Late spring bled imperceptibly into early summer and Stevie basked in the knowledge she was actually making a go of things. Business was brisk, with her regulars in the morning and hikers and ramblers throughout the day. She’d started offering snacks as an addition to the cakes and pastries, and she was in the middle of making a batch of lentil and vegetable pasties when she heard a strident voice in the tea shop.
‘Too much sugar, that’s the problem. I don’t know why we come in here.’
Stevie put the rolling pin down and edged closer to the door. Through the crack between the door and the frame, she could see a familiar gaggle of women at a table in one of the bay windows. They visited the tea shop every Tuesday and Thursday after doing the school run and usually had a slice of cake and a coffee each. Except for the one who’d just spoken – green tea for her, and she always turned her nose up at the delicious array of yumminess in the display counter.
‘Because there’s nowhere else to go?’ one of the other women suggested, in a timid voice.
‘Nonsense! I’m sure there are other, more suitable places.’
‘Saffron loves it here,’ another said. ‘I bring her for a treat on Saturdays when I collect my meat from the butchers.’
‘All children love sugar if they’re allowed.’ The strident voice was scathing. ‘No wonder they’re getting fat and lethargic.’
Stevie shuffled, trying to see Saffron’s mum. The woman looked chagrined, as if she’d just been told off by a bossy headmistress.
‘I don’t mean your children,’ the obnoxious mum added, with enough saccharin in her voice to sweeten a ten-tier wedding cake. ‘I mean children in general. I never give my two anything artificial and certainly nothing with the white death in it.’
Stevie’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head. White death? She sincerely hoped Obnoxious Mum didn’t give her children drugs— Oh, the woman meant refined sugar, Stevie realised, with a shake of her head. White death, indeed! How ridiculous. A sweet treat now and again never hurt anyone. Stevie had to admit though, that now and again was hard to stick to when it came to her products. They were simply too good not to be moreish.
Cassandra was deliberately not getting involved in the conversation, Stevie noticed, calmly taking orders and serving the drinks, but Stevie saw the effort it was costing her by the hardening of her friend’s jaw and the set of her shoulders.
‘I wouldn’t bring my two anywhere near this place. It’s as bad as making them eat fast food.’ Obnoxious Mum shot a scornful glance at one of the other mothers, who bent her head and appeared to find the contents of her coffee cup extremely fascinating.
‘It was just the once though, wasn’t it, Bev?’ Timid Mum said to the one who had just been so roundly chastised. ‘I’m sure you’d never do it again.’
Bev shook her head vehemently. ‘It was a one-off, a cousin’s birthday party. There was a play area. I couldn’t say no. Besides, Claude hated it. He had one chip, sorry fry, and left the rest.’
Even Stevie, from her odd angle behind the kitchen door, could tell Bev was lying through her dentist-perfect, alarmingly-white teeth. She bet the kid had wolfed down every mouthful and demanded more. Not that Stevie condoned too much fast food (although she was partial to a particular brand of pizza herself, especially when it was delivered right to her door so she didn’t have to change out of her pyjamas and go fetch it), but once in a while was OK.
‘You’re not seriously going to eat that, are you?’ Obnoxious Mum belted out.
Stevie squinted, trying to see what the woman was referring to. “That” was a Religieuse – two tiers of fluffy choux pastries, each filled with chocolate crème pâtissière, and covered in a generous ganache, also chocolate. A swirl of buttercream icing topped it off. It was a food group all on its own and absolutely delicious, even if Stevie did say so herself. What could possibly be wrong with it?
‘Er…’ The fourth woman in the quartet, who had so far managed to escape Obnoxious Mum’s notice, stared down at her plate. She looked like a rabbit caught in headlights.
‘You’d be better off with a few less calories, wouldn’t you say?’ Obnoxious Mum was the slimmest of the little group of mothers and obviously proud of the fact. She was done up to the nines, too, as if she was off to a board meeting. Maybe she was, Stevie thought. Perhaps dropping the kids off at school and having a quick pit-stop with her friends (although Stevie wasn’t sure the others thought of her as a “friend”, if their body language was anything to go by), was a prelude to a high-flying day filled with important business decisions and meetings.
Obnoxious Mum turned to Cassandra. ‘Do you have anything gluten-free? Oh, and I don’t want refined sugar in it, either.’
‘Try one of our savoury scones,’ Cassandra suggested in a deceptively pleasant voice. Stevie wished she could see her assistant’s face – she’d bet any money it had a fake smile plastered on it.
‘What’s in it?’ The degree of suspicion in Obnoxious Mum’s voice couldn’t be any greater than if Cassandra had suggested she eat rat poison.
Oh no, talking of unwanted pests, Stevie spotted Peggy slinking through the tea shop, aiming for her favourite place on the windowsill. At least five times a day either Stevie or Cassandra had to retrieve the cat from the windowsill and put her back upstairs. Stevie had yet to figure out how the feline escaped from the flat, but what she did know was that animals in places where food was prepared and served, was a no-no.
