The figure stopped dead in their tracks, before flinging the rucksack over their shoulder and grabbing a handful of croissants. Molly watched as the figure then began to run like the clappers towards the green with Cam hurtling after them, his shoes sinking into the freshly laid snow. Gosh, they were quick.
Fuelled by adrenalin, Cam pushed his legs harder. There was no way he was letting the thief get away. The runner stumbled and Cam stretched out his arm and made a grab for the rucksack. The thief fell backwards and Cam put a firm grip on their shoulder and began to frogmarch them back towards the shop, but the culprit wasn’t giving up easily and wriggled and writhed. However, there was no escaping Cam’s grip as he bellowed across to Molly, who was watching aghast from the shop doorway, ‘Call the police. I’ve caught him.’
He hadn’t thought through what he was going to do next. Should he keep the person imprisoned in the bakery until the police showed up? Could he?
Molly nodded and rushed towards Cam’s mobile, which was on the counter.
‘Will you take your hands off me? You’re hurting me!’
Hearing a female voice, Molly stopped in her tracks and Cam immediately released his grip. They both stared at the hooded figure in confusion, then Molly realised she recognised the coat.
‘Bree? Is that you?’
‘You know her?’ Cam looked towards Molly.
They watched as Bree pushed down her hood and stared straight at Molly. ‘You need to keep him away from me. You can’t go around manhandling people.’ Bree’s voice was anxious as she edged backwards towards the door.
‘Oh, no you don’t.’ Hurriedly, Cam swung the door shut and locked it, placing the key safely in his pocket.
‘You can’t lock me in; you’ve kidnapped me. It’s me who should be reporting you.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. I am not kidnapping you and you’ve got a cheek. You’ve just stolen from me,’ Cam defended himself, looking towards Molly. ‘Ring the police,’ he repeated.
Molly hesitated. ‘I think we all just need to take a moment and calm down.’
Cam couldn’t believe what he was hearing and pointed at Bree in disbelief. ‘She’s just tried to steal our goods.’
‘We don’t need to get the police involved,’ Molly said, trying to calm the situation. ‘There’s no harm done, it’s only a few croissants.’
‘And that makes it all right, does it?’
‘No, it doesn’t but…’
Just looking at Bree was breaking Molly’s heart. She was standing there shivering with the cold. Her hands looked numb and her cheeks crimson from the bitter chill outside. The last thing this young girl needed was to be carted off to the police station and charged with a crime that would be on her record for a long time. She needed help, a warm by the fire and a good breakfast inside her.
‘What are your plans for this morning?’ asked Molly in a calm caring voice.
Bree was on the defensive. ‘I thought I’d open up my million-pound empire, maybe fly to New York on my private jet; I’ve not quite made up my mind yet. The world is my oyster.’ She shrugged.
Cam noted her sarcastic tone. His patience was wearing thin. ‘I’m calling the police; let them deal with this,’ he said adamantly as he picked up his mobile phone. But before he could dial the number, Molly took the phone out of his hand and placed it back on the counter before bustling him towards the back of the shop, leaving Bree standing alone, watching them closely.
‘There is no need to get the police involved. She wasn’t stealing the crown jewels; it’s just a few pastries and croissants,’ Molly insisted in a hushed whisper. ‘She’s hungry.’
‘Are you insane? Stealing is stealing. We know that. It’s wrong.’
Molly knew exactly what Cam was referring to. ‘It’s been over five years since your cousin tried to rip off Dixie and swindle her out of this place and Bumblebee Cottage. He’s paid the price and is still paying the price. This is a totally different situation and not one we are talking about now.’ She glanced back over her shoulder to see Bree running her finger over the jams and chutneys on the shelves. ‘Look, I know you don’t trust anyone, but in the grand scheme of things, this isn’t a big deal. All Bree is doing is fighting for survival. She’s a child that’s hungry. Put yourself in her shoes. Where’s your compassion?’ Molly exhaled; she had been speaking metaphorically but she’d noticed the state of Bree’s shoes, which looked like they had seen better days.
‘She also knows the difference between right and wrong. What’s going to happen if she goes back to all her friends and tells them we are an easy target? They could be flocking in their droves to rob us blind.’
‘How many friends do you think she’s got? Not many … if any… Please just let me deal with this.’
‘I can hear you both, you know.’ Bree was standing with her arms folded as she looked between them but then fixed her stare on Molly.
And there it was again, that look in her eye that triggered something inside Molly that she couldn’t shake off. Briefly closing her eyes, she tried to push the image away but it flooded her mind. There was her own tiny hand gripping on to a stranger as she was led out of a dark and dingy room. Molly steadied herself and put both hands on the counter.
‘Are you okay?’ asked Cam, noticing that Molly had suddenly paled.
‘Yes,’ she replied, taking in a deep breath. She didn’t know what was happening. Why were these images and emotions surfacing all of a sudden? ‘Honestly, you go and get the deliveries done. Leave this to me.’
