The Little Bakery of Hopes and Dreams. Kellie Hailes

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ a killjoy.

      Besides, if she threw herself into her job and convinced Callan to let her help out more in the baking department, then there was the chance she’d get through the season without noticing anything festive at all.

      Head down. Bum up. That was the way to handle the oncoming tsunami of tinsel.

      ‘Mia, what did I say about waiting for me?’ Callan’s disapproving tone didn’t match the Santa hat perched jauntily on his head. Or the long ribbon of red and white tinsel that was draped around his neck scarf-style. ‘Mia? Are you listening to me at all?’ He unwrapped the tinsel scarf and the green and navy-blue tartan scarf hidden beneath it, then shrugged off his long black woollen coat and hung it up on the wooden coat stand that was positioned beside the back door.

      Josie tried not to laugh as she took in the jumper he was wearing. Gone was the simple grey knitted jersey he’d left in, replaced by a multi-coloured sweater in red, green and white, featuring a reindeer with bells on its antlers. Underneath it the words ‘jingle all the bells’ were emblazoned in jaunty script.

      ‘Nice top.’ She kept her tone even as she measured the dry ingredients into the sifter, then began jiggling it back and forth, letting the flour and baking powder fall through in a snow-like flurry.

      ‘When 4-year-olds attack.’

      She could see Callan rolling his eyes out of the corner of her eye.

      ‘Once Mia saw it, I wasn’t getting out of the store alive until I forked out the money.’

      Picking up a spatula, Josie began to fold the ingredients in with a figure-of-eight motion. ‘I think you made the right decision. A Christmas jumper’s not worth dying over.’ She bit her lip as heat raced over her face and down her neck. Good one, Josie, way to stick your foot right in your mouth. ‘God, I’m sorry. So sorry. Ignore that last bit. I didn’t … I wasn’t … Clearly I need to engage my brain before speaking.’

      Callan shrugged her apology off. ‘Don’t worry about it. I started it with the talk of getting out alive, and I can’t have you second-guessing everything you’re about to say in case you hurt my feelings. To be honest, there’s nothing you can say or do that could. I think my pain quota is filled.’

      Josie racked her brain to find something appropriately soothing to say. What did you say to a man who’d lost the love of his life? Nothing had soothed her father’s pain, even though the circumstances were entirely different. A devoted mother and loving wife passing away was a million miles away from a wife upping and leaving to go ‘find herself’ overseas, only to never return.

      ‘So, you managed to get everything you needed?’ Josie spooned the smooth batter into a greased and lined cake tin. ‘Did Mia leave anything for anyone else to buy?’

      Callan stepped forward and inspected Josie’s handiwork. ‘I don’t recall asking you to make another cake. Just the fruitcake.’

      There was no reproach in the tone, but Josie had the distinct feeling he was put out. That she was treading on his territory.

      ‘Oh, I had a bit of time on my hands. And I do love making lemon drizzle cake. It doesn’t have to be for the shop. I could pay you for the ingredients I used, and you and Mia could take it upstairs and have it for afternoon tea, if you’d like. Consider it a “thanks for hiring me” gift.’ She opened the oven and placed the cake on the rack, then shut the door and turned to face Callan. The tenseness had left his eyes but they were still guarded, like a man who was wondering if he were about to fall into a trap, or if by saying ‘yes’ he’d be agreeing to something else.

      Which was ridiculous. She was offering him a cake. To eat. No strings attached.

      ‘If you don’t like lemon drizzle cake, I’m sure it would do well in the shop. It was always popular at the cafés and bakeries I’ve worked in previously.’ Josie took the empty mixing bowl to the sink and began filling it with water before the batter stuck to the sides and became an elbow-aching mission to get off.

      Callan blinked, hard and fast, then shook his head. ‘I’m sure Mia would love a little cake later on for afternoon tea. And there’s no need to pay for the ingredients. As a matter of fact, once it’s cooked and cooled down, would you join us?’

      ‘Oh, no, I couldn’t.’ Josie grabbed a fluffy pink hand towel, dried her hands and rehung it neatly over its hook. ‘I mean I’ll still be on duty, so you should be putting me to good use, not letting me sit around eating cake and drinking tea.’

      The corner of Callan’s lips lifted a tad. ‘Josie, has it been busy today?’

      Josie matched his smile. The villagers had got their goggle on that morning, meaning the only person to come in since had been Margo to check on the cake, and check her out. ‘No, it’s been quiet. Your neighbour, Margo, was the last person I’ve seen. Hence the cake baking. I’m not good at sitting still. Or standing still. Being still.’

      ‘Or talking still. You’re as fast as Mia. No wonder she likes you.’ The corners of Callan’s lips lifted some more, revealing a sprinkling of wrinkles on either side of his eyes that would have been sexy on any other man. But not on Callan. A father. A widower. A man in mourning. On him they were just … a touch charming.

      Disquiet squirmed low in Josie’s gut. She’d been in the job all of one day and already she was in danger of having people get too close. Worse. It was a 4-year-old who liked her. One who would be happy if Josie hung out with her and ate some cake. It was easy, mostly, to leave towns and cities and the acquaintances she forged there, but to leave a child? To potentially cause a child emotional pain? She’d just have to keep her distance. And that meant no cake.

      ‘Well, I’m not taking no for an answer. You saved my bacon by taking this job, Josie – well, technically, my cake – so I’d like it if you’d enjoy some afternoon tea with us. I’ll serve anyone who comes in. When will it be ready?’

      So much for no cake. So much for keeping her distance.

      Josie grabbed a tea towel and began drying off the bowl. ‘It’ll be about two hours away by the time it cooks, is drizzled with lemon syrup and cools.’

      ‘Perfect, that’ll give me time to do the bakery’s book work while Mia watches a bit of telly. Chill-out time. I read on the internet that kids need that.’ Callan rolled his eyes towards the ceiling and shook his head. ‘Chill-out time? What a wonderful thing. I think it should be mandatory for everyone.’

      Josie clicked the bowl back into its place on the mixer. ‘Oh, to be young again.’

      ‘Indeed. Right. I’ll bring Mia down in two hours. Call me if you need a second pair of hands.’ Callan stood and made his way up the stairs without waiting for a reply.

      Josie slumped forward onto the bench, held her head in her hands and let out a long, slow breath. It was just tea and cake. If she kept conversation light, if she didn’t engage too much or too warmly with Mia, she’d be fine. The ties would be easy to untangle. And no hearts would be broken.

      ***

      ‘It’s boring here at Christmas time. All my friends go away and don’t come back for ages. I have five friends. All girls, ’cause boys are yuck.’ Mia stuck out her tongue, then took another bite of her cake, its crumbs catching at either side of her mouth. ‘Do you have friends, Josie? Do you have five like me?’

СКАЧАТЬ