play.’
Victoria nods. ‘It’s okay. It would have been fun, but the teashop and drumming up business is the most important part.’
‘And we’ll still help out if we can,’ Nathan says which, again, is incredibly sweet of him. ‘I’m not much use in the kitchen but I can hand out flyers and stuff. I’m sure the others will chip in too.’
I manage my first genuine smile since we received the council’s rejection. ‘That would be amazing, thank you.’
‘So we’re going ahead with the free samples?’ Mags asks.
‘Let’s do it,’ I say, because we have to do something and this is all we’ve got.
So we forge ahead with the revised plan over the next few days. I plan the menu of sample-sized treats, ordering the required supplies and plotting a timetable to keep me on track on the day, while Mags contacts a local printer to provide the advertising materials we need. Victoria, Mags and I will distribute the flyers between us during the run-up to the event, covering the town centre, the local college and as many of the nearby primary schools as we can.
On the actual day, Nathan and the band (minus Victoria) will distribute more flyers in the town centre to catch any potential last-minute customers. Mags has also placed an advert in the local paper and I’ve been busy putting up posters in every permitted spot in town. I’m currently tacking one of the posters to the teashop’s window to grab the attention of any passers-by.
‘Is this the party you were talking about last time I was here?’ Birdie asks. She’s sitting by the window with her usual bowl of apple crumble and custard while Franklin waits patiently outside, his doggy treat long gone.
‘Sort of.’ I step back, gauging whether the poster is straight. ‘We didn’t get permission to use the garden so we’re having a scaled-down version here in the teashop. There’ll be lots of free samples and Victoria’s going to do some face-painting for the kids.’ I grab a flyer from the box that I’ve kept handy behind the counter and hand it to Birdie.
‘I’ll see if my Caleb can pop along with Cara,’ she says. ‘She loved the cakes and biscuits I took home for our tea party so I’m sure she’ll want to come.’
‘They’re more than welcome,’ I tell Birdie as the door opens. Dad is stooped in the doorway, scratching Franklin behind the ears as he slowly inches inside the teashop. He finally straightens, closing the door reluctantly as Franklin blinks at him with wide eyes through the glass.
‘You’re just in time,’ I tell Dad as I lead him to one of the tables. ‘The apple crumble is just out of the oven.’ I seat Dad before heading into the kitchen where I scoop a generous serving of apple crumble into a bowl and pour on thick, freshly made custard.
‘Best apple crumble I’ve ever had,’ Birdie says, lifting her loaded spoon as I place the dish in front of Dad.
‘She’s a smashing little baker,’ Dad says, winking up at me. ‘Always has been.’
‘This is my Dad,’ I explain. ‘Dad, this is one of my most loyal customers, Mrs Conrad.’
‘Birdie, please.’ Birdie reaches a hand across the small distance and shakes Dad’s hand. ‘Mrs Conrad is what the children call me at school.’
‘You’re a teacher?’ Dad asks.
‘Semi-retired. I do supply work now, three days a week. Keeps my brain active but I still get to enjoy leisurely days, stuffing myself with Maddie’s apple crumble. What is it you do …? I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.’
‘Clive,’ Dad says and I back away, leaving them to bond over their apple crumble while I join Mags in the office. She seems to spend more time in here than she does in the teashop and each time I see her hunched over the books at the desk, I grow more and more anxious.
‘The poster’s up,’ I tell Mags. ‘And Nathan and the others are going to pass the flyers out in exchange for baked goods.’ I’m doubly grateful for Nathan and the band’s generosity. They’ve not only stepped in to help spread the word, they’re doing it for free. ‘This is going to work, isn’t it?’
Mags tries to smile, though she can’t quite pull it off and it resembles a grimace. ‘I hope so. I really, really do.’
The alternative is unthinkable, so I busy myself with a bit of cleaning, making a start on the washing up while we’re quiet. Dad and Birdie are the only customers in the teashop and, as they’re entertaining themselves, I’m not really needed out in the teashop. Dad and Birdie are still chatting away as I clear their empty dishes but Birdie says her goodbyes when a fed-up Franklin start to yap outside the door.
‘Don’t forget these.’ I wave the usual bag of doggy treats and Birdie tuts and says I shouldn’t go to any trouble. ‘It’s no trouble. You know that.’
‘Franklin appreciates you going to the trouble, no matter what you say, so thank you from both of us.’ Birdie places the treats in her handbag and zips up her jacket. ‘I’ll hopefully see you tomorrow. It was nice meeting you, Clive.’
‘You too, Birdie,’ Dad says and he waves as Birdie and Franklin pass the window.
‘Cup of tea?’ I ask Dad.
He checks his watch and nods. ‘I should have enough time to squeeze a quick one in.’ I make cups of tea for Dad, Mags and I, placing a cup beside Mags in the office before joining Dad out in the teashop.
‘So how’s your mum?’ Dad asks as he takes a sip.
‘Good, I think.’ I haven’t actually seen Mum since I last visited Dad so I have no further news. I can see Dad is itching for more information so I’m glad when Nicky descends noisily into the teashop, flopping down onto one of the chairs at our table.
‘So all the shops in the street now have a flyer in their window,’ she says as she shrugs off her jacket and drapes it over the back of her chair.
‘Sorry?’ I have no idea what Nicky is talking about.
‘The flyers. For the party tomorrow. I offered to put one in the salon window and Mags said yes. I thought I may as well ask the others if they’d put one up too and they all agreed. Rehana and George weren’t so keen at first, the miserable buggers, until I pointed out that Rehana’s eyebrows were looking a bit uneven and offered to tidy them up for mate’s rates.’
‘Thank you.’ I’m taken aback by how kind everyone is being. ‘Let me get you a cup of tea and some cake. On the house.’
‘Don’t be daft. You’re going to be giving away more than enough freebies tomorrow.’ Nicky grabs her purse and heads over to the fridge to see what we have on offer today. She selects a chocolate fudge cupcake before joining Dad again. They see each other quite regularly in the teashop so they chat easily but it wouldn’t matter if Dad was a stranger; Nicky has such a breezy confidence and a chatterbox nature, she could start a conversation with thin air.
‘Have you thought any more about asking Jane out?’ I ask Dad when I join them with Nicky’s cup of tea. I’ve asked in front of Nicky on purpose so she can back me up.
Dad shakes his head. ‘I’ve told you, I’m too old for all that dating malarkey.’ Dad says the word ‘dating’ as though it’s the new term for dogging, scrunching up his nose and almost shuddering at the mere thought.
Nicky is about to plunge the cupcake into her mouth but she pauses, cocking an eyebrow at Dad. ‘I beg your pardon? Nobody is too old for dating. I’m going to be dating until the day I’m shoved into a wooden box and buried in the ground.’
‘Oh, come on,’ I scoff. ‘I bet even death won’t stop you.’
Nicky laughs. ‘That’s true. I’ll probably flirt with the undertaker as he’s embalming me.’ She turns to Dad, eyebrows low to show her sincerity now. ‘Seriously, Clive. You’re never too old to