‘Would you like me to get you a glass of water?’
Dixie shook her head. ‘It’s okay. For a second there you reminded me of someone. The resemblance is uncanny, those hazel eyes of yours…’ Dixie gave herself a little shake. ‘Are you from around these parts?’ she asked.
‘Grew up in a couple of villages but originally I’m from the outskirts of Glensheil,’ replied Bree.
‘And you said your name was…’
‘Bree.’
Dixie didn’t know of anyone with that name but there was something about the girl standing in front of her that seemed all too familiar. If only she could put her finger on it. ‘I just never forget a face, which I know is quite a thing at my age.’ She gave a little chuckle, then blew her nose into her handkerchief. ‘And this cold is making me feel sorry for myself. I’m going to get back up under the duvet for a while and recharge my batteries. Will you let Cam and Molly know I called in?’
‘Of course,’ replied Bree and watched Dixie leave the shop.
With no other customers in sight, Bree returned to the living room to check on George and smiled. The film was still playing on the TV but George had fallen to sleep. His duvet was pulled up under his chin and a teddy bear tucked under his arm. Bree stopped the film and switched off the TV. Then she stepped back into the bakery kitchen, where Great-Uncle Ted’s recipe bible was still on the worktop. She glanced over the chocolate bread recipe then looked around the kitchen. She used to have lovely happy memories of baking with her mum so without giving it another thought she gathered all the ingredients together and began to make the chocolate sauce, combining Belgian chocolate from the shelf with the rest of the ingredients.
Once the chocolate sauce was made, Bree rolled the dough into rectangles then, just as her mother had taught her and according to Ted’s recipe, she covered the dough with half the chocolate sauce leaving one inch of room on all sides. She did exactly the same with the second piece of dough and used up the remaining sauce. Then, using a bench scraper, she carefully cut each log vertically in half making sure the seam was side down. Bree was enjoying herself. She sang as she baked then suddenly stopped and looked in the mirror. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually sung out loud and she looked daft wearing the baker’s hat but she smiled at her reflection. Feeling happy yet with a tiny pang in her heart she wondered what her mum would think, knowing that since she’d passed away Bree’s life had spiralled out of control. It wasn’t as though Bree didn’t have ambitions – she had dreams, she wanted to be successful, hardworking just like her mum – but it was proving difficult with no proper base to call home.
Laying the next piece of dough horizontally, and then the other vertically, she repeated the pattern, weaving the dough then shaping it into a circle, tucking the excess pieces under the rest of the dough. After transferring it to baking paper, she brushed it with egg wash and slid it into the oven.
Swiping her hands together, Bree felt proud of her attempt. She had enjoyed every second of her time in the kitchen. It made a change – usually she would be pounding the pavements, trawling the shop windows looking for job vacancies that she had no chance of getting when they discovered she lived on the streets.
With the bread baking nicely in the oven and the kitchen cleaned, Bree carefully placed Ted’s recipe bible back on the shelf and took in the aroma.
The chocolate bread smelled divine and she hoped it tasted just as good. With George still asleep, she made a cup of tea and dusted down the shelves of jams and chutneys then sat on the stool behind the counter, looking out over the green. For the first time in a long time, Bree felt a sense of importance, self-worth. She was aware that she was smiling. Today she was a bakery assistant and that might not mean much to some, but to her it meant the world.
Bree was just about to check on George when the old-fashioned bell above the shop door tinkled again. She jumped off the stool and stood to attention behind the counter, transfixed. Standing in front of her was the handsomest boy she’d ever set eyes on; he literally took her breath away. She felt her heart beat a little faster. Their eyes stayed locked until Bree had a moment of shyness and looked away briefly. Reminding herself to breathe calmly she slowly looked up again. The boy standing in front of her gave her a lopsided grin.
‘I don’t think we’ve met?’ He extended his hand. ‘Ash.’
He was undeniably good looking, with a mane of blonde hair swept back from the smoothest skin, a chiselled jawline and piercing blue eyes. He towered over her, his bright-blue eyes looking down on her, and there was a softness to his gaze that put Bree immediately at ease. She guessed he must be around eighteen. ‘You must be the postman.’ She stretched out her hand. ‘I’m Bree.’
‘Must be the uniform that gave it away.’ Was it Bree’s imagination or did he have a glint in his eye?
She held his gaze and shook his hand.
‘Woah, your hand is freezing!’ exclaimed Bree as she retracted her own quickly, hoping the boy hadn’t seen the blush to her cheek, the slightest touch of his hand causing a little flutter in her stomach.
‘Yeah, sorry about that, it’s a little chilly out there this morning.’ He grinned, reaching into the post bag that was slung over his shoulder and pulling out a pile of letters. ‘Is Cam around?’
‘He isn’t. They will hopefully be back within the hour though, if you want to call back?’ suggested Bree.
‘I need to apologise,’ Ash shared. ‘Yesterday, I dropped the post off first thing in the morning and missed out some letters. It was just junk mail but when I came back there was no one around so I left them on the counter by the till, right there, and somehow, I accidently picked up Cam’s phone, thinking it was mine. I thought I’d had my phone in my hand when I was sorting the post but it was in my pocket. It was only later when I heard it ringing that I realised it wasn’t mine, but then the battery died before I had chance to answer. I did leave an answerphone message on the landline number, telling him I’d return it this morning. Can I leave it with you?’ Ash delved once more into his bag and held the phone towards Bree.
‘Of course, I’ll make sure he gets it as soon as he gets back.’
‘Thank you.’ Ash handed the phone over, his cold fingers brushing once more against Bree’s.
‘Is this your normal round?’ she asked, placing a croissant in a white paper bag and sliding it across the counter.
‘Hopefully, especially if I meet nice folk like you.’ He was grinning widely and Bree wondered whether he was flirting with her a little. ‘It’s only my second day on the job and, I have to say, winter is not the best season to begin work as a postman,’ he said, rummaging in his pocket and placing a handful of coins on the counter.
‘On the house,’ said Bree, ‘and take this.’ She made him a cup of coffee in a polystyrene cup. ‘I can’t have you freezing on your second week at work, now can I?’ she said, giving him a warm smile.
‘Very kind. Are you from around here?’ he asked.
‘I’m from everywhere,’ she replied, then realised how confusing that sounded as Ash raised an eyebrow and so she added, ‘Kind of. I grew up in Glensheil. It’s my first morning in the bakery. If you want to pop by again that would be great.’ Bree didn’t know why she had said that, because it wasn’t as though she would be working there every day. It was just a one-off, but the little white lie gave her a little boost that made her feel she was worthy of having a job. There was something about Ash that she quite liked.
‘No doubt I’ll see you around,’ he said, hoisting his post bag up on his shoulder.
