Page 28 of The Sugar and Spice Bookshop Bakery

‘Can’t you just say no?’

‘I suppose I could. It’s kind of awkward. Most of them know me from childhood. And I wonder if Mum’s putting them up to it.’

‘Ah! Perhaps she’s guilt-tripping you!’

‘Maybe. She might be hoping I’ll realise how much everyone loves the bakery, then I’ll forget the bookshop idea. And it’s kind of working. I enjoy baking. I love the looks on people’s faces when they taste what I’ve made. But do I want to do it forever? No. Oh, here we go.’ Louise rolls her eyes at Maddie as the door opens, and four older women come in, shaking their brollies before folding them down. Louise recognises two of them as friends of her mother.

‘Didn’t there used to be an umbrella stand here?’ one of them says.

‘Yeah, maybe, I dunno.’

‘You need to get another umbrella stand, Louise. It rains a lot round here,’ one of the others says, beaming.

Louise gawps at them, speechless.

‘Send them away,’ Maddie hisses.

‘I can’t,’ Louise whispers back. ‘They’re Mum’s friends.’

‘Let’s sit in the window,’ the taller of her mother’s friends is saying. ‘Watch the world go by.’

Louise grabs her laptop from the table as they sit down.

‘Two cappuccinos, two teas, and we’ll share two slices of your granny’s ginger cake please, but make them large slices,’ one of the others says.

‘Make them large slices,’ Maddie mouths. ‘What the actual…?’

‘Don’t.’ Louise holds her hands up. ‘Just don’t. Help me with this, would you please? Put the kettle on for the tea? And cut some ginger cake.’

When she arrives at the table a few minutes later, her tray laden with two steaming mugs of coffee, a teapot and two enormous wedges of ginger cake, the women are all engrossed in some kind of card game.

‘You know, we’re not really open yet,’ Louise says, as she places a tray down on the table. She fixes a bright smile on her face. ‘And in fact, I’m not planning to run the place as a bakery, but as a bookshop.’

‘What was that, dear?’ says one of the women, placing the jack of hearts on the table.

‘I said, I’m not planning on… Oh, never mind. Enjoy your game. And your ginger cake.’

The door opens again. This time it’s a young mother with a pushchair and an elderly gentleman with a walking stick.

‘Morning, Lou!’ the woman calls cheerfully. ‘Could we get a latte, an americano with hot milk and one of those gorgeous scones? And maybe a babycino for little Emma here?’

‘A babycino?’ Louise repeats.

‘Yes, it’s a—’

‘Sure. I know what it is.’

‘Oh, and Harold here was wondering if you sell those fat rascals. He’s been raving about the ones from that place in Harrogate, haven’t you, Harold?’

Harold nods enthusiastically. ‘Aye, love. Been dreaming about them all week.’

‘Sorry, no rascals,’ says Louise. ‘Fat or otherwise. No scones either. I’ve ginger cake. That’s all.’

‘You haven’t actually, Lou,’ Maddie pipes up. ‘The Applethwaite bridge team had the last of it.’

‘Sorry, drinks only, I’m afraid,’ Louise says.

‘No cakes?’ the young woman says. ‘Some bakery this is!’