Georgia Hill - Millie Vanilla’s Cupcake Café

‘Thanks.’ Arthur was a member of Berecombe’s town council. What he didn’t know wasn’t worth knowing. ‘Your usual?’

‘Bless you. A trifle chilly out there today.’

‘Isn’t it just? But I love these crisp days,’ Millie shouted from the kitchen.

‘I’ve heard we might have snow later.’

‘Snow?’ Millie put the tray down on the draining board and poked her head out of the door. ‘It never snows here. We don’t even get so much as a frost.’

‘Not strictly true. I can remember it snowing one winter when I was a boy. Covered the beach. Magical. Funnily enough, I always find it’s the coldest just before we get the first of the spring days.’

‘Some warmer weather would be welcome and good for business too. But snow, eh? How exciting! Must have been years ago. Before my time.’

‘Thank you for reminding me what an old codger I am.’

‘Sorry, Arthur. Extra sausage? And one for Daisy as an apology?’

‘Accepted with pleasure. Organic sausages from Small’s farm, I assume?’

Millie nodded and disappeared into the kitchen.

Arthur went over to the table Jed had just vacated. ‘Ah,’ he called through to her. ‘I see your mysterious customer has left his newspaper. I might just have a quick look.’ He bent and picked it up. ‘Oh, how disappointing. The Financial Times . Not quite my choice of reading matter on a Friday morning.’ His brows rose over his steel-rimmed specs. ‘Might be a clue to his identity, however! A businessman, perhaps?’

‘Perhaps.’ Millie stepped around Daisy as she brought over Arthur’s mug of tea. ‘Strong builder’s as usual.’

‘Bless you, my dear.’

‘And how’s the old girl?’ She bent to tickle Daisy’s ears. ‘I hear she’s been annoying Elvis again.’

‘Well, at least it shows there’s some life left in her. She’s getting on a bit now. Like me.’

Millie saw emotion contort Arthur’s face. She straightened. ‘Oh Arthur, you’ve both got years ahead of you yet.’ Goodness knows what the old man would do when Daisy went. They were devoted to each other. ‘And if she can still chase after a poodle, there must be hope.’

‘Indeed. However, I fear Biddy does not quite see it that way. And Elvis is an assistance dog. Daisy shouldn’t interfere when he’s working.’

‘I think they’re secretly very fond of one another,’ Millie said, reflecting that the same could be said of their bickering owners. ‘And don’t worry, Biddy’s fine. Never happy unless she’s got something to moan about.’

‘As my granddaughter Zoe would say, ain’t that the truth?’

Laughing, Millie went to get his breakfast ready, confident her cooked English could never be described as mediocre.

Early on Saturday morning, when the sun was just rising over the bay, Zoe crashed in to begin her shift.

‘Like your hair, Zo. What colour is it this time?’

Zoe pulled a lock of her purple fringe and went cross-eyed looking at it. ‘Plummy Aubergine.’

‘Nice. Although I quite liked the shocking pink.’

‘Mum didn’t,’ Zoe said gloomily as she tied on her apron. ‘And school hated it. Threatened to suspend me if I didn’t tone it down.’

‘And Plummy Aubergine counts as toning it down?’

Zoe scuffed her platform trainers. ‘Mmm.’

‘Well, this is an important year for you. Getting your grades for university and everything.’

Zoe pulled out a chair and collapsed onto it, looking morose. ‘Yeah, well, don’t know if I actually want to go.’

Millie paused while refilling the cupcake-shaped sugar bowls. Taking the seat opposite Zoe, she sat down and took the girl’s hand. ‘What’s all this about, then, my lovely?’

Zoe gave an enormous sigh. ‘Oh, I don’t know. Just think there’s more to life than batting off horny undergrads and saddling yourself with a humungous debt.’

Millie tried to keep a straight face. ‘Well, there’s certainly more to university than that.’

‘You know what I mean.’

‘But it’s what you’ve always wanted.’

