Burned At The Bake

by Ashley Cain

  The cookery school hadn’t been a bad idea, and April had been more than willing to consider it, but she had quickly realised that with the size of the kitchen as it was it was never going to work without an injection of cash and a lot of remodelling. And April was prepared to do neither in the short term. She needed to make money not spend it. It was true that she had had a very good summer but, based on the last two winters, her income was going to drop by two thirds between October and March and so she would have to use some of the money that she had put aside to make up for that. She did though want to keep Rachel, not just because she liked her and a promise was a promise, but because she made the most amazing cakes that people came the length and breadth of Jersey to taste. She had even turned her grandmother’s seed cake recipe, which had been rather plain, in to something special with a few extra spices and lemon. As April stared at the fast-incoming tide she realised with a burst of excitement that there was another opportunity just waiting to be explored.

  In the winter her customers tended to visit in the morning and at lunchtime for full English breakfasts and warm pies or fish and chips. The main drop in income, as well as the natural lack of tourists, was seen because afternoons were a lot quieter. When it was cold and dark in an afternoon, people were reluctant to venture out for coffee and cake. That wasn’t to say the desire to eat cake wasn’t still there in people’s minds, just the opportunity. And that was possibly an opportunity that April, with Rachel’s help, could exploit.

  Rather than baking cakes for people to eat with a cup of tea and coffee in the afternoon, Rachel could make cakes for people to take home with them after they had eaten breakfast or lunch. Instead of the huge versions that she baked for the café and which you could cut in to sixteen generously sized portions, she could make smaller cakes for families to take home. And Rachel was a trained baker and didn’t only make cakes, she could make biscuits, tarts, sponge puddings. They could even try and expand and sell some to the local shops on this side of the island.

  The more April thought about it the better the idea seemed. If word got out that the Bluewater café had opened a bakery, then people may even come to buy a cake and have a spot of lunch at the same time. And there would be very little expense needed. In the winter the kitchen closed down for hot food at two and so Rachel could have the kitchen pretty much to herself in the afternoon and evening. With two big ovens she should be able create plenty of cakes a day, as well as trays of biscuits. It wasn’t baking on an industrial scale, but then it wasn’t intended to be. It was home baking. Like homemade but better, April murmured to herself, a marketing slogan already coming to mind.

  The only question April had, was whether Rachel would go for the idea, and how the other staff would feel about it. She would have to pay Rachel more money, she was paying her as a waitress as opposed to a baker, and both Miguel and James earned more money as cooks. But if she increased Rachel’s money so it was the same as the other two cooks, she should still be able to cover the increase with the sale of cakes. It should be a win- win all round as neither Martha, nor Hope, would have to decrease their hours, and she may even be able to offer Martha a few more if Rachel was covering no shifts as a waitress.

  Water at her feet brought April out of her thoughts. The tide had come in whilst she had been thinking and was now lapping around her ankles. She had been out longer than she intended. The first dinner guests would be arriving soon. Jumping up she ran across the sand and up the steps from the beach to the small road that ran past the front of the café. She wasn’t going to mention the idea yet to Rachel, she still wanted to think it through. She just hoped that Miguel and Martha didn’t kill each other before she had time to put the idea in to action.

  Chapter 5

  As April had feared, the Bluewater café was barely going to cover its costs this evening. Whilst she had been on the beach two couples had cancelled, probably April thought, because it was such a warm glorious evening and they had preferred to make the most of it in the garden at home. There were only thirteen people eating tonight spread across four tables. One of the tables was taken by Ivan Fletcher who, unusually, was not dining with a lady companion but eating with an older, very well-dressed couple who April had not seen before.

  Because there were so few diners, April had spread them out across the front of the café, so that each party was at a table by a window and had a view of the bay. Not only did this make the diners experience more enjoyable, but it made the waitresses job much easier as one took the right-hand side of the room and the other the left. Expecting it to be busier, April had kept both Rachel and Martha working this evening and she noticed with amusement that Martha had made sure that she was serving the left-hand side of the room, where Ivan Fletcher was sitting. She was in full on flirting mode, laughing and smiling each time Ivan spoke to her and displaying a full wattage smile. As April watched her take away the dessert plates, she noticed her lean in and whisper something to the older lady who answered back with a smile. It looked very personal, and April wondered with interest who the couple were and what the connection was between Ivan and them, and how Martha knew them. Miguel had mentioned more than once that Martha had been friendly with Ivan at one time, but April had never seen her interact with Ivan with anything more than a friendly professionalism. And yet tonight, when she had served this particular table, she had seemed different somehow. Friendlier. Almost intimate.

