believe we’re going to have to do your eye make-up again. We’re paying this makeup artist by the hour, you know.’

  Leanne dabbed frantically under her eyes.

  ‘Sorry, sorry, I’ve done nothing but burst into tears for about four hours. Everything is, argh, just so crazy. But you guys … you have totally saved my wedding.’

  A woman rushed into the assembly room and started fiddling about with Leanne’s hair.

  ‘The car’s on its way,’ said somebody else. ‘Wedding minus forty-five.’

  Leanne’s mouth opened in a paroxysm of panic. ‘Oh my Gawd,’ she yelled. ‘Oh my Gawd.’ She clasped Pearl and Issy. ‘Will you stay? Please? Stay.’

  ‘We would love to,’ said Issy, ‘but—’

  ‘I have to get back to my boy,’ said Pearl firmly. ‘But the best of luck to you.’

  ‘You are going to have a wonderful day,’ Issy added, pressing a pile of business cards on the table next to the cake.

  And Linda threw her arms around them both. Then they emerged at the top of the steps, out into a beautiful London day with pigeons sunning themselves on the pavement, and people passing on their way to coffees and markets and to buy cloth for saris and meat for barbecues and beer for football and goat’s cheese for dinner parties, and papers for the park, and ice creams for children. Already Leanne’s friends were gathering on the steps, young and gorgeous, with carefully set hair and bright dresses like peacocks; high strappy sandals and bare shoulders, a little ambitious for a May wedding. They were squealing in excitement and complimenting each other on their outfits and playing nervously with small bags and cigarettes and confetti.

  Always the caterer, never the bride, thought Issy to herself, a tad ruefully.

  ‘Well, enough of that,’ said Pearl cheerfully, whipping off her apron. ‘I’m off to give my boy a cuddle and tell him he might be able to see his mother occasionally from now on, now the Wicked Witch of the West has started work.’

  ‘Stop it!’ said Issy teasingly. ‘She’s going to be fine. Now, scoot.’

  Pearl kissed her on the cheek.

  ‘Go home and get some rest,’ she said.

  But Issy didn’t much feel like getting some rest; it was a gorgeous afternoon, and she felt antsy and unsettled. She was considering hopping on a bus at random and going for a wander, when she spotted a familiar figure at the bus stop. He was bent over, fiddling with the laces of a small skinny boy with sticky-up auburn hair and a cross look on his face.

  ‘But I want them like this,’ the boy was saying.

  ‘Well, they’re impossible knots that you keep tripping over!’ The man sounded exasperated.

  ‘That’s how I want them.’

  ‘Well, at least try and trip over a paving stone and then we can sue the council.’

  Austin straightened up, and was so surprised to see Issy there, he nearly stepped backwards into the road.

  ‘Oh, hello,’ he said.

  ‘Hello.’ Issy tried to make sure she didn’t go red. ‘Uh, hi.’

  ‘Hi,’ said Austin. There was a pause.

  ‘Who are you?’ said the small boy, rudely.

  ‘Hello. Well, I’m Issy,’ said Issy. ‘Who are you?’

  ‘Duh. I’m Darny,’ said Darny. ‘Are you going to be one of Austin’s drippy girlfriends?’

  ‘Darny!’ said Austin in a warning tone.

  ‘Are you going to come round at night and cook horrible suppers and use a silly voice and say, “Oh, so tragic for Darny to lose his mummy and daddy, let me look after you”, kissy kissy kissy smooch smooch yawn stop telling me when to go to bed?’

  Austin wanted the ground to open and swallow him up. Although Issy didn’t look offended; rather, she looked like she was about to laugh.

  ‘Is that what they do?’ she asked. Darny nodded, mutinously. ‘That does sound boring. No, I’m nothing like that. I work with your dad and I live up this road here, that’s all.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Darny.

  ‘I guess that’s all right.’

  ‘I guess so too.’ She smiled at Austin. ‘Are you well?’

  ‘I will be once I have this ten-year-old surgically removed.’

  ‘Hahaha,’ said Darny. ‘That wasn’t me really laughing,’ he said to Issy. ‘I was pretending to laugh and being sarcastic.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Issy. ‘Sometimes I do that too.’

  ‘Where are you off to?’ asked Austin.

  ‘In fact I’ve been working all night, you’ll be pleased to hear,’ she said. ‘Catering for a wedding at a nearby town hall. And I’ve taken on a new member of staff. She’s great … slightly evil, but on the whole …’

  ‘Oh, that’s terrific,’ said Austin, and his face broke into a large smile. He was genuinely, truly happy for her, Issy realized. Not just from the bank’s point of view, but personally.