‘Is it?’ Zoe looked up and Millie was shocked to see tears in her heavily kohled eyes. Usually the girl was breezily happy and uncomplicated. Her choice of alternative image being the notable exception.

‘Isn’t it?’ Millie hid her shock. Zoe was an extremely bright girl. University had always been the goal.

‘It’s what Mum and Dad want me to do. Have always wanted me to do. And Granddad.’

Arthur would be devastated. Zoe was his only grandchild and he doted on her. ‘You need to do what’s right for you, my lovely.’

Zoe pouted and moodily traced the flowery pattern on the oilcloth. ‘You didn’t go, did you?’

Millie resumed filling the sugar bowl. ‘No,’ she said carefully. ‘But that was different. I had the café.’

‘That your parents ran?’

Millie nodded. ‘Until they died.’ She bit her lip.

‘Aw, I’m sorry, Mil. For making you remember.’

Millie nodded. ‘Well, some things are difficult to talk about still.’

‘Even after all these years?’

‘Even after all these years.’

‘That A35. It’s a death-trap,’ Zoe said viciously.

Millie rose. ‘It is.’

‘There was another accident on it last week. Friend of Clare’s mother. But no one was seriously hurt.’

‘Well, road accidents happen all the time, don’t they?’ Millie clasped the bag of sugar to her as a shield. ‘Now,’ she said, with a forced brightness. ‘We’d better get ourselves ready; we’ll have a few frozen weekenders in, no doubt.’

‘Yeah, okay.’ Zoe got up and followed Millie to the kitchen. ‘Sorry.’

Millie turned to her in surprise. ‘Whatever for?’

‘For doing a downer on you.’

‘Oh, Zoe!’ Millie put the sugar down and gave her a hug. ‘You know you can talk to me. Any time. About anything.’

‘I know.’

‘Just think carefully about your future, won’t you? You’re such a clever girl. You could do anything and everything you want.’

‘Meaning university?’

‘Maybe university, if that’s what you really want, but so much more too.’ Millie released Zoe and gave her a grin. ‘Come on, let’s grab a coffee before the Saturday rush starts. I’ve made some millionaire’s shortbread. Fancy some?’

Zoe rolled her eyes and giggled. ‘Is the Pope Catholic?’

‘Is he? I’ve no idea. Pretty sure he wouldn’t approve of Plummy Aubergine, though.’ Millie tweaked Zoe’s fringe.

‘Showing your age, Mil.’

‘Cheek. I’ll have you know I still have a two in it. Just about.’

Zoe grinned. ‘Yeah, that’s what I mean. Pos-it-ive-ly ancient. Totally past it, girlfriend.’

Millie grabbed a tea towel and snapped it at Zoe’s rear. ‘You, young lady, may not live long enough to get as far as my shortbread. Into that kitchen and begin work this minute.’

‘Gawd. Thought the days of child slave labour died out with Dickens,’ Zoe said good-naturedly and skipped ahead of Millie and into the welcoming scents of a kitchen, which produced heavenly little squares of chocolate and caramel on shortbread.

It was cold and still dark as Millie walked briskly up Berecombe’s steep main street to the post office. Millie was used to early starts. She’d been getting up at five all her working life. True, getting up at the crack of dawn was far more pleasant in the summer months. But even at this time of year she delighted in the muffled, secretive quality the town had when few others were around. She kissed each letter as she posted it, wishing it a safe and speedy journey to its destination, then turned and walked back down the hill. As she did, she passed the old bank building. The closing of Berecombe’s only bank had caused huge distress, especially among her older customers. Not used to online banking and unwilling to trust it, they were now having to go into Honiton or Axminster to do any banking business. More alarming for Millie, a lot of them, having made the journey, were staying on there for coffee and lunch. She’d lost quite a lot of trade that way. She bit her lip; she might have to rethink one or two things to keep her going through to the busy summer season. She just wished she knew what.