Cecelia Ahern - The Time of My Life

‘Wow. Enlightenment is an understatement. So you’re ready to make changes?’

‘Ready is my middle name.’ I continued to work the dough, like a woman on a mission.

‘Actually, it’s Caroline but I know what you mean.’ He leaned his chin on his hand and watched me lazily but I could tell he was as pumped as I was. There was a change in me, things were finally moving. ‘I received your text message at midnight last night.’

‘Good,’ I said, lifting the pastry from the counter, resting it on a plate and gently smoothing it down to fill the shape of the dish.

‘I take it you sent a similar message to all of your friends?’

‘Yep.’

‘Did they even know it was your birthday? Why didn’t they plan something for you?’

‘They wanted to plan it months ago but I told them not to. I told them I’d be in Paris with my mum.’

‘Is everybody attending this birthday dinner for the surprise announcement?’

‘Yep. So far, everybody but Don.’

‘And are you going to fill me in on what your little announcement is going to be?’

‘Nope.’

He didn’t seem to mind.

‘So what do you plan to do with all this food?’

‘I can give some to the neighbours.’

He was quiet. Then, ‘You watched that movie last night, didn’t you?’

‘What movie?’ I tried to act confused.

‘Lucy.’ He stood up from the stool, losing his patience. ‘What are you going to do, open up a cupcake shop like the girl in the film?’

I pinked. ‘Why not? It worked for her.’

‘Because it’s a movie Lucy, they make life-changing decisions in twenty-second montages. This is your life . You don’t have the first idea about starting up a business, you don’t have any money, no financial acumen, no bank would give you the start-up money – you just like fannying about with pink icing.’

I snorted childishly. ‘You said fanny.’

He rolled his eyes.

‘Well, maybe I’ll sell them at the market along the canal today.’ I said it as though it was a new thought, but really, apart from the adrenaline of clarity urging me on, I had the excitement of selling them at market at the back of my mind. I was being pro-active, creating work for myself when I didn’t have any, it’s what everybody was saying to do these days, surely my life would be proud.

‘That’s a great idea.’ He lit up and I immediately sensed the sarcasm. ‘Do you have your trader’s liability? Have you registered as a food business and complied with HSE/EHO standards?’ He looked around the flat. ‘Hmm. I wonder. Have you got your own stall? Booked a place to display your goods?’

‘No,’ I said quietly.

He opened his bag and then threw down a newspaper onto the counter. ‘Get real, read this.’ It was opened on the jobs page but all I could concentrate on was the fact that the corner of the page had landed in cream. Then he dunked his finger into the bowl of icing and licked his finger. His eyes lit up. ‘Mmm. Maybe you could open a cupcake restaurant after all.’

‘Really?’ I perked up, feeling hopeful.

‘No,’ he scowled at me. ‘But I’m taking this with me.’ He lifted a tray of cupcakes and brought them to the couch.

I smiled. ‘Oh, by the way, did Don call you?’

‘No, sorry,’ he said gently.

‘Okay. Not your fault.’ Then I got back to work.

Life was scoffing cupcakes and shouting at the Jeremy Kyle Show when there was a knock on the door. I opened it and immediately slammed it closed again. Life paused the television and looked at me in alarm.

‘What’s wrong?’

I panicked, trying to motion to the door and act out landlord in sign language. He didn’t catch on so I ran around the apartment trying to catch Mr Pan who thought it was a game, while all the time my landlord’s knocking turned into banging. Eventually I scooped him up and locked him in the bathroom. Life looked at me with a cupcake paused midway to his open lips.

‘Am I next? If you want some time alone you should just say.’

‘No,’ I hissed. I answered the door to my landlord who was red in the face with anger at being ignored.

‘Charlie,’ I smiled. ‘Sorry about the delay, I just had some things lying around. Personal woman things of a personal nature.’

His eyes narrowed suspiciously at me. ‘Can I come in?’

‘Why?’

‘It’s my apartment.’

‘Yes, but you can’t just storm in here unannounced. I live here. I have rights.’

‘I’ve heard reports that you’ve a cat in here.’

‘A cat? Me? No! I’m completely allergic to cats, my arms get all rashy and scratchy and I hate the little buggers. Cats – not my arms – I’ve been working on them for years.’ I showed him my muscles.

‘Lucy,’ he said in a warning tone.

‘What?’

‘Let me in so I can take a look.’

I hesitated, then slowly pulled the door wider. ‘Okay, but you can’t go into the toilet.’

‘Why not?’ He stepped in and looked around like the child-catcher.

‘Her mother has diarrhoea,’ Life said, kneeling up on the couch. ‘She wouldn’t take very kindly to you breaking and entering.’

‘I’m not breaking and entering, I’m the landlord. Who are you?’

‘Not a cat. I’m her life.’

Charlie looked at him dubiously.

Thankfully, the baking had gotten rid of the cat smell that I never noticed because I was so used to it but that the cat-catcher would sniff out in an instant. Then I remembered Mr Pan’s bed and litter box.

‘What’s going on here?’ Charlie asked, surveying the plates of baked goods which dominated every surface.

‘Oh, that? I’m just baking, why don’t you taste some?’ I guided him to the furthest point of the room where he’d have his back to me and handed him a spoon. Then I rushed around the corner to kick Mr Pan’s bed under mine. He turned around just as I’d finished. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously and pointed the fork at me.

‘Are you up to something?’

‘Like what?’

‘Have you a licence to do this?’

‘Why would I need one? I’m just baking.’

‘There’s an awful lot of food in here. Who are you going to give it to?’

‘She wants to open a cupcake shop,’ Life said.

Charlie’s eyes narrowed. ‘I saw that in a film last night. That was in New York, it would never work here. And if the guy really wanted her back he should have done it before she became a success, instead of bursting into the shop in front of all the customers. I didn’t trust his motivations.’

‘Really?’ I settled down on the back of the couch, happy to have the debate. ‘Because I thought they were perfect for each other and the fact that her friend and his friend got together too really showed that—’

Mr Pan started miaowing in the bathroom. And then my mum breezed in the open door and I knew I was royally screwed.

‘What is this wondrous smell? Oh, Lucy, how fantastic! If I ever eventually decide to marry your blasted father will you please bake my cake? Wouldn’t that be splendid?’ Then she noticed Charlie and thinking she was being welcomed into my world of secrets and friends she held her hand out. ‘Oh, hello, I’m Lucy’s mother. It’s lovely to meet you.’

He looked at me with interest. ‘So who’s in there?’

Mum took back her hand, as though she’d been stung.

‘In where?’

‘In the toilet?’

‘Oh … that’s …’ I couldn’t lie in front of my life. He owed at least three truths at this stage, but I didn’t need to think of anything because Mr Pan mewed again, loudly and perfectly audible.

‘Why, that’s Mr Pan!’ Mum said, astonished. ‘However did he get in there?’