Georgia Hill - Millie Vanilla’s Cupcake Café

It had been the perfect evening. Enclosed in their cosy corner, it was as if they were in a happy little bubble all on their own. Jed had eaten with gusto, declaring his steak pie the best he’d ever had and ordered another pint of beer. They’d talked – about his childhood spent all around the world, but mostly he’d asked about her. Millie hadn’t had anyone so interested in her for, well, she couldn’t remember. So used to listening to Biddy moan or Arthur give a weather forecast or Zoe bang on about school, it had been exhilarating to talk about herself for a change. Jed had been an amazing listener, hanging on her every word. It had been immensely flattering. Millie hadn’t missed the covetous glances from the other women in the pub either. She didn’t blame them. Jed had looked positively edible in skinny jeans and a blue-and-white-striped rugby shirt.

He had insisted on walking her the short distance back to the café and to the steps at the side that led to her flat. It was about as romantic a night as could be. The sleet had stopped. All that was left was a crystal-cold night sky over an inky calm sea. No moon but a sprinkling of stars hanging over a just-visible, rolling coastline. In the distance, the Portland lighthouse beam appeared and dipped from view. There were few other people around and no need to hurry. As Jed and Millie walked along, arm in arm, the sea shifted and sighed, as if indulging in the romance of it all.

If Millie had been hoping for – or expecting – a goodnight kiss, she was disappointed. After a sort of mock salute, Jed had walked off along the promenade into the night, his broad shoulders making a triangle of his coat as he tucked his hands inside his pockets, pulling it tight across his hips. Millie had watched his blond head, made paler by the white lights strung from lamp post to lamp post, disappear around the corner to the hill leading to the shops. Her breath puffed out in a frozen cloud as she rested her chin on the handrail to the steps. She clung on to the metal for dear life. It was the only thing that stopped her from running after him.

It had been one of the best nights of her life.

Millie hugged her knees again and giggled to herself. She knew she was acting like a lovelorn teenager but it was such a novel and delicious feeling to like and be liked back that she couldn’t help herself. Enjoying the champagne fizz of emotions inside, she rolled over onto her back and listened to the sea crashing outside.

She must have dozed off because she was woken by Trevor’s impatient barking, ordering her to let him out. When she clocked the time, she gave a frantic yell at how late she’d slept. There was no more time for dwelling on mysterious handsome men with melting brown eyes.

Arthur was her first customer. He turned up just as Millie was unlocking the front door and flipping the sign to, “Come in for gorgeous cakes.” She’d given Trevor the most cursory of runs on the beach and had got most things ready for another day at the café. The breeze coming off the sea was gentler this morning and there was a brighter blue in the sky. Even the aubrieta, cascading down the low wall that separated the café’s sun terrace from the beach, had greened up. Was it too much to hope that spring was in the air?

One look at Arthur’s distraught face had all thoughts of Jed and the softening season taking flight. He came in, again without Daisy, but followed closely on his heels by Biddy and Elvis.

‘I’ve been calling you all along the prom,’ the elderly lady yelled at the unfortunate man. ‘Where’s Daisy?’

Ignoring Biddy, Millie steered Arthur to his table in the window and sat him down. She feared the worst.

‘Cup of tea, Arthur? Or maybe a pot?’ At his nod she smiled and wasn’t reassured to see tears gleam behind his spectacles. To her surprise Biddy joined him, sitting opposite. Millie’s heart sank. Biddy wasn’t the easiest company and her tactlessness was legendary.

‘I said, how’s Daisy? Fern at the vet’s said she was in there.’

‘Biddy,’ warned Millie.

Arthur cleared his throat. ‘It’s alright, Millie. You may as well both know, the vet found a tumour. Daisy’s got to have an operation.’

‘A tumour? That doesn’t sound good.’ Biddy sniffed.

‘Biddy!’ Millie rolled her eyes.

‘What? No point beating about the bush, is there?’

Millie supposed there wasn’t. Concerned that Biddy might upset Arthur further, she rushed to the kitchen, made a pot of tea as quickly as she could, threw a few pastries onto a plate and joined the pensioners at their table.

‘You know I always drink coffee,’ grumbled Biddy.

‘Well, just this once you can have tea.’ As the woman began to moan, Millie cut her off with, ‘Don’t worry, it’s on the house.’

There was a silence as Millie doled out mugs and plates and offered round the cakes. She sneaked a dog biscuit to Elvis, who had retreated under the table and was sitting on her foot. ‘Go on, Arthur,’ she encouraged when he at first refused. ‘Try a bit of this tray bake. I soak the apricots in brandy to give them extra flavour.’

‘Brandy, I ask you!’ Biddy spluttered. ‘You’ll never make a decent profit by doing that sort of malarkey, young lady.’

‘Maybe not, but it goes down a storm and I only make it at this time of year.’ So put that in your pipe and smoke it, she added silently.

‘Not keen on brandy, me,’ added Biddy taking a huge mouthful and chewing with enthusiasm.

‘So, Arthur,’ Millie resumed, ‘Tell us all about Daisy. That’s if you can, of course.’ She put a hand on his and was distressed to feel it tremble.

He took an enormous breath and began to talk. Turned out Daisy had been under the weather for a while and, on a regular visit for her jabs, the vet had felt a lump on the dog’s stomach.

‘I don’t know how I could have missed it!’ Arthur cried. Millie pushed a mug of tea towards him.

Biddy pursed her lips. Millie braced herself for some kind of accusation or dire warning from the old woman. Instead she said, ‘Easily done. And some of them tumours grow fast. Besides, Daisy’s got such a thick coat, would’ve been easy to miss.’

Millie looked at Biddy in gratitude. She was being quite nice!

‘I had a goldie years ago,’ Biddy went on. ‘Just like your Daisy. Had her when I was doing my last job. Too busy rushing round the place. Missed a lump just under her ear.’

‘But she was okay, wasn’t she?’ asked Millie, praying Biddy had some consolation for Arthur.

‘Oh no. Turned out to be malignant. Had to have her put down. Upset all the girls, it did. Mind you, she was knocking on for twelve.’

Millie winced. Biddy’s rare tactfulness had been short-lived.

Arthur drank some tea. ‘Good age for a goldie,’ was all he said.

Biddy nodded. ‘You do what you can, don’t you?’ she boomed. ‘But there’s only so much you can do.’

‘What’s going to happen?’ Millie pushed the plate of cakes Biddy’s way in the hope of shutting her up.

‘They’ll have to conduct some tests, I expect, see what it is and we’ll take it from there.’

‘You got insurance?’ Biddy asked.

Arthur nodded. ‘But only up to a certain amount. If Daisy needs a very expensive operation …’ his voice trailed off.

‘Was going to say, I can always cough up a bit if you haven’t. What you looking at me like that for, Millie? We dog-owners got to stick together in times of crisis.’

Arthur dislodged Millie’s hand and reached over to Biddy. ‘Dear lady, that is a very kind thought.’

Millie looked from one to the other in amazement. Their usual enmity had been completely forgotten. Sliding off her seat she left them to it, praying Daisy would be in the clear – and that Biddy wouldn’t say anything more to upset Arthur.