Christmas At The Cupcake Cafe (37 page)

BOOK: Christmas At The Cupcake Cafe
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‘Anyway,’ he
said, handing over a package. ‘It’s not the garage, right. It’s what I could afford. Properly.’

‘Come in,’ said Pearl. She deleted, quickly, the message on her phone. ‘Come on in.’

Everyone greeted him cheerily, and Caroline immediately handed him a glass. Louis jumped up, his grin so wide he looked like he could burst.

‘SANTA BROUGHT ME A MONSTER GARAGE,’ he said.

‘And I brought you this,’ said Ben.

Louis ripped the package open. Inside was a pair of pyjamas, covered in monster garage characters. They were fluffy and warm and the right size and exactly what Louis actually needed.

‘MONSTER GARAGE JAMAS!’ said Louis. He started pulling off his clothes. Pearl thought about stopping him – he was wearing a lovely smart shirt and a new pullover – but at the last minute decided against it.

‘Merry Christmas,’ she said to the room, raising her glass.

‘Merry Christmas,’ said everyone back.

After that, it was a present free-for-all. Caroline did her best not to wrinkle her nose at the tasteless candles and knick-knacks that headed her way. Chadani Imelda managed to eat an entire rosette. Louis didn’t look up from his garage. Issy, hanging back near the kitchen, noticed that she didn’t get any presents, but didn’t think much of it.

They had lined up all
the tables in a row to make one long table with space for everyone, and Ashok’s sisters jostled Issy for space in the kitchen, chatting and laughing and sharing jokes and handing out crackers, and Issy felt herself coasting along and letting the shared comfort of happiness and ease carry her with it. Chester from the ironmonger’s shop was there, of course, and Mrs Hanowitz, whose children lived in Australia, and all in all they were a very long table by the time they sat down to eat, slightly drunk, carols playing loudly in the background.

The meal was magnificent. Bhajis and ginger beet curry nestled next to the perfectly cooked turkey, acres of chipolatas and the crunchiest roast potatoes, all delicious. Everyone ate and drank themselves to bursting, except Issy, who didn’t feel like it, and Caroline, who couldn’t, but did her best with the red cabbage.

At the end of the meal, Ashok stood up.

‘Now, I just want to say a few words,’ he said, swaying a little bit. ‘First of all, thank you to Issy for throwing open her shop – her home – for all of us waifs and strays at Christmas time.’

At this there was much stamping of feet and cheering.

‘That was a wonderful meal – thanks to everyone who contributed …’

‘Hear hear,’ said Caroline.

‘… and Caroline.’

There was a great deal
of laughter and banging of forks.

‘OK, I have two orders of business. Firstly, Issy, you may have noticed that you didn’t get any Christmas presents?’

Issy shrugged, to say it didn’t matter.

‘Well, aha! That is not the case!’ said Ashok. He lifted up an envelope. ‘Here is a small token of our esteem. Of all of our esteem. Oh, and we’ve hired Maya back.’

‘Who’s Maya?’ Ben asked Pearl. His large hand was squeezing her thigh under the table.

‘No one,’ said Pearl quickly.

Issy, her hands shaking, opened the envelope. Inside was a return ticket to New York.

‘Everyone put in,’ said Ashok. ‘Because …’

‘Because you’re an idiot!’ hooted Caroline. ‘And you can’t borrow my coat again.’

Issy looked at Helena, eyes glistening.

‘But I’ve been … I tried …’

‘Well, you try again, you bloody idiot,’ said Helena. ‘Are you nuts? I bet he is totally bloody miserable. Your mum said he is.’

‘I like the way everyone gets to chat with my mum except me,’ said Issy. She glanced down at the date on the ticket.

‘You have to be joking.’

‘Nope,’ said Caroline. ‘Cheapest date to fly. And no time like the present; we’ve got Maya all of next week.’

‘I can’t even get to the airport.’

‘Fortunately I
treated a cabbie with renal failure,’ said Ashok. ‘He asked if there was anything he could do. I said could he drive my friend to Heathrow on Christmas Day. He sighed a lot and looked really grumpy, but he’s on his way over.’

‘And I packed for you!’ said Helena. ‘Proper clothes this time you’ll be pleased to hear.’

Issy didn’t know where to look. Her hand flickered to her mouth, shaking.

‘Come on,’ said Helena. ‘Do you really have anything to lose?’

Issy bit her lip. Her pride? Her self-respect? Well, maybe they didn’t mean so much. But she had to know. She had to know.