Taking a deep breath, Stevie marched into the shop, brushing the flour from her hands. ‘Hi, I’m Stevie, the owner. Can I just say, I use the freshest ingredients possible in my cooking. The savoury scones are an excellent choice – gluten-free and the cheese is local, extra-strong and rich.’
Obnoxious Mum shuddered. ‘Did you say “cheese”? I’ll have you know I’m lactose intolerant. Are you trying to kill me?’
I’m trying to put some flesh on your skinny bones, Stevie wanted to say, realising the slimness she’d noticed from afar was more akin to Skeletor than a Vogue model when viewed up close. The woman could do with a damned good meal inside her.
‘I must admit, it narrows the field a bit,’ Stevie said. ‘How about a chocolate nut ball?’
‘Excuse me, but I hardly think chocolate is sugar-free.’ Obnoxious Mum delivered her observation tartly then glanced at her companions with a triumphant smirk.
Stevie narrowed her eyes. Game on! She was well aware some people had dietary restrictions and she had been experimenting with various recipes purely aimed at that market. The chocolate nut balls had only gone on sale that very morning and were clearly labelled – if Obnoxious Mum had bothered to get down off her high horse and bothered to read it.
‘They’re made with raw organic cocoa powder,’ Stevie said. ‘The sweetness comes from the shredded coconut and I use almond butter instead of the dairy version. They are gluten-free, sugar-free, and dairy free. Have one on the house. In fact, why don’t all you ladies try one? I’ll bring some over.’ And with that Stevie strode over to the counter and plated up a handful of the little dark brown balls. They looked a little poo-like, as if a rather large rabbit had done something unmentionable, so in order to make them appear a little more appetising, Stevie added a generous dollop of creamy Greek yoghurt.
‘Here you go, ladies.’ She put the plate in the centre of the table.
‘They look lovely,’ the woman with the Religieuse in front of her said. The other two eyed the plate timidly, waiting for Obnoxious Mum to make the first move.
‘You eat it, if you want to,’ she said to her companions. ‘I’ll stick with my green tea. That,’ she paused dramatically, ‘looks positively laden with calories.’
Stevie turned away from the table and rolled her eyes. There was simply no pleasing some people.
‘I’ll have it, if they don’t want it,’ a voice in the corner said.
Stevie glanced over her shoulder and saw Betty eying up the chocolate balls with a hungry look. ‘I’ll make you a plate of your own,’ she offered and dived behind the counter.
Cassandra had her back to the room and was pretending to fiddle with Bert. ‘You should make that awful woman a plate of fresh air,’ she muttered, her voice cracking. ‘Tell her it’s a new recipe.’
‘Shhh! Stop it. Can you grab Peggy while I take Betty a plate of chocolate nut balls? And stop laughing,’ Stevie added. ‘It’s not funny.’ Stevie didn’t know whether to feel sorry for Obnoxious Mum, to be annoyed with her, or to laugh at her.
Cassandra took a steadying breath and squared her shoulders, before she faced the room. ‘I can’t see Peggy,’ she said, after a pause.
‘She was heading towards her favourite spot on the window sill. Hurry, I don’t want to give Obnoxious Mum any ammunition.’
Cassandra shot Stevie an amused glance. ‘Obnoxious Mum, as you call her,’ Cassandra let out a snort, ‘is Allegra Johnson, and she’s a nasty piece of work. You handled her well, though.’ She glanced at the window sills. ‘I still can’t see Peggy.’
Neither could Stevie, and as she took the nut balls over to Betty, she scanned the tea shop as she went. Nope, no sign of the cat, and she breathed a sigh of relief. It must have gone back to the flat.
‘A piece of advice,’ Betty said, after taking a mouthful of chocolate nut balls and closing her eyes in delight as the flavours exploded on her tongue. ‘Don’t let the whiners get to you. You can’t please all the people all of the time, and you can’t please that one,’ she jerked her head at the quartet, ‘any of the time. My lovely, this is really good.’
‘Thank you,’ Stevie said. ‘I’m glad you like it.’
‘You lot don’t know what you’re missing,’ Betty called, waving her spoon at the group of mothers. ‘Bloody gorgeous, this is.’
Allegra Jonson stuck her nose in the air and turned away from Betty, but the one called Bev picked up her spoon to give the chocolate nut balls a go, only to put it swiftly down again when she caught Allegra’s eye.
‘Another piece of advice,’ Betty said to Stevie, diving in for a second mouthful. ‘Change the name – chocolate nut balls puts all kind of images in my head.’
Stevie blanched, then blushed. Oh, Lordy, Betty was right, and the teenagers who sometimes came in after school would have a field day with a name like that. What had she been thinking?
‘Thanks,’ she said to Betty, patting her on the shoulder.
She stepped back and something let out an indignant yowl. Stevie muffled a shriek, knowing exactly what had made the noise and glanced behind her just in time to see a sleek, black shape dart through the kitchen door. Stevie caught a final glimpse of tail before Peggy scooted up the stairs.
When she checked to see if any of her customers had noticed, Stevie was disconcerted to see Allegra staring furiously at her.