Cosy Nights & Snowball Fights (Little Duck Pond Cafe #36)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

A shocked silence followed. And then everyone was talking at once.

Maddy’s mum and dad looked horrified and were apologising to Annalise over and over, and Maddy rushed over to try and help. I exchanged an anxious glance with Ellie, and I could see she was wondering how to handle it.

And then Annalise – whose understandable initial reaction had been to stare in disbelief at the mess on the floor – totally saved the day by starting to laugh. She swooped into action. ‘Never mind, never mind! We’ll get this cleared up in an instant. And guess what?’ She beamed around at everyone. ‘In true Blue Peter tradition, I actually do have one I made earlier.’

Everyone cheered and Maddy’s mum looked relieved, although her husband was still shaking his head in dismay and gazing down at the chaos he’d caused. ‘I just don’t know what happened. I lost my balance somehow. I can’t believe I just did that.’ He looked at Maddy’s mum in complete bafflement, and she smiled and rushed to reassure him that it was fine and that it could have happened to anyone.

And when Annalise appeared in the doorway with ‘the one she made earlier’, everyone burst into spontaneous applause.

‘Thank you.’ She laughed. ‘I was quite nervous that putting together the croquembouche in front of an audience tonight might not go so well. So I decided to make a substitute, just in case it didn’t go to plan.’

‘You must have known what was going to happen,’ joked Maddy, although I thought her smile looked forced and I knew why. She’d be worried about her dad.

The puddings were all delicious. Later, feeling very full and after wrapping up warmly to brave the chilly night air again, I stood outside the café talking to Maddy, who was waiting for her mum and dad to emerge. A tall man in a thick navy jacket with a cute dog on a lead smiled at Maddy and asked if the evening had gone well.

‘It was brilliant, as usual,’ said Maddy. ‘And here comes the star of the night!’ she added as Annalise came out, a big smile on her face when she clapped eyes on the man and the little dog.

Annalise laughed at Maddy’s description of her. ‘I must have been mad thinking I could carry off making a profiterole tower in front of an audience without any mishaps.’ She winced at the man. ‘It fell over, would you believe. But apart from that, it all went very well!’

He grinned and looped an arm around her. ‘Well, everyone’s emerging with a smile on their face so they obviously enjoyed it.’

‘I guess everyone secretly quite likes a cock-up, really,’ said Maddy. ‘It was definitely entertaining.’

‘Wish I’d been there.’ He looked expectantly at Annalise. ‘Right, ready to go?’

She smiled up at him and rested her head on his shoulder for a moment, at which point the little dog, who’d been sniffing the ground curiously up till now, got up on his hind legs and pushed his nose into her hand.

Annalise laughed softly. ‘It’s nice to see you, too, Barley.’ She bent to stroke his head and scratch behind his ears.

‘That’s Annalise’s boyfriend, Jensen,’ Maddy whispered. ‘They rescued Barley the dog together, adopted him from the animal rescue shelter and now they’re madly in love.’

I chuckled. ‘With Barley?’

‘And with each other.’

‘That’s so cute.’

Annalise turned to Maddy and me. ‘Thanks for coming tonight.’

‘I loved it,’ I told her truthfully. ‘I’m definitely making that Bakewell tart.’

‘Hope the op goes well,’ said Maddy. ‘When’s it happening?’

‘Next week!’

‘Are you nervous?’

‘Not really. It’s going to save Loli’s life so it’s a complete no-brainer as far as I’m concerned.’ She smiled wistfully. ‘Honestly, I can’t wait to see her back on her feet and able to do all the things she used to do, but without getting tired all the time. Mind you, she’s still insisting I don’t have to go through with the transplant if I don’t want to.’ She shook her head affectionately. ‘As if I’d back out now!’

Jensen pulled her close. ‘It’s a fantastic thing you’re doing, you know.’ Pride shone in his eyes as he gazed down at her, and from nowhere, my throat felt suddenly choked. There was such love in his expression...

Annalise brushed off the praise, and then Barley started jumping up, clearly wanting to be a part of the action. She laughed and bent down again and the little dog placed his paws on her shoulders and began licking her face.

‘Barley’s giving you a hug for being brave,’ I said, and everyone chuckled.

Annalise and Jensen said goodbye and wandered off across the green with Barley, and Maddy looked worriedly inside the café. ‘Where on earth are they? I hope Dad’s okay.’

‘Sorry, sorry,’ Maddy’s mum apologised with a smile as they both emerged a few seconds later. ‘We got talking to a lovely couple. Such a great evening!’

‘Except for the tower toppling over.’ Maddy’s dad looked glum.

‘Hey, stop worrying about that,’ chided Maddy. ‘It was an accident. It could have happened to anyone.’

‘And anyway, there’s no harm done,’ her mum reminded him.

‘I suppose.’ He shrugged. ‘Come on, then. It’s too cold to stand around talking.’

His wife laughed. ‘I guess we’re going, then. ‘Bye, girls!’

We watched them walking over to their car.

‘She’s right, you know. It could have happened to anyone,’ I murmured to Maddy, who was looking lost in thought.