‘Th … th … thanks,’ she stammered. ‘Thank you. Thank you so much.’

‘I’ll make you up a sandwich for the plane,’ said Pearl. ‘It’s not business class this time.’

Caroline had managed to convince Pearl, when she realised how much Pearl needed the money, that the amount everyone was putting in the pot for the ticket was ten pounds. Pearl had only the fuzziest idea of how much flights cost and had chosen to believe her.

There came a honking outside.

‘That’s your cab,’ said Ashok.

Helena handed her her bag and her passport. Issy had no words. They hugged, then Pearl joined in, then Caroline too, and they were all one big ball.

‘Do it,’ said
Helena. ‘Or sort it. Or whatever. OK?’

Issy swallowed. ‘OK,’ she said. ‘OK.’

And the table watched her go out into the snow.

‘Now,’ said Ashok, swallowing very hard, and taking out a small jeweller’s box from his pocket. ‘Ahem. I have another order of business.’

But there was a cry from Caroline. Coming out of the snow was the tiny figure of Donald, and directly behind him, chasing after him, were Hermia and Achilles. The baby headed straight for the Cupcake Café and everyone crowded round to welcome him.

‘He ran away!’ said Hermia.

‘We ran away too,’ said Achilles. ‘It’s really boring in there.’

Pearl winked at Caroline.

‘Well, I’ll put on some hot chocolate and then you’re heading straight back,’ Caroline said.

Caroline called Richard and he agreed that they could stay for afternoon games. Then there was a pause. ‘Actually, could we all come over?’ said Richard. ‘It’s dead boring here.’

Caroline thought.

‘No,’ she said, but not unkindly. ‘It isn’t my home to invite you. But we’ll speak soon.’

Pearl, stacking the big dishwasher downstairs, wrote a text and deleted it, and wrote another and deleted it again. Then, finally, she texted the simple words, ‘Thank you. Merry Christmas’ and sent it to Doti. What else was there to say?

‘What are you doing
down there?’ came Ben’s deep voice.

‘Nothing!’ said Pearl.

‘Good,’ said Ben. ‘Because I have an idea of a few things we could do.’

Pearl giggled and told him off, and felt the touch of his warm hand on her face and thought after that simply, Merry Christmas. Merry Christmas.

Chapter Nineteen

Galette de Rois, the Cake of the New Year

30g almond
paste

30g white sugar

3 tbsp unsalted butter, softened

1 egg

¼ tsp vanilla extract

¼ tsp almond extract

2 tbsp all-purpose flour

1 pinch salt

1 packet of puff pastry

1 egg, beaten

one favour (traditionally a small china – not plastic! – figurine)

icing sugar for dusting

one gold party hat

Preheat oven to 220°C/gas mark 7; line baking sheet with baking paper.

Blend almond paste in the
food processor with half the sugar, then add the butter and the rest of the sugar, then the egg, vanilla and almond extracts, then flour and salt.

Roll out one sheet of the puff pastry, about 20cm square. Keep the pastry cool; do not knead or stretch. Cut a large circle. Repeat and chill the circles.

Mound the almond filling on to the centre of one of the pastry circles on the baking sheet. Leave a large margin. Press the figurine down into the filling. Place the second sheet of pastry on top, and seal edges.

Egg-wash the top of the pastry and add slits (artistically if you like).

Bake for 15 minutes in the preheated oven. Do not open the oven until the time is up, as the pastry will not fully puff. Remove from the oven and dust with icing sugar. Return to the oven and cook for an additional 12–15 minutes, or until the top is a deep golden brown. Transfer to a wire rack to cool. Crown with gold party hat. Give gold party hat to whoever gets the favour (or Louis).

Austin turned up at
Marian’s with a bottle of kirsch, even though he wasn’t quite sure why. He instantly felt a bit strange, being the only man there without a beard, but everyone seemed very nice – there were about four families, and dumplings were boiling on top of the stove. There were no decorations up, of course, no cards, no television; nothing to indicate that this wasn’t just another day. Which of course it was. To everyone else.

Darny was happily sitting chatting to one of the old men in the sitting room over a small, sticky-looking coffee.

‘We’re discussing the nature of evil,’ said Darny. ‘It’s great.’

‘Is that coffee?’ said Austin. ‘Great. That’s all you need.’

He popped his head round the door. ‘Hi, Maria … Miriam. Do you need a hand?’

BOOK: Christmas At The Cupcake Cafe
13.33Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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