Page 64 of The Little Board Game Café

Making the makowiec meant making yet another dough, a rich buttery dough this time. Under Mr B’s watchful eye, Emily covered it with a mixture of poppy seeds, chopped fruit, nuts and honey, before rolling it up like a roulade.

‘Most people just fill it with poppy seeds,’ Mr B told her, ‘but I like this recipe better, and hopefully Ludek will too.’

*

She’d mastered the dishes – well, sort of – but there was still one part of Marjory’s masterplan that she hadn’t put into action: she hadn’t actually invited Ludek to dinner.

She’d barely heard from him since she and Peter had returned from their trip to the farm shop. No probs, was all he’d replied when she’d texted to say that the board games group couldn’t meet at The Lancashire Hotpot for two weeks. And then, when she’d gone to the board games group to tell everyone about her plans for the café and invite them all to the launch event, Ludek hadn’t been there. ‘I think he’s working late,’ was all Alan had said.

When Emily arrived home from Mr B’s house, she texted him. Haven’t seen you in ages. Fancy dinner at mine tomorrow evening?

His reply came quickly. Sure, that’d be good. About seven?

Fingers crossed, the plan was going to work.

She imagined how the evening would go. She’d have the desserts prepared, and the pierogi for the main course would need frying when Ludek arrived. She’d thank Ludek for the Masala game, and he’d say how he’d been embarrassed to intrude upon her and Peter and she would say, ‘There is no me and Peter. He kissed me, but he shouldn’t have. Peter and I are over, Ludek.’ And then she’d fry the pierogi and he’d say how much it reminded him of his mother’s cooking and how much he missed her. At that point, Emily would take his hand and say maybe they could visit Poland together one day. Then she’d serve the pączki and makowiec, and he’d say they were delicious, even more than the pierogi, but he wouldn’t fall in love with her – not just yet; even in her daydreams Emily tried to be a realist – and then she’d explain about having no games for the café’s launch and he’d say she could borrow his games.

‘Keep them for as long as you like,’ she imagined him saying. ‘After all, they’re meant to be played.’

And perhaps, before he left, they’d share their first kiss. Just a small one. A soft kiss. The kind of gentle, teasing kiss that leaves you longing for more.

Only it didn’t quite work out like that.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Books by Emily’s Kate’s spare bedside: A Guide to Modern Polish Cuisine; Authentic Recipes from Poland; and Perfect Pierogi.

Emily took out every garment from her wardrobe, but none of them looked quite right. Her favourite dungaree pinafore – the bright-red one – seemed a bit garish somehow and the smartest one – the navy – seemed dull. She could wear jeans, but all of her jeans were tight and wearing tight clothes when she was about to eat a carb-laden meal didn’t seem like a wise move.

She took out every garment from Kate’s wardrobe too. Pointless really as she knew they were all too small, and she didn’t want to tear another seam. Kate was being incredibly kind and tolerant letting her stay there rent-free for so long whilst she established the café; she didn’t want to test her friend’s patience by borrowing – and ruining – her clothes.

She settled on the jeans in the end, with a long t-shirt so that she could discreetly unfasten the top button should she need to after they’d eaten.

Make-up. Should she wear make-up?

She never usually wore much. She didn’t have Kate’s skill at applying it for a start, so always claimed she preferred the natural look. But peering in the mirror, she realised she did look a little bit pasty and were those bags under her eyes? The stress and hard work of running her own business was definitely taking its toll on her appearance. Emily found her make-up bag and rummaged around, wondering what to use. The foundation was dried up, the mascara was lumpy and the green eye-shadow was just that little bit too green, Emily decided, if she wanted to keep things subtle. She sighed and wandered back into Kate’s room.

Kate had a whole drawer full of cosmetics, so many that Emily didn’t know where to start. She picked out a foundation and rubbed a bit on her cheeks with her fingertips, but Kate’s complexion was darker than Emily’s and she just looked ridiculous. As if she’d a bad fake tan. Emily borrowed some of Kate’s make-up remover and scrubbed it off.

Au naturel. That was the look she’d go for. It wasn’t as if this was a blind date. He’d already seen her at her worst, sprawled on the pavement outside Nico’s. Then sitting in his surgery holding her hand in the air like a muppet. Emily grimaced. Yet still he’d seemed to like her. Or at least, he had. Till he’d seen her with Peter.

She looked at her watch. She needed to get on with the food. She’d left the dough for the pączki and the makowiec to rise a couple of hours earlier, but she needed to get on with making the dough and the filling for the pierogi.

With Mr B’s help, making the three items hadn’t seemed that difficult. A little time-consuming, perhaps, but Emily was confident she had enough time to get everything done. Without Mr B’s help, it was a different matter.

The dough for the desserts hadn’t risen. Emily couldn’t fathom why; she was sure the yeast had been in date. Maybe the house wasn’t quite warm enough. There wasn’t time to start again; she’d just have to raid Kate’s freezer for some ice-cream if Ludek had room for a pudding.

She had more success with the dough for the pierogi. She rolled it out, cut it into circles and added a generous teaspoon of filling to each. Then she folded the circles over and pinched the edges to seal the filling inside. Mr B had made this look easy, but it was incredibly fiddly and Emily was still finishing the last few when the doorbell rang.

Ludek was standing on the doorstep, looking even more beautiful than he usually looked; his hair curlier and his mouth more smiley. He was wearing beige chinos and a crisp white shirt. Emily looked down at her jeans, wishing she’d opted for a pinafore, and saw to her horror that her blue t-shirt was covered in flour. She must have inadvertently wiped her hands on it when she was cooking. Why hadn’t she worn an apron? She always wore an apron in the café.

Ludek followed her gaze. ‘What are you cooking?’

‘It’s a surprise.’

Emily led him through the hall and into the lounge.

‘Wow, this is tidy,’ he said.