Georgia Hill - Millie Vanilla’s Cupcake Café

Millie found the leg of the stool behind the till and dragged it over using her foot. Blue Elephant! She collapsed onto it. It couldn’t be much worse. They were huge in the States and had just started to open branches in the UK, rivalling Costa and Starbucks. They were a Fairtrade company and committed to using organic supplies. With their muffins, granary sandwiches and coffees they’d be in direct competition with what she did at Millie Vanilla’s. Even worse, the backing of a large corporation meant buying in bulk across their outlets and almost certainly undercutting her prices. She felt sick.

‘But the council is still letting this Elephant place go ahead?’ Biddy asked through a mouthful of scone, scattering crumbs.

‘I’m afraid so, Biddy.’

‘What did you say? ‘Speak up, man.’

‘I said, yes I’m afraid so,’ Arthur repeated.

Biddy snorted again.

‘I will endeavour to put forward your feelings at the next council meeting.’

In answer, Biddy slurped her coffee. Silence fell, only interrupted by whimpers coming from a now dreaming and kicking Elvis.

Arthur, sensing their conversation was at an end, came to the counter and paid the exact amount in cash as he always did. ‘I’m sorry, dear girl,’ he whispered, ‘that I couldn’t tell you sooner. About this Blue Elephant business. It was all a very hush-hush affair.’

Millie nodded mutely and watched him as he left. Trevor followed him to the door and whined. After hearing the dreadful news Millie wanted to join in.

To her relief, business picked up a little at Millie Vanilla’s over the next few days. The literary festival brought a smattering of people into town. Millie stayed open on the nights events were held and did a roaring trade in warming pea and ham soup and her rich apricot and almond tray bake. She liked the lone customers who came in, pored over a book in a corner and demanded constant tea and coffee. The festival was designed to bring some trade into town in the quiet days after the Christmas season and it was working.

Along with the Yummy Mummies Plus One Dad Group and her other regulars, the W.I. Knitting Circle and the Berecombe B.A.P.S (the Berecombe Appreciation of Paperbacks Society), she was kept busy.

Tessa popped by one evening with her two youngest boys. While the children took Trevor for a run on the beach, she tucked into the apricot cake with relish. ‘Oh,’ she sighed, ‘you should definitely make loads more of this. It’s bloomin’ gorgeous.’ She looked up as the door opened. ‘Hello, our Sean.’

Her eldest son stood in the doorway looking coy. ‘Hi, Mum.’

A possible reason for his embarrassment arrived a second later. Zoe, this time with bleached-white hair, fell into the café behind him. ‘Oh hello, Mrs Tizzard.’

‘Zoe, me lover, told you before, call me Tessa. Grab a pew. What are you having?’

‘Well, we’re not stopping. We’re just on our way to the poetry reading in the theatre.’

Tessa’s shoulders quivered with barely contained laughter. ‘Poetry reading? Not usually our Sean’s thing.’

As an answer Sean grunted.

‘You forgot your scarf on Saturday, Zoe,’ Millie interrupted, to save him further embarrassment. ‘And would you like your wages while you’re here?’

‘Aw thanks, Mil. I can get Mum her birthday pressie later. There’s a craft fayre on in the theatre afterwards. She said she’d seen some nice earrings she’d like.’

‘That Susie Evans does some nice stuff,’ Tessa pointed out through a mouthful of cake. ‘Tell her I sent you and she’ll give you a bit off.’

‘Oh and she can have a free coffee next time she’s in,’ added Millie.

‘Thanks, Mrs Tizzard, I mean Tessa. And thanks, Mil.’ Zoe wound the scarf around her neck and stuffed her wages into the battered satchel she used as a handbag. ‘You coming then, Sean?’

Sean, who was looking longingly at the half-eaten slice of cake on his mother’s plate, snapped into attention and opened the door.

‘See you later, kids,’ his mother cackled. ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!’

Millie pressed a couple of slices of cake, wrapped in a serviette, into Sean’s hands. She winked at him in sympathy. ‘Bye both. Oh and Zoe, think I preferred Plummy Aubergine!’

Sean scowled at his mother, Zoe waved a cheerful goodbye and then they strode off along the promenade, arm in arm, heads close together.

Millie served scones and tea to a group deep in argument over the latest Booker prizewinner and then joined Tessa. ‘Is there something going on between those two?’

Tessa exploded into laughter. ‘Bloody poetry. Our Sean? I ask you!’ She shook her head in answer. ‘Who knows? If there is, it’s news to me. Thought they were just friends. Wouldn’t mind a bit, though. Zoe’s a lovely girl. And she’s a good influence on Sean, not counting this sudden passion for poetry.’

‘But isn’t he going to work at that picture-framing company in Honiton?’

‘Yes, bab, it’s all set up. It’ll suit him. Says he’s had enough of exams to last a lifetime. He’s never been the most academic of my three. Unfortunately. What of it?’

‘Just that it might explain Zoe’s sudden cold feet about going to Durham.’

Tessa looked to where, illuminated by the white lights strung up all along the promenade, she could see her eldest walking with his arm around Zoe’s shoulders. They stopped for a moment to take the inevitable selfie and giggled at the result. ‘You mean, young love? Sweet.’

‘And intense. You never feel the same as you do when you’re in love at seventeen.’

Tessa pulled a gloomy face. ‘Don’t know. It was so long ago I can’t remember.’

Millie laughed. ‘Don’t get me wrong, your Sean is gorgeous. But –’

‘If you had the choice between love and a degree from Durham?’ Tessa asked.

‘I think I’d choose Durham.’

Tessa shoved in the last of her cake. ‘That’s what’s wrong with you, Emilia Fudge,’ she said through a full mouth, ‘there’s no romance in your soul. When was the last time you had a hot lover on your arm?’

‘Don’t know. It was so long ago I can’t remember.’ She winked at Tessa.

Tessa sniggered and got up. ‘Better go and rescue Trevor from the boys. He’ll have had enough by now. I’m amazed they can see anything on the beach at this time of night.’

‘Oh, the lights on the prom reach out quite a way.’ Millie stretched her back. It had been a long day.

Tessa observed her friend with affection. ‘You look knackered. It really is about time you had some fun, my girl.’

Millie gave a wry smile. ‘You tell me when and who with and I’m all for it. Not sure how I’ll squeeze in a hot man, though. I work all day and bake all night. And I don’t know about fun, but it would be lovely to have someone special to share my life with. I get lonely sometimes.’

Tessa nodded. ‘I understand, kiddo. You can have all the friends in the world and still feel lonely without a special person to come home to.’ She was silent for a moment and then added, ‘Come here.’

‘What for?’

‘Come here,’ Tessa repeated and beckoned Millie to where she was standing by the big picture window. When Millie obeyed, she turned her to face it, standing behind their joint reflection and putting her hands on her friend’s shoulders. ‘Look at you.’

Millie looked. And pouted. ‘You’re right. I look knackered.’

‘Dead right you do. You’re tired because you’ve just done a fourteen-hour day.’

‘Your point being?’ Millie was embarrassed, aware that the literary festival group were watching with interest.

‘Behind the tiredness, I see gorgeous big brown eyes, that lovely dark hair and legs that I’d kill for. Don’t let life be all about work, Millie. Go and find yourself that man. You want marriage, babies, the whole enchilada, don’t you?’