Читать книгу The Naughty Girls Book Club - Sophie Hart - Страница 12

The delicious smell of baking filled the flat; an intoxicating blend of warm scones, freshly mixed chocolate brownies and rich coffee cake. The windows had steamed up from the heat of the oven, the atmosphere cosy as Estelle moved busily around the kitchen, humming away to Radio Bristol which was playing quietly in the background. She peered through the door of the oven to check on her cupcakes which were rising nicely, then moved back to the cluttered work surface, pouring a large bowl of cookie dough into the food mixer and turning it on.

The living space above Cafe Crumb was small and comprised of two bedrooms – one each for Estelle and Joe – and a bathroom, with the front door opening directly into the tiny living-cum-dining room. But by far the largest room was the kitchen; Estelle had had it specially extended, she needed the extra space for all the baking she did for the cafe. It was undeniably hard work – every night after the shop closed Estelle would whip up fresh batches of a dozen different cakes and sweets, ready to sell the next day. On Sundays, after watching Joe play football, the rest of Estelle’s day would be taken up with making industrial-sized quantities of pastry to freeze and use later in the week, as well as preparing stock for the next day and putting the last week’s accounts in order. Sometimes it seemed never-ending.

But Estelle enjoyed her hectic routine. There was something calming and deeply satisfying about weighing all the ingredients, mixing the dough and rolling it out, then loading everything into the oven and seeing the alchemy which took place as buns rose like magic, and pastry turned flaky and golden.

This Tuesday evening, with Joe away at the U15 match in Bath, Estelle was on her own. Tony had picked him up in the early afternoon and would be dropping him back soon, Estelle realised, as she checked the clock on the wall.

She sprinkled the counter top with flour and had just begun rolling out the cookie dough when she heard Joe’s key in the lock.

Estelle came out of the kitchen to greet him, brushing her hands on her flour-covered apron.

‘How’d it go, love?’ she asked, as he sauntered in, leaving the front door open.

‘Fine. We won,’ he replied with a grin, as Estelle shrieked in delight.

‘You little star!’ she exclaimed, running over to give him a hug. Joe endured his mother’s squeezes for a few seconds, before wriggling free.

‘Oh, I nearly forgot, Tony’s here,’ he added casually, grabbing a muffin from the rack that was cooling on the side before disappearing into his bedroom.

‘What? Joe—’ Estelle began in confusion. She stepped forwards and saw Tony standing outside the front door, waiting at the top of the metal stairway that led directly up to the flat from street level. He was wearing dark jogging bottoms with a grey hooded fleece, and the sporty look emphasised his fit, strong body. Much to Estelle’s shame, she realised that since reading Ten Sweet Lessons she’d begun paying far more attention to the male physique, and her eyes scanned over him appreciatively.

‘I’m so sorry about that, do come in,’ Estelle told him, suddenly very aware that her face was flushed from the heat of the oven and she was wearing her scruffiest old clothes.

‘That’s alright,’ Tony waved away her apology.

‘I can’t believe Joe left you outside like that! I’ll have a word with him later,’ she promised, as she smoothed back her hair, conscious of what a state she must look.

‘Oh, it’s no problem,’ he repeated. ‘I know what teenagers can be like.’

‘Well, thanks so much for dropping him back,’ Estelle said gratefully. ‘What was the score? He didn’t even tell me.’

‘Six-four,’ Tony beamed. ‘It was a great match, and Joe scored a hat-trick.’

‘Did he?’ Estelle exclaimed, thrilled. ‘Oh, I wish I’d been there.’

‘You’d have been very proud. He’s a great little player.’

‘I’m just pleased that he’s found something he’s so passionate about. I wish he got that excited about doing his homework,’ Estelle laughed. ‘Can I get you anything to drink?’ she offered, realising that they were standing awkwardly just inside the door. ‘A cup of tea or coffee? Something stronger?’

‘I’d better not,’ Tony declined. ‘I’ve got Chris waiting outside in the car, so I can’t stay long. I just wanted to come up with Joe and make sure he got in okay.’