  Judging by the way the older couple were dressed, April was not surprised that she had not seen them here before. The older man wore a dark suit and tie, a pink rose at his lapel, whilst the woman was in an expensive looking burgundy dress, a string of pearls at her throat, her fingers covered in jewels that sparkled as they caught the last of the evening sun. April was under no illusions that her café was exactly what it said it was, a café. Despite the fact that she did evening meals a couple of evenings a week, she did not pretend or try to be a restaurant. Her evening menu changed weekly and was simple. On the weeks that Miguel was on, such as this evening, it took its influence from Portugal, where his grandparents lived, and where he himself had spent long summers as a child. In addition to the staples of fish and chips, and lobster with new potatoes, there were sardines, roasted cod and a fish stew filled with pieces of white fish, clams and mussels. Meat lovers were satisfied with Espetadas, thick pieces of beef on a skewer, or steak, and the vegetarians were catered for with stuffed peppers or a vegetarian quiche. For dessert, as well as Rachel’s cakes which people could enjoy with ice cream or thick jersey cream, Miguel had made pastel de nata, the custard tarts so famous in Portugal, and Jersey Wonders, crispy deep-fried doughnuts with a hot chocolate sauce. Judging by the clean plates and the hum of chatter in the café everyone was satisfied with what they had eaten.

  Ivan and his guests were getting up to leave, having been presented with their bill by Martha, and April hurried to the counter by the door so that they could settle up. She got the old lady’s cream cashmere shawl from the cupboard where she had hung the coats, and the lightweight designer raincoat for the older man. Ivan had not worn a coat and instead had a canary yellow sweater draped over his shoulders. His cold blue eyes appraised April as she handed him the bill.

  Despite the fact that Martha liked him, and he was often in the café during the day as well as in the evening, April and him had never really got on. For some reason, ever since she had taken over the café, she felt that he didn’t like her, and it surprised her that he visited so often when there were two other cafes in the harbour. The Bluewater café was the first café that visitors reached when they drove or walked in to Gull Bay, and therefore the closest to his house which was halfway up the hill on the one entry and exit road, but he didn’t strike her as someone who couldn’t walk the extra few hundred metres in to the harbour if he was inclined to do so. It was still a fifteen-minute walk down the hill for him to come in to the bay, and if he had taken the trouble to walk that far he could easily have walked past her café to one of th
e other two cafes by the harbour. And if, like tonight or when he had a date with one of the many different women he ate with, he wanted an evening meal there was a small pub right at the end of the harbour wall that did good hearty pub food. He always though seemed to choose the Bluewater café as his go to place for both food and drink.

  “Did you enjoy your meal?” April looked around the group as she asked the question to include all of them in the conversation.

  The old lady looked at her with the same pale blue coloured eyes as Ivan Fletcher, although on her they didn’t seem as devoid of warmth. April had not really been this close to them all evening, as they had arrived when she was in the kitchen and Martha had shown them to the table. Up close the similarity between her and Ivan was unmistakeable and April immediately wondered if they were related.

  “It was a lovely meal thank you dear” she answered with a smile. “Please give my compliments to Miguel, the lobster I had for my main course was perfectly cooked”.

  “And my fish and chips were fantastic” the old man chimed in smacking his lips together enthusiastically. “The batter was golden and crisp, not soggy like some of these places do it. Very rare to be able to get the batter just right. And those Jersey Wonders, years since I have had a Jersey Wonder. He managed to get them just like my own mother used to make”.

  “As you can probably guess my father is determined to thicken his waistline on his return to the island” Ivan said drily. “It is fortunate he is only here for a couple of weeks or I doubt we would get him to fit in his seat on the flight back home. My Espetada was excellent as always April, you must tell Miguel that I said so”. He pulled out a thick wad of notes from his jeans pockets and peeled off six twenties which he handed to April.

  “Welcome back to Jersey” April smiled at the couple as she dug around in the till for some change. “How long have you been away?”

  “We moved away over twenty years ago now, this is our first visit back”.

  “I imagine it has changed quite a bit” April shut the till drawer and handed four pound notes to Ivan who shoved them in his jean’s pockets. He looked ready to move on, but his father seemed keen to chat.

  “It has in St Helier, but not here. Gull Bay looks the same as it always has, except this café. You have made a few changes here; it is very different than when your grandmother had it”.

  “You remember it when my grandma had it?” April smiled. It was always nice to meet someone who knew her grandma. They normally had an anecdote or two to tell, not always pleasant ones but often funny.

  “I did. And your grandfather too. I was always telling them that they could do so much more here with the space that they had, but they wouldn’t listen. Not your grandmother anyway. Ruby was a one she was, set in her ways and wouldn’t change them. And I guess the older you get you realise that there is something to be said for that. She liked the simple life and nothing wrong with that”. He looked around at the café and nodded to himself. “But she could have done so much more”.

  “Thank you” April smiled at the old man. She knew herself how much work had gone in to creating this café and it was always nice to hear that someone from her grandmothers past appreciated it too.

