Vanessa smiled. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Come on then, let’s see another of your bakes today,” said Joey, turning back to her work surface, which was already generously covered in flour.
“And if I do, what do I get in return?” asked Vanessa. She hadn’t meant the teasing, flirting quality to come out in her voice, but there was something about Joey that put it there without her intending it. Something that made her behave differently.
Joey seemed to pause for a moment before speaking. “I don’t really think that’s how it works.”
Immediately, Vanessa wished she’d not said anything. Why could she not stay quiet?
After a minute or two Joey spoke again. “How about I show you how to bake duquesas?”
Vanessa nodded. “Ok, you have a deal.”
Several hours later, Joey and Vanessa sat down for a break, complete with the duquesas they’d made – apple tarts edged with chocolate – and Vanessa’s lemon drizzle cake.
“Now this looks like you have been working very hard, Josefina,” said Carmen, pulling up a chair while one of her part-time members of staff took over at the counter.
“Not just me,” said Joey. “Vanessa baked this lemon drizzle.”
“A British classic,” said Vanessa, delighted that Joey had acknowledged her. “Although I note that it is pretty much the only thing in this bakery not dipped in chocolate.”
Carmen bellowed with laughter. “You do realise you are sitting on Carrer de Petritxol, right? I know you are learning Spanish, but that is Catalan, which is a bit different. It means Chocolate Street.”
“Well that makes perfect sense, then,” said Vanessa, pulling her hair from the ponytail she’d worn for her baking endeavours.
“Although, the obsession with chocolate is not limited to this street,” said Joey. “You’ll see it everywhere across the city. In so many recipes. And of course, there is the classic, churros and melted chocolate. The perfect pick-me-up.”
“You’re cheerful,” said Carmen, her eyes on Joey. Vanessa watched Joey’s face.
“Am I not normally?” Joey frowned.
“Ay, no,” said Carmen. “You are a talented baker and I love you. And you are also rather grumpy at times.” She folded her arms, as if challenging Joey to disagree.
Vanessa’s eyes were wide. She’d never have dreamed of saying anything like that to Joey, who still seemed to have a strong force field around her, marked ‘keep your distance’.
“Hmm,” said Joey, pursing her pink lips, then raising her coffee cup to them.
Since when had Vanessa started noticing Joey’s lips?
To break the tension, and to divert her own imagination, Vanessa changed the subject. “I brought something in to show you both.” She rummaged in her bag to find the old recipe book.
“Oh yes,” exclaimed Carmen. “My grandmother had a copy of this. So many Spanish homes did. It’s one of the most influential original home cook books.”
“So you know it,” said Vanessa, her heart beating faster. Maybe Carmen would know the mystery of the torn-out page.
“I know it very well. Where did you get it from?” Carmen beamed at Vanessa, and took the book gently into her own hands, opening it reverently.
“My grandmother. It belonged to her own grandmother, according to the inscription in the front.” Vanessa thought briefly of Maria, and wondered what she’d have thought of her granddaughter sitting in Barcelona, working in a bakery. She hoped she’d approve. “She died a few weeks ago, and this is what she left to me.”
Joey looked at the book with interest. “Your inheritance.”
“Yes, exactly.” Vanessa took a bite of her duquesa. The pastry was flaky; the apple tart and the chocolate, sweet. It was a perfect mouthful. “My inheritance was that book, and a bit of advice.”
Carmen raised her eyebrows expectantly.
Vanessa chuckled. “That’s between me and my gran.”
“Quite right,” said Joey, her voice soft. Vanessa looked up at her in surprise. “I know you miss her.”
