Page 14 of The Sugar and Spice Bookshop Bakery

Funny that.

With hindsight, her mother had said yes a bit too readily to the bookshop idea. Is this some last-ditch attempt to persuade her to change her mind? Perhaps Elizabeth is hoping that her daughter will love the coffee morning so much that she’ll decide she wants to run a bakery after all.

‘Here you go, ladies,’ Louise says, pasting a smile on her face. ‘One pot of tea for four and two lattes. Mum, can you pour? I’m going to tidy up in the kitchen.’

‘Thank you, darling.’ Elizabeth smiles. ‘This all looks lovely.’

‘Is there any other sort of cake? Or a biscuit perhaps?’ Janet has always been the most vocal of her mother’s friends. ‘Not that I’m not partial to your gran’s ginger cake, but a choice is always nice.’

‘Didn’t you make scones, darling? Shall I fetch them?’ Elizabeth is already on her feet.

‘Don’t worry, Mum, I’ll get them,’ Louise says. ‘You stay and chat.’

Elizabeth sits back down again.

‘We’ll be wanting to come here every day,’ one of the others says. Louise can’t for the life of her remember this woman’s name. Hazel? Or Heather? No, Hazel is the one with curly hair and Heather’s wearing the hand-knitted green jumper. And the tall, willowy one is Magda. But the fifth woman’s name continues to escape her.

‘I don’t think so,’ Louise says, keeping her tone deliberately light. ‘I’m sure Mum’s explained already – I’m not reopening the bakery.’ She can’t look at her mother as she says this, but out of the corner of her eye she sees the woman whose name she can’t recall exchange a sympathetic look with her mum, and Hazel reaches over and pats Elizabeth’s hand.

‘So, Louise, what has brought you home to Applethwaite if you’re not here for the bakery?’ Janet asks.

Louise isn’t sure how to answer. She hasn’t even told her mother all the details of what happened with Sheila Penhaligon’s book, and she certainly isn’t about to tell Janet. She can’t even bear to think about it. The terrible error and subsequent walking out, leaving her colleagues to pick up the pieces. And to absorb her workload, she imagines. She hadn’t just let Sheila down, but her workmates too.

‘I, er… I just needed a break,’ she says vaguely.

‘Are you still editing?’ Hazel asks.

‘Oh, you know…’ Louise waves her hands around, scrabbling around in her mind for a way of changing the subject.

‘I’ve always wanted to write a book,’ Magda pipes up. ‘About my grandmother’s experiences in the Second World War. I’ve written some of her stories down. Perhaps you could take a look?’

Louise sighs. Her mother really does have the most persistent friends. She makes some non-committal noises about memoir not really being her area and then retreats to the kitchen.

She cleans the cake mixer. Wipes down the work surfaces. Washes her cake tins. Scrubs down the work surfaces again.

Then she positions herself by the serving hatch, just out of sight, hoping to catch snatches of the conversation her mother is having, wondering if there’ll be any mention of the bookshop idea.

‘I think she’ll come round,’ Hazel is saying. ‘You just need to give her some time.’

‘She’s only just got here,’ Magda says. ‘Has she said anymore about what went wrong?’

‘Not really. I still don’t feel I have the full story,’ Elizabeth says.

‘Any more tea, Louise dear?’ Janet calls out.

Damn, she’s been spotted.

Louise makes a fresh pot and is carrying it over to their table when the door opens and Jack comes in. He sees the group of women with their tea and cakes and gives Louise a puzzled look.

‘Hi,’ he says. ‘Is the bakery open? Did you change your mind?’

‘No, I—’ Louise shakes her head.

She plonks the teapot down in front of Janet. Some of the tea sloshes up out of the spout.

Louise wipes her hands on her apron, feeling somehow that Jack has caught her out. It certainly looks like she’s caved into parental pressure and is running the bakery after all.

She gestures at the table of women. ‘They’re friends, not customers,’ she says, aware that her tone sounds defensive. ‘Oh, and this is my mum.’