  The old man looked about to say more, but was interrupted by Ivan who handed her two twenty pound notes. “I almost forgot” he said “please give one of these to Miguel and one to Martha. They are tips specifically for them, for the food and the service. They are not for the jar”. He looked pointedly at the glass jar on the counter next to the till which was half filled with coins and notes, and which April shared out amongst all the staff at the end of each week.

  “I wouldn’t dream of putting them in the tip jar as you have said that you want Martha and Miguel to have them” She looked at him taken aback by his rudeness and the implied suggestion that she would. “I will make sure that Miguel and Martha receive them, and that they know they have come from you”.

  He didn’t speak, just half nodded and turned away. His father, looking uncomfortable, glanced at his son’s back and half smiled and nodded at April. “It was lovely to see you” he said quietly. “Hopefully we will be able to come back again before we go”.

  “I think not, you are not safe to be let loose in here with all these cakes” Ivan was at the door holding it open for them to pass “Come on father, a brisk walk up the hill will do us all the world of good after that meal”.

  They passed through, and as the door closed April just saw a glance pass between Ivan and his father. Ivan looked irritated, almost angry. As April watched through the glass panel in the door, she saw Ivan say something to his father who replied with a shrug and a shake of the head before walking away. April felt sorry for him, he had a bit of a belly but he wasn’t what you would call fat. Surely, they couldn’t begrudge him the occasional piece of cake in a café he remembered from his past if he wanted one. Her thoughts were interrupted by the next couple who had just approached the counter with their bill and she put the Fletchers out of her thoughts whilst she turned her full attention to them. After all, you never knew what went on in families. She could hardly comment on anyone else’s given her own strained relationship with her mother.

  Chapter 6

  The last of the dinner guests had gone, and the kitchen was almost cleared. April watched as Miguel took the last of the plates off Rachel, who had just unloaded the dishwasher, and reached up to put them on the shelf above his head. “That’s me done” he said with a sigh of relief. “I’ve got four days off now”.

  “I’ve got a couple of days off” Rachel smiled “although I’m going to use the time to make you some more cakes April, are there any you particularly need?”

  April walked across the kitchen to the store cupboard where they kept the cakes, and opened the door. “I need a couple of Victoria sponges” she shouted back. “Also, a Toffee Crunch cake as the last few you made went very quickly and we only have one of those left now”. It was funny she thought how some cakes were routinely popular, and others seemed to be hit and miss. She had struggled to sell the Toffee Crunch cakes earlier in the month, and now it seemed that customers couldn’t get enough of them.

  “I changed the recipe slightly; it must be the secret ingredient that I am putting in that is making them so irresistible to people” Rachel laughed.

  “What’s the special ingredient?” Martha asked, walking across the kitchen to retrieve her coat and bag from the cupboard next to the door. “I must sprinkle myself with some of it, I could do with something that makes me irresistible to men”.

  “Any man or one in particular?” Miguel asked, winking at April and Rachel “Every time I came to the serving hatch this evening you were all over Ivan Fletcher”.

  Martha flapped her bag at him, catching him on the arm “Enough of that Miguel Ferreira” she said with a grin. “I was just giving good customer service that is all. I’m like that with all my customers”.

  “I’m sure you are Martha” Miguel was laughing and April was relieved that the previous bad humour in the kitchen had disappeared. The service had run like clockwork this evening, and she was pleased and impressed that her staff had not allowed their disagreements to affect their mood. The café was like any family unit she thought, they had their ups and downs, but disagreements never lasted long, and when they needed each other they pulled together and worked as a team. She didn’t want the dynamic to change, and it made her more determined than ever to come up with a plan that would mean that she could keep all her staff over the winter.

  “That reminds me” April fumbled in the pockets of her jeans for the money that Ivan Fletcher had given her. Finding the notes, she handed one to Martha and one to Miguel. “Mr Fletcher gave me this tip, stressed that it was for the cooking and the service and that it should go to the two of you”.

  “That’s good of him” Martha said, opening her purse and putting the note inside. “God knows I could do with the money. My car is in the garage being repaired and I hav
e had to borrow a friends tonight”.

  “It doesn’t seem right” Miguel looked mutinous and looked at his twenty-pound note with disdain. “We always share the tips amongst everyone. It’s not fair that Rachel has missed out”.

  “Don’t worry about it” Rachel smiled at him “I didn’t serve him, Martha did”.

  “Well Martha didn’t serve the people you did, but she will still get a share of those tips that went in the jar” Miguel looked annoyed. “That’s not how the tips system works here, we share equally”.

  April could see the glint in Martha’s eye and moved in to stop the conversation escalating in to another row “Ivan Fletcher was in with his parent’s tonight wasn’t he Martha?” she said quickly, trying to steer the conversation away from the money.