Page 102 of The Sugar and Spice Bookshop Bakery

‘But you’re always moaning about it, trying to ruin it before it’s properly got started,’ Louise says.

‘Those sheds are an eyesore and I am entitled to make my views known,’ Miss Anderson says stiffly.

‘You’re a bully!’ Years of resentment are bubbling up, and suddenly Louise can’t keep it all inside any longer. ‘Why did you ever become a teacher? Did you even like children? I mean, I loved English. I was good at it. You should have encouraged me. You did the opposite.’

‘Well, really I—’

The floodgates are open now. It’s a clichéd metaphor, Louise thinks, but very apt, because she simply cannot stop the words from pouring out of her. ‘You were a terrible teacher, you know that? I wanted to be a writer and you delighted in squashing my dreams. And I know now that I wouldn’t have made it as a novelist, but I was always destined to work with books. I was a bloody good editor.’ Her voice is rising in both pitch and volume, and that last sentence comes out as a shout. She takes a deep breath, tries to rein herself in. ‘And now I want to run a bookshop,’ she hisses, ‘and you’re so nasty about it. And I still don’t understand why. Why can’t you live and let live?’

‘Hear, hear,’ says a man sitting near the counter.

Miss Anderson silences him with one of her teacher stares, then stands up. She looks for a moment like she’s about to give Louise – and the man too, probably – a detention, but since that’s no longer an option, she picks up her coat and handbag and walks out of the shop, leaving her untouched slice of ginger cake in her wake.

The other GMGs exchange glances, then, one by one, they gather their things and follow her out. Only the PE teacher remains.

The door closes. The bakery is silent.

Then someone starts clapping. Others join in. Louise feels her face flush.

‘Well done, love,’ says the man by the counter. ‘’bout time someone said something.’

Anna appears at her elbow with a glass of water. ‘You okay?’

Louise takes a shaky sip. ‘I think so. God, I can’t believe I just did that.’

‘She deserved it,’ Anna says firmly.

The PE teacher slides Miss Anderson’s abandoned cake in front of herself and takes a bite. Then she notices Louise is watching her and shrugs. Swallowing, she says, ‘Shame to let it go to waste.’

*

That evening, Louise is sitting on the sofa, going through her checklist for the opening, when there are footsteps on the stairs, then a knock at the door.

‘It’s open,’ she calls.

Jack pokes his head inside the door. ‘You busy?’

‘Yeah, but come in. I could do with a break.’

‘Shall I make us some tea?’

‘Thanks, that’d be lovely.’

She puts down her ‘to do’ list, now a mess of ticks and scrawls, and tucks her feet under her, watching Jack as he fills the kettle. ‘I went to see Sheila. You know, the author whose book I messed up. I wanted to apologise in person.’

Jack turns to face her. ‘That must have been a difficult conversation. How did it go?’

‘Surprisingly well, actually. Turns out it all worked out okay. My error might have been a blessing in disguise. Initially the reviews weren’t that great, but people are now saying it’s her best novel so far. It’s such a relief. It’d been preying on my mind.’

‘You look different,’ Jack says. ‘Lighter somehow. Like a great weight has been lifted from your shoulders.’

‘That’s exactly how I feel.’

The kettle clicks off and he takes a teapot from a shelf, warms it with a little of the boiling water, swirls it around, tips it into the sink, then plonks in two bags of Yorkshire tea.

‘I’m impressed,’ Louise says. ‘Warming the pot.’

‘Dad taught me. I make tea like an English person and coffee like an Italian.’