Meet Me at the Cupcake Café (36 page)

‘Thanks,’ Pearl said, grudgingly.

‘That’s all right,’ said Caroline. ‘Are you catching a cab home?’

Pearl grimaced. ‘Cabs don’t go where I live.’

‘Oh really?’ said Caroline. ‘Are you out in the country? How lovely.’

Issy ushered Caroline out before she could get herself in more trouble, and asked her to start off by covering a good lunch hour for Pearl and herself, before increasing her hours, all going well, to make them all happy.

‘Absolutely,’ said Caroline. ‘I’m going to order my book group to start meeting here. And my Stitch ’n’ Bitch. And my Jamie at Home Tupperware party. And my rotary club. And my Italian Renaissance art evening class.’

Issy hugged her. ‘Have you been terribly lonely?’

‘Dreadfully so.’

‘I hope you start to feel better.’

‘Thank you.’ And Caroline accepted the large bag of cakes Issy pressed on her.

‘Don’t give me that look,’ said Issy to Pearl, even though Pearl was standing behind her. ‘You are
mostly
right, I’ll give you that. That’s not the same thing as
always
right.’

The next morning was glorious; the entire city felt like it had dressed in green for a wedding day. Pearl and Issy inched across town in a cab, terrified their confection would wobble apart, but it held firm. They arranged it as the centrepiece of a huge table covered in pink stars and balloons.

Linda and Leanne came running up to meet them. When the bride, young and pink in her strapless dress, caught sight of the hundreds of delicately snow-iced soft pastel cupcakes, her mouth dropped open, showing newly whitened teeth.

‘Oh,’ she said. ‘It’s so beautiful! It’s so beautiful! I love it! I love it! Thank you! Thank you so much!’ And she hugged them both.

‘Leanne!’ hollered Linda. ‘I can’t believe we’re going to have to do your eye make-up again. We’re paying this makeup artist by the hour, you know.’

Leanne dabbed frantically under her eyes.

‘Sorry, sorry, I’ve done nothing but burst into tears for about four hours. Everything is, argh, just so crazy. But you guys … you have totally saved my wedding.’

A woman rushed into the assembly room and started fiddling about with Leanne’s hair.

‘The car’s on its way,’ said somebody else. ‘Wedding minus forty-five.’

Leanne’s mouth opened in a paroxysm of panic. ‘
Oh my Gawd
,’ she yelled. ‘
Oh my Gawd
.’ She clasped Pearl and Issy. ‘Will you stay? Please? Stay.’

‘We would love to,’ said Issy, ‘but—’

‘I have to get back to my boy,’ said Pearl firmly. ‘But the best of luck to you.’

‘You are going to have a
wonderful
day,’ Issy added, pressing a pile of business cards on the table next to the cake.

And Linda threw her arms around them both. Then they emerged at the top of the steps, out into a beautiful London day with pigeons sunning themselves on the pavement, and people passing on their way to coffees and markets and to buy cloth for saris and meat for barbecues and beer for football and goat’s cheese for dinner parties, and papers for the park, and ice creams for children. Already Leanne’s friends were gathering on the steps, young and gorgeous, with carefully set hair and bright dresses like peacocks; high strappy sandals and bare shoulders, a little ambitious for a May wedding. They were squealing in excitement and complimenting each other on their outfits and playing nervously with small bags and cigarettes and confetti.

Always the caterer, never the bride, thought Issy to herself, a tad ruefully.

‘Well, enough of that,’ said Pearl cheerfully, whipping off her apron. ‘I’m off to give my boy a cuddle and tell him he might be able to see his mother occasionally from now on, now the Wicked Witch of the West has started work.’

‘Stop it!’ said Issy teasingly. ‘She’s going to be fine. Now, scoot.’

Pearl kissed her on the cheek.

‘Go home and get some rest,’ she said.

But Issy didn’t much feel like getting some rest; it was a gorgeous afternoon, and she felt antsy and unsettled. She was considering hopping on a bus at random and going for a wander, when she spotted a familiar figure at the bus stop. He was bent over, fiddling with the laces of a small skinny boy with sticky-up auburn hair and a cross look on his face.

‘But I
want
them like this,’ the boy was saying.

‘Well, they’re impossible knots that you keep tripping over!’ The man sounded exasperated.

‘That’s how I
want
them.’

‘Well, at least try and trip over a paving stone and then we can sue the council.’

Austin straightened up, and was so surprised to see Issy there, he nearly stepped backwards into the road.

‘Oh, hello,’ he said.

‘Hello.’ Issy tried to make sure she didn’t go red. ‘Uh, hi.’

‘Hi,’ said Austin. There was a pause.

‘Who are you?’ said the small boy, rudely.

‘Hello. Well, I’m Issy,’ said Issy. ‘Who are you?’

‘Duh. I’m Darny,’ said Darny. ‘Are you going to be one of Austin’s drippy girlfriends?’

‘Darny!’ said Austin in a warning tone.

‘Are you going to come round at night and cook horrible suppers and use a silly voice and say, “Oh, so
tragic
for Darny to lose his mummy and daddy, let me look after you”, kissy kissy kissy smooch smooch yawn stop telling me when to go to bed?’

Austin wanted the ground to open and swallow him up. Although Issy didn’t look offended; rather, she looked like she was about to laugh.

