Читать книгу Millie Vanilla’s Cupcake Café - Georgia Hill - Страница 21

The following Saturday Millie locked up the café for the afternoon and went along to the grand opening of Blue Elephant. As she flipped the sign to, ‘I’m so sorry, you’ve missed our lovely cakes!’ and turned the key, her heart sank into her Doc Martens. The café had been as silent as a tomb and just as gloomy all morning. She was in no danger of losing trade by closing early. Even the weather refused to sympathise. It was a gloriously fresh and blue day and the sun beat down hard on the concrete of the promenade. Millie shoved on her heart-shaped sunglasses and hid behind her hair. This wasn’t going to be easy.

As she neared the steepest part of the high street there was an air of palpable excitement. Approaching Blue Elephant itself she was accosted by someone in, of course, a blue elephant costume. He gave some passing children a bunch of blue balloons and thrust a glossy leaflet into her hands. It was, inevitably, elephant-shaped and exclaimed she could get a free muffin with her coffee today. Passing the acoustic trio cheerfully playing ’Nellie the Elephant‘, she went in. No expense had been spared for the launch, it seemed.

She paused for a moment to get her bearings. No trace of the old bank remained. Instead, the entrance hall rose uninterrupted to the ceiling, with a mezzanine level running around half. A spiral staircase led up to the second floor and it had been discovered by the town’s teenagers, who were running up and down, shrieking and giggling. The walls of the café were painted a chalky blue and there was a stunning abstract ammonite-themed mural on one. It had streaks of denim blue and sandy yellow, which was echoed in the striped material covering the banquettes and chairs. Millie took a breath. She’d half-hoped for more naff blue elephants or a cartoon theme. She was disappointed. Even she had to admit the decor was supremely tasteful. And the place was packed. Of course it was. It was the reason why Millie Vanilla’s had been empty all day.

Zoe appeared at her elbow. She tugged her arm. ‘Hi, Mil. Come to vet the competition?’

Millie gave her a weak grin and nodded.

‘Hand over your voucher and I’ll grab us some coffee. Quick, there’s a free table over there.’ Zoe pointed in the direction of a table where two customers were just leaving.

Millie made her way over to it, saying hello and goodbye to the people she knew as she went. Lots of them were her regulars. Perching on the very edge of a bench, she waited for Zoe and looked around. Mr and Mrs Levi, who ran the bed and breakfast on the front waved, as did Percy the butcher, who was sitting with Dean from the White Bear. Millie murmured a greeting to Dave Curzon from the newsagent and to Lola, his girlfriend, who ran a veggie restaurant in nearby Colyton. Even the Simpsons from the Lord of the Manor were here.

Zoe returned, with Sean in tow. They were carrying polystyrene cups of coffee and a paper plate of muffins.

No pretty mismatched pink flowery crockery here, Millie thought bitterly. And no washing up either. But, then again, it was not very eco-friendly. A little glimmer of hope dawned. Maybe that was something she could emphasise at Millie Vanilla’s? She was careful to use eco-friendly and reusable products.

Sean found Zoe a chair and toed it over for her to sit down. The girl looked around, a half-impressed, half-horrified expression on her face. ‘Awesome, isn’t it?’

Sean agreed with a muttered, ‘Well sick.’

Zoe sniggered at him. She turned to Millie. ‘Do you want the bad news or the really bad news?’ She pushed a coffee over.

Millie couldn’t trust herself to answer. She took a sip of her latte instead. It was delicious. Pinching off some muffin she found that was good too.

Zoe, watching her with concern, said, ‘That’s the one bit of bad news. The coffee and cake is good. The other bad news is they’ve got a barista from Rome.’ Her eyes widened. ‘A real-life Italian barista here in Berecombe. And to top all that, he’s bloody gorg!’

Millie pushed her food away. How could she hope to compete with all this? She felt like crying.

Zoe put her hand on hers. ‘Don’t worry, Mil,’ she said stoutly. ‘It’s busy today ’cos people are getting freebies. And there’s the novelty value, of course. But it won’t last. Things will settle down.’

‘Will they?’

‘’Course they will. Can’t see old Biddy or Granddad in here, can you? Or the knitting circle.’ She leaned closer. ‘And here’s the killer, they don’t let dogs in. That’ll reduce their trade by at least half come the tourist season. Chillax, Mil.’

Millie looked around. At the happy faces, at the buzzy atmosphere, at the children running about trailing blue balloons. Looking at the glossy dark-wood tables, the chandelier tinkling from the ceiling, the state of the art coffee-making machines, she despaired. In comparison, Millie Vanilla’s seemed all at once dated, shabby and insufferably twee.

Her misery was interrupted by Sean exclaiming he’d just seen his mum go through a door marked ‘Private’, accompanied by a bloke in a suit. Millie’s mood worsened. What the hell was Tessa doing here? And, more importantly, what was she doing having talks with the enemy?