‘Oh, of course,’ Estelle nodded. ‘But at least let me give you some cakes to say thank you. I’ve just made a fresh batch of Chelsea buns,’ she told him, moving through to the kitchen. ‘You said they were your favourites – is that right?’

‘Well remembered,’ Tony beamed, as he followed her, his eyes lighting up at the rows of cakes arranged on wire cooling trays. ‘I suppose it would be impolite to refuse.’

‘Absolutely,’ Estelle agreed, as she picked up two enormous Chelsea buns, bursting with fruit and coated in icing. ‘Now I’ve only just finished glazing these, so they’ll still be a bit sticky. I’ll give you a couple – one for Christopher too,’ she explained, as she slotted them in a paper bag and expertly twisted the corners so that the paper sat safely above them.

‘Mmm, they smell wonderful. It’s a real operation you’ve got going here,’ Tony observed, staring round appreciatively at the piles of meringues, fairy cakes and flapjacks. ‘Like I said, I didn’t realise you owned Cafe Crumb. I’ll definitely start popping in more often.’

‘Oh you must,’ Estelle insisted. ‘And Lord knows I could do with the extra business.’

‘Things a little quiet, are they?’ Tony asked gently.

‘Oh, it’s nothing to worry about,’ Estelle replied quickly, wondering why on earth she’d opened her mouth in the first place. ‘This time of year is always quiet. It’ll pick up when the weather gets warmer,’ she said brightly.

There was a beat of silence, and Estelle thrust the bag of buns towards him. ‘Here you go.’

‘Thank you,’ he replied warmly. ‘I’ll certainly look forward to these.’

‘You’re very welcome.’

‘Is your husband not around today?’ Tony asked, as he headed towards the door.

‘My husband?’ Estelle replied, looking confused.

‘Yes – the man who was at the match the other Sunday.’ Now it was Tony’s turn to look discomfited. ‘Oh, I’m sorry. Have I said something I shouldn’t? You’re usually together at training, and I thought he was Joe’s dad, but are you two not …?’

‘Oh,’ Estelle laughed, trying to ease the tension. ‘We’re divorced,’ she explained. ‘We’re very lucky to be on such good terms, to be honest. We get on much better now we’re not married.’

‘I see,’ Tony nodded. ‘I’m sorry – I just assumed.’

‘Nothing to be sorry about,’ Estelle brushed off his concern. ‘Ted remarried a couple of years ago. In fact, his new wife, Leila, is expecting a baby. I spoke to Joe about it the other day – Ted thought it might be better coming from me – and he’s been a bit quiet since. I hope he’s alright. It must be a bit strange for him.’

‘And you too, I’d have thought,’ Tony said softly. ‘I wouldn’t worry too much about Joe,’ he continued. ‘Chris is just the same – holed up in his bedroom most of the time, and pretty uncommunicative when he is around. I’m sure it’s just a regular teenage thing.’

‘Thanks, Tony,’ Estelle smiled, looking relieved. ‘I’m sure you’re right. After all …’ She broke off, and began sniffing the air. ‘Can you smell–’

Her words were interrupted by a deafening beeping noise, causing Estelle to let out a loud squeal and clamp her hands over her ears. She dashed into the kitchen, to see black smoke billowing from the oven.

‘Oh no!’ she exclaimed, as she grabbed her oven gloves and wrenched open the door, pulling out a tray of what looked like lumps of coal – the charred remains of the cupcakes she’d placed in there earlier.

Quickly, she flung the windows open, pushing them as wide as they would go and fanning the smoke outside. Tony followed her lead, then yelled over the noise, ‘Where’s your smoke alarm?’

‘Out here,’ Estelle shouted back, as she ran into the living room and pointed at the ceiling, dragging a chair over from the dining table.

‘It’s fine, I can reach it,’ Tony assured her, as he stretched up to press the button. In spite of the unfolding crisis, Estelle couldn’t help but notice the sharply defined muscles of his stomach as his jumper rode up, or the smattering of dark hair leading down from his navel and disappearing beneath the waistband of his jogging bottoms …

‘Estelle?’ came a shout from outside. ‘Estelle, are you okay?’

