Meet Me at the Cupcake Café

Des shook his head.

‘What … what … Have you just slipped him something?’

The woman fortunately didn’t understand.

‘He is very tired.’ She looked at Des. ‘You too are very tired,’ she said, kindly.

Suddenly, and very uncharacteristically, Des thought he was about to burst into tears. He hadn’t even cried when Jamie was born; not since his father had died. But somehow …

‘I am … a little tired,’ he said suddenly, slumping down next to her on the sofa.

‘What did you do?’ asked Issy, amazed. It had been like magic.

‘Um …’ said the woman, clearly searching for the English words. ‘Hmm. Let me see. It is like the tiger in the tree.’

They both looked at her.

‘When little babies have sore tummies … then they like to lie like the tiger in the tree. It helps their tummies.’

And sure enough, Jamie did look like a sleepy cat drooping happily over a branch. Expertly, the woman transferred him to his pram on his tummy.

‘Uh,’ said Des, anxious to show that he did, at least, know the first thing about parenting, ‘you’re not meant to put them on their stomachs.’

The woman fixed him with a strict look.

‘Babies with sore tummies sleep better on tummies. You watch him. He not die.’

It had to be said that Jamie looked as utterly blissful as only a tiny baby fast asleep can look. His pale pink pillowing lips were open and only a gentle, tiny lifting of his narrow back could be seen. The woman took the blanket and tucked him in fiercely and tight so he could barely move. Des, used to watching Jamie wrestle and squirm in his sleep like he was fighting an invisible enemy, could only stare.

‘I think I’ll have another cup of coffee,’ he said in a disbelieving tone. ‘And … er … do you think … would you mind passing,’ he gulped with amazement, ‘the newspaper?’

Issy smiled at the memory. Of course in the end it had netted her about four quid, but Des and the woman, whose name turned out to be Mira, had talked and got along rather well, and for a while at least there was a little hum of conversation in the café; the sound she’d been longing to hear. Then the ironmonger from next door had come up and studied the menu in the window for ages – agonizingly long – before heading off again. Issy had called a hello but he hadn’t answered. She was starting to hate the hideously slow beat of the clock. Two teenage girls had come in at lunchtime and carefully counted out enough for one chocolate and ginger cake between them and two glasses of water, but they’d gone by the time the door dinged at half past three. It was Helena.

‘That bad, huh?’ said Helena.

Issy was amazed to find herself slightly irritated. She was never normally irritated by Helena, they’d been friends for so long. But for her to turn up now, just as she was feeling her most unsuccessful, seemed almost cruel.

‘Hey,’ said Helena. ‘How’s it going?’

‘Would you like an unsold cupcake?’ said Issy, slightly more sharply than she’d intended.

‘Yes,’ said Helena, and took out her wallet.

‘Put your wallet away,’ said Issy. ‘I have to throw them out at the end of the day anyway, for health and safety.’

Helena raised her eyebrows. ‘Be quiet. I won’t hear of it. I shouldn’t really be eating these anyway. Although I did go up another cup size, so there’s a bonus.’

‘A cupcake size!’ said Issy. ‘Ha ha. I am, at least, still hilarious.’

‘Why don’t you close up early, we’ll go home and watch Grosse Pointe Blank and then phone all our old friends who don’t phone us any more and tell them we’re having a lie-in tomorrow when they have to get up at five am and heat bottles?’

‘That is tempting,’ said Issy regretfully. ‘But I can’t. We’re open till four thirty today.’

‘So what about the “I am master of my own destiny and can do what I like” thing? I thought that was the point of running your own business.’

‘And,’ said Issy, ‘I have to cash up and go through my weekly accounts.’

‘Well, that’s not going to take long, is it?’

‘Helena?’

‘Too harsh?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’ll buy the wine.’

‘Fine.’

‘Fine.’ Just then the bell dinged again.

Austin looked round the shop warily. He knew they were just starting out, but nonetheless it would have been nice to see a few people here, and Issy maybe moving her butt a bit to get things done rather than sitting up at the counter mooning with her girlfriend.

Darny was at jungle gym, and Austin was having one of those realizations he had with wearying predictability, when he got the horrible feeling he’d forgotten something important and had to struggle to remember what it was. After their parents died, Austin had been advised by the social worker handling the guardianship that he should talk to a therapist. The therapist had suggested that being disorganized was at some level a cry for help for his parents to come back and sort him out, and recommended he didn’t look for a life partner to do the same. Austin suspected this was total bollocks, but that still didn’t help when, as had happened half an hour ago, he realized that he’d lost his copy of the shop rental agreement and if he didn’t get it for the files Janet was going to have his guts for garters.

‘Uh, hi there,’ he said.

Issy jumped up guiltily. What would be nice, she figured, would be if people involved with her business would come along when there were lots of people in. She wished obscurely that Helena wasn’t there, it didn’t look very professional. Especially with Helena nudging her and raising her eyebrows like Groucho Marx.

‘Hello!’ she said. ‘Would you like a cake for Darny?’

‘Giving away cakes?’ said Austin with a twinkle in his eye. ‘I’m sure that’s not in the business plan.’

‘You can’t have read it right,’ said Issy, suddenly feeling flustered. It was that grin of his. It was distractingly un-bank-like.

‘That’s right, I didn’t,’ agreed Austin. ‘How’s it going?’

‘Well, this is our soft launch,’ said Issy. ‘You know, obviously, it’s going to take a while to build up.’