  ‘No, where are you going now?’ said Darny. ‘That’s what he asked you. Because we’re going to the aquarium. Would you like to come?’

  Austin raised his eyebrows. This was totally unprecedented. Darny made a point of disliking all grown-ups and being rude to them to forestall their mooning all over him. To spontaneously invite someone somewhere was unheard of.

  ‘Well,’ said Issy, ‘I was thinking of going home to bed.’

  ‘While it’s light?’ said Darny. ‘Is someone making you?’

  ‘In fact, no,’ said Issy.

  ‘OK,’ said Darny. ‘Come with us.’

  Issy glanced at Austin.

  ‘Oh, I probably should …’

  Austin knew it wasn’t professional. She probably wouldn’t even want to. But, he couldn’t help it. He liked her. He was going to ask her. And that was that.

  ‘Come,’ he said. ‘I’ll buy you a frappucino.’

  ‘Bribery,’ said Issy, smiling. ‘That’s what’ll get me to spend my Saturday looking at fish.’

  And at that moment the bus rounded the corner and, after a second, all three of them got on it.

  The aquarium was quiet – the first lovely sunny day of the year had prompted most people out of doors – and Darny was utterly transfixed by the tanks of fish; little quicksilver shoals, or huge great coelacanths that looked left over from the age of the dinosaurs. Austin and Issy talked; quietly, because the dark, warm underground environment seemed to encourage a quiet tone of voice; small revelations; and it was easier, somehow, to talk in the half-light, barely able to see one another except for the outline of Issy’s curls backlit by jellyfish, pink and luminous, or the tankful of phosphorescence that shimmered and reflected in Austin’s glasses.

  Issy found the worries and cares of the café, which had lain on her relentlessly for months, it felt, somehow get soothed away in the strange underwater tranquillity, as Austin made her laugh with stories about Darny at school or touched on, without a trace of self-pity, how hard it was to be a single parent who wasn’t even a parent. And in return, Issy found herself talking about her own mother – normally when she spoke of her family, she talked about how amazing her grandfather was, and how they’d all lived together, and made it sound cosy. But talking to someone who knew how it felt to lose a parent, absolutely and irrevocably, made it easier somehow to talk about how her mother had danced in and out of her life, trying to make herself happy but not succeeding in making anyone happy.

  ‘Were your parents happy?’ she asked.

  Austin thought about it. ‘You know, I never considered it. Your parents are just your parents, aren’t they? It never even occurs to you till you grow up, whatever they’re like, that they aren’t completely normal. But yes, I think they were. I used to see them touch all the time, and they were close, always physically close, holding hands, close to one another on the sofa.’

  Without thinking, Issy glanced down at her own hand. It was silhouetted in front of a gently glowing tank filled with darting eels, not far from Austin’s. It crossed her mind: how would it feel if she was to take his hand then and there? Would h
e pull away? She could almost feel her fingers tingle in anticipation.

  ‘And of course, there was the fact of them being completely and utterly ancient and having another baby when all their friends were becoming grandparents. So, you know, something must have gone all right. Of course at the time I thought it was totally disgusting …’

  Issy smiled. ‘I bet you didn’t really. I bet you loved him from the get go.’

  Austin glanced over at Darny, whose eyes were wide; his gaze following the shark around its tank, completely hypnotized.

  ‘Of course I did,’ mumbled Austin, and turned away slightly, his hand moving further from Issy’s, who felt embarrassed suddenly, like she’d gone a little too far.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean to be so personal.’

  ‘It’s not that,’ said Austin, his voice a little muffled. ‘It’s just … I would have liked to know them, you know? As a grown-up, not an overgrown teenager.’

  ‘You’re making me want to go phone my mum,’ said Issy.

  ‘You should,’ said Austin.

  Now it was Issy’s turn to glance away.

  ‘She’s changed her number,’ she said quietly.

  And almost without realizing he was doing it, Austin put out his hand to take hers, at first in a gentle squeeze, but then suddenly he didn’t want to put it down.

  ‘Ice cream!’ came a very loud voice from below them. Immediately they dropped each other’s hand. It was too dark down here, Issy found herself thinking. Like a nightclub.

  ‘I spoke to the shark,’ said Darny importantly to his brother. ‘He said that I would make a very good marine biologist and also that it would be OK for me to have some ice cream now. In fact he thought it was quite important. That I got some ice cream. Now.’

  Austin looked at Issy, trying to read her face, but it was impossible in the gloom. It was very awkward, all of a sudden.

  ‘Um, ice cream?’ he said.