‘I guess so.’ Her eyes opened wide with surprise. ‘Crikey, was that a snowflake? Look, there’s another one! And another.’

‘Where?’

‘Look up!’

So I did, staring up into the black night sky. And sure enough, three snowflakes – one after the other – fell swirling from the sky, one of them landing on my face. I felt my cheek. It was definitely wet.

Maddy and I looked at each other in amazement and we both said it at the same time: ‘It’s snowing !’

*****

When I arrived home, after an entrancing drive through the snowy night, I made myself a mug of hot chocolate and stood in the window, still in my coat, watching the swirling flakes falling from the sky.

I shivered, realising just how cold it was in the cottage. I’d been wearing jumpers and using the log burner on the odd night it was really needed, but maybe it was time to accept that winter was almost upon us and put the central heating on.

I went to the thermostat and clicked it on, waiting for the whirring of the boiler starting up. But nothing happened. And after fiddling with the controls for a while, it became increasingly clear that there was going to be no central heating that night. I needed a leaflet with instructions but it wasn’t in the drawer with the rest of the landlady’s information. I’d have to phone her in the morning. And in the meantime, I had no objection whatsoever to using the log-burner!

As I got it going, I thought about the scarf and gloves that would definitely be needed for my journey to work the following day. I didn’t want to be excavating those boxes under my bed in the morning and making myself late for work. Better find them now...

I approached the boxes with my usual apprehension. They contained lots of my previous life and I didn’t want any shocks. Much like a visit to the dentist, I just wanted to get in, do the necessary and get out again.

I found my favourite snuggly pink scarf and matching gloves almost immediately, and I was closing the box again with a certain amount of relief, when I saw something lying on the floor just out of reach. It looked like a sheet of crumpled newspaper. Had I used newspaper to wrap precious objects for the move here? But I dismissed that immediately. I’d moved in such a hurry in the end – desperate to be away – that I’d basically just thrown things into boxes and hoped for the best!

Instantly, my mind travelled back to that terrible day in late February when I’d known beyond a doubt that I couldn’t stay a single day longer in Compton Meadows than I had to.

After my world had shattered into a million pieces just before Christmas, my parents had tiptoed around me, knowing how devastated I was that Gavin had cheated on me and the engagement was off, and Mum kept trying to persuade me to get out of the house and get some fresh air. Staying in my bedroom all the time wasn’t good for me, she said. So at last, on a dazzlingly bright February day, with the sun glinting off the snow that had fallen overnight, I’d decided it was time to dig out my winter coat again and go out – just to the local shops with Mum.

It was going well. The unexpected snowfall made us a little giggly, and as we were going into the bakery, I’d had to grab Mum’s arm to stop myself slipping on an icy patch and landing on my butt. I was still laughing as we came out. But that’s when I saw them.

Gavin and Jo.

They were walking along the high street towards me, their heads together, so deep in conversation that they hadn’t even noticed me. I’d stopped replying to their texts ages ago. Gavin had come to the door a few times after it all kicked off, presumably to apologise, but I’d hidden in my bedroom and my parents had sent him packing. I hadn’t heard a single word from Jo.

But now there they were, walking along the street as bold as brass. They weren’t the ones who’d been hiding away from the world for fear of who they might run into. It was clear that life had just carried on seamlessly for them. They were an all too painful reminder of why this village – the place I’d grown up – no longer felt like a home to me.

Mum had seen my face. I must have turned white with shock. And then I saw the situation dawn on her own face. She looked at me, hesitating for a moment, obviously trying to judge if I was up to what would be a very awkward confrontation, while I remained frozen to the spot. Grabbing my arm, she pulled me away, back into the shop. My shoulders had sagged as I leaned against her, and through the glass in the door, we’d watched the pair walk right past the bakery. Later, as I stood in the kitchen making hot chocolate, my mind still fixed on the past, I’d been so distracted, I’d burned the milk and thrown the pan into the sink in utter frustration.

That was the night I’d decided I needed to get away.

Not too far, because I’d miss Mum and Dad too much if I couldn’t see them regularly. I’d been offered a job at the local beauty salon but I’d had to turn it down. So I started looking for work within a reasonable distance, and the barista vacancy in Sunnybrook was one of the first jobs I saw. With no experience at all – I didn’t know one end of a fancy coffee machine from the other – I knew it was unlikely I’d be successful. So no one was more surprised than I was when Ellie herself phoned to offer me the job. I’d heard on the news that the catering industry was suffering from a shortage of applicants, and I wondered afterwards if that was why I was taken on. Perhaps I’d been the only person to apply? But I’d since found out that there’d actually been a dozen applicants, some more qualified than I was, but that Ellie had felt I would fit into the team best of all of them. I suppose my doubts were just a reflection of how down on myself I was in the wake of the betrayal, thinking that it had all been my fault somehow.

Now, leaning my arm right under the bed, I grasped for the crumpled sheet of newsprint that was lying there. Then I sat on the bed and smoothed it out, and my heart lurched when I saw the headline.

Girl, 10, in Heroic Blaze Rescue.