Mina laughed again. ‘Well, that’s extraordinarily generous of you. I would love to have it. Thank you. Perhaps Franz would like to be paid in cake occasionally?’ Mina knew there would be times when cake needed eating up, it was good to know grateful recipients in advance.
His eyes lit up and he nodded enthusiastically.
The Hubers left and the tidying up was done remarkably quickly. As they said, many hands made light work, but Mina’s heart was heavy. She’d really thought that Luke would come.
‘I’ll just stay a minute,’ she said as the others prepared to leave.
Amelie gave her a fond smile. ‘See you upstairs.’
Switching out all but one small lamp, she sank into a chair, her arm resting on the table and checked her phone. She’d posted the time of the opening on Facebook and Instagram, on both her personal and business pages. In her heart of hearts she’d honestly believed that Luke would turn up. She’d believed in serendipity.
‘And that’s what you get, Mina Campbell, for believing in superstitious, romantic rubbish. This is real life, not a flipping film. You’re a scientist, for goodness’ sake. You of all people know that cakes are made with chemical reactions, not magic. The correct quantities of x and y equal z.’ She spoke out loud, cursing herself for being such an idiot. ‘It stops here and now.’ Luke wasn’t coming. He’d really gone. How could she blame him? She hadn’t expected to miss him so much, or for it to hurt like this, or for him to sidle into her thoughts each and every sodding day. She’d lost count of the number of times she had would-be conversations in her head with him, imagining telling him about the triumphs of her day and the funny things that had gone wrong. Did he feel the same way?
Probably not. He knew where she was, he could have sent her a message for today. He knew how much it meant to her.
She had to accept he wasn’t coming back. It bloody sucked, and went against the grain for someone who always found a way, for someone who didn’t give up. It really bloody sucked. She realised she didn’t do defeat awfully well. No matter how hard she tried to focus on the future and all the positives, the heaviness of loss grated.
It was over and she had the face the fact that serendipity didn’t exist.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Minds were bloody contrary things, decided Mina, thumping her pillow. Why didn’t they do what you wanted them to do? Instead of letting her relish the triumph of her opening party, hers now insisted on coming up with a-gazillion-and-one ideas for Amelie and Johannes’s wedding cake, and refused to let sleeping Lukes lie.
Wedding cake, that was what she would focus on today. Amelie might think that a few weeks allowed plenty of time but Mina knew better. She needed a design. To practise. Get the couple’s approval. As this weekend was probably going to be her last free one before the café opened officially on Monday, she decided to get a head start and catch the train to Brig to visit the wholesalers to look at ingredients and cake-decorating supplies to find out what was on offer. There was no point coming up with a dozen ideas if she then couldn’t make them happen.
Throwing the covers off, she dived into the shower and dressed quickly in jeans, sweater, and a scarf, without even bothering to look in the mirror, and dragged a quick comb through her hair because she didn’t need to see her reflection to know she’d be sporting a halo of bed-head frizz.
The shy tendrils of spring, with early green shoots poking through the snow, extended to the temperature, and it definitely felt a few degrees warmer as she walked down to the station pulling along a small cabin bag. She knew herself too well, she was bound to end up buying supplies today, and this seemed eminently practical if, as she was bound to, she got carried away and bought more than she could carry.
The train, although busy today, was full of local people going shopping with far fewer tourists than usual, and she got the sense of the winter season starting to ebb away. Part of her felt sad about that, but another part excited to see what summer would bring. She wondered if there was a twilight period between seasons where the local people existed in a quiet lull before the storm.
More people clambered on with shopping bags at each station, and by the time the train pulled into Brig it was packed. As soon as she walked from the station to the town centre she quickly realised why. Market stalls lined the cobbled streets, their colourful awnings bright in the morning sunshine. Foodie heaven, decided Mina, quickening her steps as she crossed to the nearest stall, which was filled with cured meats in every shape and size as well as traditional Swiss Cervelat sausage. For a moment she marvelled at the selection, wishing she knew more about what they all were, before moving on to the next straw-covered stall offering an amazing array of cheese. A giant round of Emmental sat upright on its side, surrounded by small, different-coloured, round cheeses, like babies that had spilled out of the nest. Baskets containing thick wedges of every shade of golden, cream, and white cheeses were arranged along the front of the stall, and in the middle were tubs of soft cheese with big wooden spoons.
‘Want to try some?’ asked the good-looking man behind the stall in perfect English. Wearing a black down jacket and a wool hat, his blue eyes gave her a quick once-over.
‘I’d love to.’ Mina smiled at him, part friendliness and part amusement at his obvious interest. ‘What’s that one?’
Before long she’d tried half the cheeses stall and found herself chatting away (and flirting just a little) to Hans, who ran the stall for his father, who made cheese in Biel, not far from Reckingen.
‘I’d love to stock your cheese, if it’s of interest,’ she said, having told him about the café, which he already knew all about – apparently it was the hot topic of gossip in the villages.
‘I wish you luck.’ He gave her a card. ‘Speak to my father.’
‘Thank you, that’s brilliant. I was wondering how to go about finding local suppliers.’
‘Ah, wait. Hey, Walter,’ he called to the meat stall holder and spoke quick-fire German.
Twenty minutes later she had a handful of cards and a bag full of samples of cheese and salamis, and two new friends, both of whom promised to visit when they next went out hiking, and to send all their friends and neighbours. She wished she had a card to press on them.
‘Thanks so much, Hans,’ she said the cheese stallholder. ‘You’ve been so helpful.’
‘No problem. Perhaps we could have a coffee sometime? My number’s on the card.’
Mina paused for a moment. There had to be life after Luke. ‘That would be nice,’ she said, smiling back at him. She had to start somewhere.
‘Great,’ he beamed at her.
Leaving them, she skirted a stall full of fresh bread, the scent filling the air, making her stomach rumble. Moving on, she ambled the streets, basking in the sunshine until she decided to treat herself to a coffee. She rather enjoyed being on her own. This last few weeks had been frenetic with so much to do, and hopefully the café would have plenty of customers, even though Reckingen was such a small place. According to faithful Google, it was a good walk to the wholesalers, and although the sun shone, the ground temperature was still quite cold, so she took a taxi, asking him in her best German to return in an hour and a half to take her back to the station.
