‘But it’s a family business.’
Molly could have predicted Cam’s words. She knew how much the business meant to him, and how much he wanted to make his grandmother proud. After all, this was the icing on the cake: her cherished grandson moving into The Old Bakehouse and opening up the bakery shop again after all these years. But Cam was going to run himself into the ground if he didn’t acknowledge the fact that he needed help.
‘And we are your family, that little boy through there and this baby right here. We need you to be fit and healthy, not run into the ground. We just need to find you the right apprentice or a shop assistant, someone who complements the business, not complicates it. It may take time but as soon as this little one is born, I’m going to have my hands full, and at some point I need to go back to my vet’s surgery. I can’t leave it in Rory’s capable hands for ever.’
‘I know it’s not easy and I do appreciate your help. I can only imagine how, after dropping George at school, you want to put your feet up.’
Molly knew it was far from easy. With the combination of the baby kicking and heartburn throughout the night, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a proper night’s sleep.
‘That is so, but though you know I’ll help out as much as possible, and Dixie works on a Monday, your grandmother isn’t getting any younger either, Cam. At least promise me you’ll think about giving someone a job. As a business we can afford it. Can’t we?’ Molly knew she’d tagged the question on the end to gauge Cam’s reaction. Were his recent mood swings down to worry over the business? Was it in financial difficulty?
Cam looked at her. ‘Of course we can afford it, but it just has to be the right person.’
‘I agree with you. And what’s this…’ She pinched his chin playfully. ‘That stubble is fast becoming a beard and your hair needs a trim, and those bags under your eyes are rather on the dark side, and you drink a bucketful of coffee to keep yourself going each day. Sooner or later something has to give and I’m hoping that it’s not going to be you.’
Every morning, the kitchen at The Old Bakehouse was a hive of activity from three a.m. when Cam started work. He baked all the loaves and pastries from scratch before the rest of the village began to stir and he was ready to greet customers with his beatific smile when the doors opened for business. Cam was the life and soul of the bakery, thriving on the everyday chat with the villagers.
‘Why don’t we advertise, just to see what the response is like? It couldn’t hurt.’ Cam’s jaw became rigid and Molly knew he needed a little more persuasion. ‘Just think about it. It would take me literally five minutes to write up a job advert and post it.’
‘I know, it’s just hard because no one will love this business as much as me.’
Molly knew the reason why Cam was reluctant to let anyone in. He’d had a previous business and worked hard to set up his empire, but then it all went to his ex-wife in the divorce settlement. That’s when he started over fresh in Heartcross and opened up The Old Bakehouse.
‘History will not repeat itself; we are a family now and I won’t let you down.’ Molly knew they were only words, and Cam’s past hurt ran deep, but all she could do was prove it to him. ‘You aren’t asking anyone to be a partner, you just need a decent shop assistant and maybe an apprentice baker who could learn the ropes and help to lessen your load in the meantime. It’s the perfect plan. We could interview them together.’
Molly knew very well the pressures of running your own business; it had been exactly the same for her in the early days of starting up her veterinary surgery. She was reluctant to share or let go of the reins and micro-managed everything. It was only since becoming a mother that her priorities had changed and she’d finally admitted she was burning herself out – and, in her eyes, that’s exactly what Cam was doing now. If only he could see it himself.
Molly didn’t need to say anything else to Cam as she could see he was mulling over the idea as he glanced around the shop. He wasn’t one for making rash decisions. He was one for thinking things over, and in his own time hopefully he’d suggest it as though it was his idea in the first place.
‘I’m going to load up the leftovers onto the van and get over to the shelter.’
‘Are you sure you don’t want me to go?’
‘You get George ready for bed.’
‘Okay, and maybe I’ll run you a bath for when you get back.’ His eyes flashed with that knowing look.
‘Offering to run me a bath … making me a hot chocolate … I know exactly what you are thinking.’
He grinned at her then, a smile that implied she knew him inside and out. She gently pushed the empty mug against his chest. ‘The sooner I get to the shelter, the sooner I’ll be back. Now go and see to George.’ Molly pressed a swift kiss to Cam’s cheek and grabbed her coat from the hook at the back of the shop.
As she began to take the leftover baked goods from the shelves and load them into large wicker baskets for the shelter, she began to think about how lucky she was. She’d been adopted as a very young child by Di and Doug but her life could have taken a very different path if she’d stayed with her biological parents, who’d had her when they were sixteen.
Their lives had been fuelled by alcohol and drug abuse and she had no clue what had happened to them, if they had stayed together, or even if they were still alive. Even though she’d been curious at times to know more about them, she’d never felt strongly enough to do anything about it. She loved her life just the way it was.
Her thoughts turned back to all those people who’d be queuing up outside the shelter on this cold frosty night. Tonight, the temperature would hit minus five and, as soon as the shelter doors opened, the homeless would be grateful for the warmth, a bowl of hot soup and the company of others. No time was a good time to be homeless, but the winter months always brought extra challenges.
‘I’m just heading out,’ she shouted to Cam who appeared in the doorway giving George a piggyback. ‘You pair are a vision of total gorgeousness,’ she chirped, pinching George’s cheek lightly before placing a noisy kiss on it, leaving George playfully wiping it away.
Cam looked towards the window, his eyes full of concern once more. ‘Please let me go tonight? I really don’t like the thought of you venturing out in this.’
‘Honestly, I’ll be okay,’ she replied, slipping her arms into her coat then attempting to do up the buttons. ‘Oh my!’ She looked down at her stomach. ‘I think I may have put on a little too much weight,’ she acknowledged, but she was grinning as she wound her scarf around her neck and pulled on her hat and gloves.
‘You look as fat as Father Christmas,’ George said, pointing at Molly’s stomach.
‘Don’t you be cheeky, you little ragamuffin. Now you be good for Daddy and go and get your bath.’
Six-thirty was always bathtime, seven o’clock a bedtime story, and at seven-thirty George was tucked up in bed and Cam and Molly finally got to spend a couple of hours together before Cam went to bed.
