Christmas at the Cupcake Café

Austin hadn’t spoken to Merv. He looked at her carefully.

‘Hmm,’ he said. ‘But we’re going back to London.’

‘It’s raining in London, though, isn’t it?’ said Issy carefully. ‘And we’d probably make a bit of money renting out your house. And mine, when Ashok and Helena move. Unless he gets her pregnant again, in which case she’s going to kill him and then they’ll split up.’

Austin kept his face completely neutral.

‘It would be nice,’ said Issy, ‘to give Maya a full-time job. Her post office job has gone now, and she’s such an asset. And with Pearl and Caroline getting on so well …’

Austin coughed at that.

‘Comparatively speaking …’

Issy had been doing a lot of thinking over the last few days, now that she was finally rested. A lot.

Austin looked at her. She was lying on the white bed, looking luscious and pale and beautiful, and he didn’t think he’d ever seen anything he liked quite as much.

‘Mmm,’ he said.

Issy looked at him steadily. ‘Well, I suppose … a couple of years in the world’s greatest city, with Darny at the world’s greatest school … it might not be too bad …’

Austin’s eyes widened. ‘We don’t have to. I’m ready to go back. Well, I don’t care. I just want to be where you are.’

Issy closed her eyes. She could see it in her head. The Cupcake Café. She could hear the jangle of the bell, and Pearl’s throaty laugh as she grabbed the mop in the morning; she could see Caroline’s taut face complaining about the price of ski holidays these days. She saw herself dancing to Capital Radio and feeling Louis’ warm arms around her knees as he dashed in with a new picture for the back wall. She could remember the faces of so many of her customers; recall the day she’d first seen the menus back from the printers; how it had started out as a dream but had become real. Her Cupcake Café.

But it was real. It wasn’t a dream. It wouldn’t vanish if she stopped looking at it. It wouldn’t suddenly disappear in a puff of smoke. Pearl was ready – more than ready – to step into her managerial shoes, and Maya’s frantic practising and obsessive attention to detail boded well for her recipes. And Caroline would just be Caroline, she supposed. She couldn’t do much about that. But she could leave now, confident that it could work, it could run without her. And maybe she could help the person she loved with his new life too. The café would, she fervently hoped, never change. But they could.

‘I want to be here,’ she said. ‘Where it’s best for Darny. And close to Mum. But mostly … for us, Austin. You are us. It’s great for us. And it will be great for me. I believe that. It’s all decided. I’ll go back once a month or so, check up on everything, make sure no one’s killed anyone else, but for a couple of years … we’d be mad not to try the adventure. I’ve changed my life once already. I think I’ve got a taste for it now.’

Austin took her in his arms. ‘I will devote my entire life to making it amazing for you,’ he said.

‘You don’t have to,’ said Issy, glancing towards the window, at the lights and the life and the buzzing, glittery, jittery streets. ‘It already is.’

He stopped and thought. Then thought some more.

‘You know,’ he said. ‘You won’t be able to work here without a green card.’

Now it was Issy’s turn to be surprised.

‘Oh no? I thought, maybe in just a caf …’

‘Nope,’ he said. ‘And normally they’re quite hard to get.’

‘Mmm?’

‘Unless you’re … with someone who has one.’ He nuzzled her neck. ‘You know, in all the madness, I never got you a Christmas present.’

‘Oh no, you didn’t!’ said Issy. ‘I forgot! I want one!’

‘You know what they sell lots of in New York?’

‘Dreams? Ice skates? Pretzels?’

He looked at her pensively. ‘Aim higher.’

She looked back at him without saying anything, but her fingers unconsciously strayed to her little diamond earrings.

‘That’s it,’ said Austin. ‘You need something to go with those earrings. Definitely. But maybe … on your finger?’

And they dressed warmly, and walked out hand in hand into the sharp, bright, exciting future of a honking, buzzing New York morning.

Back in London, Pearl looked at the post-lunch rush happily poking their fingers at the New Year range of apple and raisin cupcakes; rose blossom for the eventual spring; discounted gingerbread for the last few Christmas addicts, beautifully put together by Maya, and smiled.

‘Cappuccino’s up!’ she yelled.