Julie Caplin - The Little Brooklyn Bakery - A heartwarming feel good novel full of cakes and romance!

What she hadn’t told Kate was that she doubted her own judgement. It had proved so false, some days she found it impossible to make a decision. It wasn’t as if she’d even decided consciously to come to New York. There was no weighing up the pros and cons, examining what it would really entail. No, she’d grabbed at the offer, grasping it with desperate, greedy hands as if it were a life-raft amidst the storm of fear, rage and utter despair.

Just as she was about to shut the window, she heard a loud rattle from inside the building, followed by a bang, a crash and then a loud curse. ‘You’re fucking kidding me.’

Hurrying to her door, she opened it and ventured to the top of the stairs. In an ungainly tangle of limbs, Bella sprawled on the landing at the top of the next flight of stairs below. Sophie hurried down.

‘What happened?’ she asked as she helped Bella up.

Wide-eyed, Bella clutched her hand to her chest. She’d clearly given herself quite a fright. Sucking in a quick breath, she said, ‘Tripped on the last step. For a horrible darn minute, I thought I was going to take a header straight down.’ Bella’s lip quivered and she hauled herself to a seated position, rubbing at her knee. With a sniff she nodded, her eyes bright with unshed tears.

‘Are you OK?’ asked Sophie, feeling useless, standing over Bella.

‘I will b-be in a mo.’ She closed her eyes tight and carried on rubbing at her knee, her teeth gnawing at her lip. ‘I daren’t look. I’m trying to think really positive here, but right now I can’t think of a single angle. Are they all completely ruined?’

Sophie peered down at the frosting-spattered stairs. A rainbow of bright blobs of red, yellow, blue and green was liberally dotted everywhere. Paintball splats on virtually every tread.

‘Difficult to tell. Some of them … might … be salvageable.’ The doubt was clear in her voice. From here they looked pretty battered.

‘Aw, shit!’ Bella angrily dashed at the lone tear that escaped. ‘Shit. Shit. Shit. I just spent the last three hours icing six dozen of the little fuckers for an engagement party tomorrow, and now I’ve dropped half of them.’ She rested her head on her knees, hugging them, saying in a muffled voice, ‘I’m supposed to be delivering them before I open up tomorrow morning.’ She lifted her head, sniffing as more tears ran down her face. ‘I’m going to have to s-start over,’ her breath hitched, ‘and I’m … so tired.’ She burst into noisy sobs.

‘Hey, it’s alright.’ Even though she didn’t know Bella that well, Sophie sank down beside her on the top step and put her arm around her shoulder.

After several ragged breaths and discreet sniffs, Bella calmed down. ‘Shit, I’m sorry. I’m not a crier but … it’s been a tough one.’ She started to rise. ‘Aw, sheesh, look at the mess. What the hell am I going to do? It’s going to take forever to clean this up and then I’m going to have bake a new batch and let them cool before I can decorate them.’

Sophie put a firm hand on her shoulder. ‘Just take a minute.’

Together they surveyed the wreckage. ‘Rainbow cakes?’ asked Sophie.

‘Yeah, I’m starting to regret that now. I store commissions upstairs because there’s not enough room in the kitchen downstairs.’

‘Well, it makes for a good show,’ said Sophie, trying not to smile. There really was colour just about everywhere.

Bella let out a tiny giggle as together they surveyed the vibrant mess. ‘I never do anything by halves.’

‘Perhaps you’ve missed your calling. You could always take up interior decorating. It looks very colourful.’ Together they burst out laughing.

‘OK,’ said Sophie, suddenly feeling like her old self. ‘First things first. We identify all those that are salvageable. You can probably scrape off the icing and redecorate some of them.’

‘I dunno.’ Bella winced, her face already looking a bit brighter. ‘Some look pretty darned battered. It was one of those spectacular toss-’em-all-up-in-the-air babies.’ She shook her head, a couple of red curls escaping her scarf. ‘I guess I’m lucky I didn’t take a header after them.’

‘Why don’t you sit down, have a coffee and a rest? You look quite shaken up and you probably want some ice on that knee. And then I can start cleaning up down here and we can make a plan. I can help. Be your assistant. And with two of us, it’ll be a lot easier.’

Bella stopped and looked back up the stairs. ‘It’s Friday night? Aren’t you on your way out somewhere?’

‘No. Thought I’d have a night in.’ Sophie’s smile was so brittle, she wondered if her face might crack.

‘Normally I’d say no, it’s fine, but I’m so pooped, I could really use the help. But I … I can’t let you clean up.’

‘Yes, you can,’ said Sophie with a determined glint in her eye. ‘Leave it to me. Give me that tray, and have you got a bin bag?’

Sophie helped Bella hobble up to her flat and settled her in a seat, with a bag of frozen corn on her knee. Bella’s flat was similar in layout to the one below, except it had a ladder reaching up to the ceiling in the kitchen and a lot of empty shelves, with plastic cupcake holders.

‘I normally transport the cakes in those, but they only hold a dozen and I was being lazy and trying to do one trip down the stairs, so I put them on a tray. Serves me right.’

Bella pointed her in the direction of cleaning cloths, and Sophie carried a washing-up bowl down the stairs to deal with the mess. As she scooped up the random dollops of buttercream, she smiled to herself. This was not the most glamorous way of spending Friday night, but it beat not having anything to do.

Half an hour later, Sophie had just about finished when Bella came hobbling down the stairs clutching a bottle of wine and two glasses.

‘What’s the damage?’ asked Bella wearily as she stood on the last step. ‘I brought vital supplies.’ She held up the bottle.

With a frown, Sophie indicated the tray to her left on the hall console table. ‘Ten can be re-done. But the rest are goners, I’m afraid.’

‘Sheesh, that bad. It’s gonna be a late one. Although dinner’s sorted. As much as you can eat mashed-up cake.’ She grabbed one of the cakes. ‘If you scrape the dust off.’

Sophie grinned. ‘I already ate, but for wine, I’m happy to stay, help and be your sous chef.’

‘Are you sure? It’s Friday evening and the night’s still young. I’m plain sad, there’s no need for you to be too.’

Sophie responded with a shrug and a half-laugh. ‘It’s not like I’m doing anything else tonight.’

Bella gave her a narrow-eyed stare. ‘Sorry I’ve been mega-busy. I should have been more neighbourly and been in to say hi. You’ve been here two weeks. I can’t believe that. But it’s gone so darned fast. Come on.’ She waved the bottle and glasses and led the way through a side door. ‘This takes us straight into the kitchen. I keep thinking that maybe I should have gone into catering. Someone said to me last week that’ – she bookmarked with her fingers – ‘“Cupcakes are so last year and wedding cakes are too specialised.” There’s more money in general catering – you know, finger food and buffets. But seriously, what would you rather have? A great big sugar-kiss delivered in a little work of art in a cupcake case, or a chicken drumstick in sesame and soy? No one ever said, Let them eat chicken , did they?’

Sophie laughed. ‘True.’

‘And there’s something about a cake. It says love. It says sugary yumminess. It’s like a tiny hand-held hug. Cakes are for Christmas, celebrations, holidays and birthdays. Weddings. For happy, happy days. That’s why I love making them. The world needs more happiness.’