The front door burst open and Ted stood there, looking around anxiously as he took in the clouds of smoke and screaming alarm. At that moment, Tony hit the off button and the loud wailing stopped, their ears taking a second to adjust to the silence.

‘Is everything okay?’ Ted demanded, his breath coming fast from his short sprint up the stairs. His hair was a mess, and he looked older than Estelle remembered.

‘All sorted now,’ Tony assured him.

‘I don’t know what’s the matter with me today,’ Estelle began, feeling unusually flustered – whether from the narrowly averted fire, Ted’s unexpected arrival, or the sight of Tony’s muscular body, she couldn’t say. ‘I always set the timer on the oven, just in case, but I must have forgotten.’

‘Something must have distracted you,’ Ted said, looking suspiciously at Tony.

Estelle sensed the uneasy atmosphere, although she had no idea why Ted was behaving that way. ‘Tony just dropped Joe off,’ she explained. ‘You remember last week at the football he said he’d bring him back after the match. They won – six, four.’

‘Well, that’s great.’ The faintest hint of a smile appeared, Ted’s face softening somewhat at the news.

‘How are you doing?’ Tony asked pleasantly, as he strode across to shake Ted’s hand.

‘Very well, thank you,’ Ted replied, all three of them standing there awkwardly once more.

‘Did you want something?’ Estelle addressed Ted, utterly at a loss as to why he’d just appeared in her house.

‘Oh … Well I was just passing,’ Ted began, seeming somewhat taken aback by the question. ‘I thought I’d bring these Nike trainers for Joe. He mentioned he wanted a pair when he was at mine the other week.’

‘Oh Ted, I wish you’d discuss these things with me,’ Estelle wailed. ‘I told him he couldn’t have them – he’s got more than enough pairs and he never wears half of them. It undermines what I say if you get him things regardless.’

Ted’s tone was defensive. ‘I just wanted to treat my own son, Estelle. It’s hardly a big deal.’

Estelle raised an eyebrow, biting back half a dozen responses. To her, it looked suspiciously like a guilt present – something to temper the news of Leila being pregnant – but she didn’t want to have it out with him while Tony was here. If anything, she was embarrassed that Tony had had to witness the scene between her and her ex, especially after she’d been telling him how well they got on now.

‘I think I’ll be making tracks,’ Tony said, sensing the atmosphere. ‘If you’re sure you’ll be okay?’ he added, his gaze trained on Estelle.

‘I’ll be fine,’ she smiled, her stomach feeling strangely fluttery inside at the way he was looking at her.

Ted was watching their exchange with a growing sense of annoyance. ‘Of course she’ll be fine – we used to be married.’

‘I know.’ Tony looked amused. ‘I just meant after the fire – I didn’t mean with you.’

‘Oh … well …’ Ted made a series of harrumphing noises, but had the good grace to look embarrassed as Estelle shot him a sharp look.

‘And don’t forget these,’ Estelle added, pressing the Chelsea buns into Tony’s hands. Their fingers brushed, and she jumped back in alarm, her cheeks flaming. ‘Thanks so much for all your help,’ she managed breathlessly.

‘All part of the service,’ he grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners. ‘I’ll see you both at football practice no doubt – unless I pop past the cafe first,’ he added to Estelle.

‘Make sure you do,’ she trilled, closing the door as he headed down the stairs.

‘What are you smiling about?’ Ted asked, narrowing his eyes.

‘Nothing. What are you talking about?’ she shot back defensively. ‘And why are you being so strange today? You’ve had a weird attitude since the moment you walked in.’

Ted simply shook his head, as though refusing to answer her question. ‘He seems very friendly,’ he continued, nodding towards the door where Tony had just departed.

‘Yes, he does. He seems like a nice man,’ Estelle replied, attempting to hold eye contact with Ted, and hoping her blushes wouldn’t give her away. Because the truth was, she was beginning to think that Tony was a very nice man indeed.