Georgia Hill - Millie Vanilla’s Cupcake Café

‘True.’

‘I’m the maverick of the family, though. My brother, Alex, is the successful one. Banker in the city,’ he added at her blank look.

It really was another existence. For the first time, Millie felt restlessness tug at her, felt the frustration of a life that had been so horribly derailed on that awful day in June. The one when the police had arrived on her doorstep asking if there was anyone who could be with her. The only people she could think of had been the Bartletts. Owners of The Plaice Place and parents of her best friend at school. Millie had a sudden vision of Dora pushing past them, running into the café and bursting into hysterical tears. Mrs Bartlett had simply hugged a dry-eyed Millie to her. Millie hadn’t cried for a long, long time. Instead, she had given up on school and a university place, to run the café. She’d layered her grief under solid hard work ever since. Had re-named the café and begun to enjoy the life it gave her. But what if her parents hadn’t died? What if she’d gone to university after all, got a job like Jed’s or his high-flying brother’s? Trevor nudged at her knee and whined a little, bringing her back. It was stupid to think that way. Her life was perfect as it was.

Jed had been talking, explaining more of what his job entailed but she’d missed most of it. She gathered it meant a lot of international travelling. She’d been right. They were from different worlds. Different galaxies, even. She imagined him with a sleek blonde on his arm, at parties, skiing, at one of those resorts where cute little huts were built over a tropical sea. Or did that constitute a beach holiday? She doubted it.

‘You’re miles away,’ Jed said and took her hand in his. ‘That’s why I don’t go on about my job, or one of the reasons, anyway. It bores people rigid. And I’d hate to bore you.’

He was very close. Yes, they were different animals but even Millie, inexperienced as she was, couldn’t mistake the warmth in his expression.

‘I’m so sorry. You’re right, I was miles away.’ Fervently hoping her hand wasn’t greasy from the pasty and that she didn’t have onion breath, she blurted out, ‘I’m just a bit worried about how the new café opening up in Berecombe will impact on my place.’

Jed sat back and removed his hand. Perhaps she had bad breath after all?

‘I’ve heard the gossip in town. You’re talking about Blue Elephant?’ he asked after a long pause. ‘I can’t see it myself.’

‘Can’t you?’

‘Millie, you’ve got something very special going on. Millie Vanilla’s does exceptional food, great coffee and you’ve a loyal band of customers on top of seasonal trade. You’re at the heart of your community, any fool can see that. I certainly did on my first visit. They all love you, don’t they?’ He shoved his sunglasses up his nose with one finger and seemed embarrassed at being so serious. ‘Plus,’ he added, more flippantly, ‘you’re much nearer to the beach. Practically on it. And that sun terrace you have is a huge bonus.’

Millie wasn’t sure she was loved by everyone. It certainly didn’t feel that way with Biddy most of the time. ‘The terrace is my secret weapon, I agree. It’s a fantastic draw in the summer.’ She glanced across. ‘So you think I’m worrying about nothing?’

‘Well, it’s wise to be cautious. I wouldn’t invest in changing any major stuff for the time being. Sticking with what you know goes down well with your customers and your strong brand.’

Millie laughed. ‘My brand? I don’t think I have one of those.’

‘You may not think it but, yes, Millie Vanilla’s is strongly branded. In its own way. And remember your links to your community. Blue Elephant can never hope to emulate that.’

‘Thanks, Jed. I appreciate you saying that. Is that some of your management consultancy in action?’

He laughed. ‘Sort of. Need a lift back to Berecombe?’

‘No thanks. I’ve got my car.’ She rose and he passed her the shopping bags.

‘Millie, I know you work all the hours God sends but I’d like to take you out one evening, if I may?’

Millie looked down at his face, wishing he’d take off his sunglasses so she could see his eyes. Tessa’s words rushed back at her. Her friend had been right, she did deserve some fun. When had she last been out with a man before Jed came along? She wracked her brain to no avail. She and Tessa hadn’t been out on a girly night in Exeter for weeks either. They’d not even managed a pizza in Lyme.

She smiled at him, making her decision. ‘Now the literary festival is over, I’m not staying open late in the evenings, so yes, Jed, you may take me out. In fact, I’d like nothing better.’

Jed picked her up in a Golf, top of the range, and obviously a hire car.

When he saw her admiring its plush leather interior, he explained. ‘I’m never in one place for very long.’ There was more regret in his voice. ‘So there seems little point in getting a car of my own. I just hire one wherever I am.’

It was one more indication of his peripatetic lifestyle.

‘Where are you staying, while you’re around here I mean?’

‘Oh, haven’t I said? The Lord of the Manor.’ He steered the car out of its tight spot with ease. ‘Do you know it?’

Millie suppressed a laugh. ‘Yes, I know it. We’re not going there for dinner, are we?’

‘No fear,’ Jed said stoutly. ‘The food’s dire. I can’t believe the place gets any business.’

‘Neither can I. The Simpson family, who run it, have had it for donkey’s years but don’t like spending money on it. I haven’t been in for ages.’ She glanced at his profile while he drove. He had a very lovely high-bridged nose and enviably clear skin. ‘What’s it like?’

‘The public rooms are okay, if you like shabby-chic that’s original Jacobean and not designer. But my room is a nightmare. Hot water at random times, the windows have gaps around them bigger than the frames and non-existent heating. I only had enough hot water for the quickest of showers tonight. I hope I don’t smell.’

Using it as an excuse, Millie leaned over and sniffed. He smelled heavenly, as usual. ‘No, you don’t smell of anything you shouldn’t,’ she said, taking in a lungful of something woody. It made a change to be with a man who smelled of something other than Old Spice, as Arthur invariably did. Along with wet dog on occasion.

Jed concentrated as he turned right onto the A35 before adding, ‘But it’s the lack of Wi-Fi that really irritates me. The place claims to have superfast broadband but I haven’t seen any evidence of it so far.’

‘To be fair, the internet is notoriously slow around here. I’ve never been sure why. Too many hills, maybe? In some places it’s hard to get a signal on your mobile, let alone anything else.’

‘I’ve noticed.’ He flashed a swift grin. ‘How on earth do you manage? To run a business, I mean.’

‘Oh, we do okay. Sometimes it’s even quite nice to do things the old-fashioned way. You know, on the landline.’ She pulled a face. ‘Or by post.’

‘Do you know, I think I’ve had better reception in the middle of the desert than Dorset or Devon?’ Then he heard, properly, what she’d said. ‘Are you poking fun at me?’

‘Not at all, but don’t you think it’s good to occasionally be away from all that social media and stuff? I can’t see the point of posting pictures of what you’ve had for lunch. Fries my brain sometimes.’ Millie felt herself tense. They were approaching the spot where her parents had died. Even after all these years, she still couldn’t pass it without grief stealing in.

‘I think you’re delightfully and gorgeously old-fashioned, Millie. And I know what you mean, but customers nowadays expect to be connected to a fast service all the time. And moan like hell if they can’t.’ He gunned the Golf’s engine and overtook expertly. He must have noticed her clenched fists. ‘Are you alright? Not a nervous passenger?’