‘Is that what they do?’ she asked. Darny nodded, mutinously. ‘That
does
sound boring. No, I’m nothing like that. I work with your dad and I live up this road here, that’s all.’

‘Oh,’ said Darny.

‘I guess that’s all right.’

‘I guess so too.’ She smiled at Austin. ‘Are you well?’

‘I will be once I have this ten-year-old surgically removed.’

‘Hahaha,’ said Darny. ‘That wasn’t me really laughing,’ he said to Issy. ‘I was pretending to laugh and being sarcastic.’

‘Oh,’ said Issy. ‘Sometimes I do that too.’

‘Where are you off to?’ asked Austin.

‘In fact I’ve been working all night, you’ll be pleased to hear,’ she said. ‘Catering for a wedding at a nearby town hall.
And
I’ve taken on a new member of staff. She’s great … slightly evil, but on the whole …’

‘Oh, that’s terrific,’ said Austin, and his face broke into a large smile. He was genuinely, truly happy for her, Issy realized. Not just from the bank’s point of view, but personally.

‘No, where are you going
now
?’ said Darny. ‘That’s what he asked you. Because we’re going to the aquarium. Would you like to come?’

Austin raised his eyebrows. This was totally unprecedented. Darny made a point of disliking all grown-ups and being rude to them to forestall their mooning all over him. To spontaneously invite someone somewhere was unheard of.

‘Well,’ said Issy, ‘I was thinking of going home to bed.’

‘While it’s
light
?’ said Darny. ‘Is someone making you?’

‘In fact, no,’ said Issy.

‘OK,’ said Darny. ‘Come with us.’

Issy glanced at Austin.

‘Oh, I probably should …’

Austin knew it wasn’t professional. She probably wouldn’t even want to. But, he couldn’t help it. He liked her. He was going to ask her. And that was that.

‘Come,’ he said. ‘I’ll buy you a frappucino.’

‘Bribery,’ said Issy, smiling. ‘That’s what’ll get me to spend my Saturday looking at fish.’

And at that moment the bus rounded the corner and, after a second, all three of them got on it.

The aquarium was quiet – the first lovely sunny day of the year had prompted most people out of doors – and Darny was utterly transfixed by the tanks of fish; little quicksilver shoals, or huge great coelacanths that looked left over from the age of the dinosaurs. Austin and Issy talked; quietly, because the dark, warm underground environment seemed to encourage a quiet tone of voice; small revelations; and it was easier, somehow, to talk in the half-light, barely able to see one another except for the outline of Issy’s curls backlit by jellyfish, pink and luminous, or the tankful of phosphorescence that shimmered and reflected in Austin’s glasses.

Issy found the worries and cares of the café, which had lain on her relentlessly for months, it felt, somehow get soothed away in the strange underwater tranquillity, as Austin made her laugh with stories about Darny at school or touched on, without a trace of self-pity, how hard it was to be a single parent who wasn’t even a parent. And in return, Issy found herself talking about her own mother – normally when she spoke of her family, she talked about how amazing her grandfather was, and how they’d all lived together, and made it sound cosy. But talking to someone who knew how it felt to lose a parent, absolutely and irrevocably, made it easier somehow to talk about how her mother had danced in and out of her life, trying to make herself happy but not succeeding in making anyone happy.

‘Were your parents happy?’ she asked.

Austin thought about it. ‘You know, I never considered it. Your parents are just your parents, aren’t they? It never even occurs to you till you grow up, whatever they’re like, that they aren’t completely normal. But yes, I think they were. I used to see them touch all the time, and they were close, always physically close, holding hands, close to one another on the sofa.’

Without thinking, Issy glanced down at her own hand. It was silhouetted in front of a gently glowing tank filled with darting eels, not far from Austin’s. It crossed her mind: how would it feel if she was to take his hand then and there? Would he pull away? She could almost feel her fingers tingle in anticipation.

‘And of course, there was the fact of them being completely and utterly ancient and having another baby when all their friends were becoming grandparents. So, you know, something must have gone all right. Of course at the time I thought it was totally disgusting …’

Issy smiled. ‘I bet you didn’t really. I bet you loved him from the get go.’

Austin glanced over at Darny, whose eyes were wide; his gaze following the shark around its tank, completely hypnotized.

‘Of course I did,’ mumbled Austin, and turned away slightly, his hand moving further from Issy’s, who felt embarrassed suddenly, like she’d gone a little too far.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean to be so personal.’

‘It’s not that,’ said Austin, his voice a little muffled. ‘It’s just … I would have liked to know them, you know? As a grown-up, not an overgrown teenager.’

‘You’re making me want to go phone my mum,’ said Issy.

‘You should,’ said Austin.

Now it was Issy’s turn to glance away.

‘She’s changed her number,’ she said quietly.

And almost without realizing he was doing it, Austin put out his hand to take hers, at first in a gentle squeeze, but then suddenly he didn’t want to put it down.

‘
Ice cream!
’ came a very loud voice from below them. Immediately they dropped each other’s hand. It was too dark down here, Issy found herself thinking. Like a nightclub.

‘I spoke to the shark,’ said Darny importantly to his brother. ‘He said that I would make a very good marine biologist and also that it would be OK for me to have some ice cream now. In fact he thought it was quite important. That I got some ice cream. Now.’