The Cosy Little Cupcake Van: A deliciously feel-good romance

by Annette Hannah

  ‘Well yes I am, or should I say was. I thought it would be perfect for me. I didn’t realise you were moving back here,’ she replied.

  ‘I would love to move back here for good but at the moment I’m trying to build up a property portfolio so that I have something to support me. My company has been offered a takeover bid, which I’d be a fool to turn down, especially as they want me to stay on as a consultant to help them expand in the UK, which I could do from anywhere in the world. But I just need a base for now, so I don’t have to keep staying in hotels.’

  She replied quickly before her words got tangled up and she made a fool of herself. ‘That sounds lovely. Good luck with that.’ She held up the keys to the cupcake van. ‘Oh well, I suppose I might as well go home. It’s getting dark now and it seems like there’s no point me looking at the cottage anymore.’ She turned to fight her way back down the non-existent path.

  ‘No please come and have a look round.’ He turned to Mrs Ashcroft. ‘You know I’ve been thinking, maybe the apartment in Nexton would be better suited for me as it’s nearer to the train station and everything. I do need to commute every now and then, and I can get to the airport from that train line.’ A look of sheer panic swept across the estate agent’s face.

  ‘Oh no, please don’t change your plans on my account. I’m sure I’ll find somewhere else. I mean who knows, I might hate it inside,’ Camilla said.

  ‘You won’t – that I can promise you.’ He grinned at her.

  Intrigued. She returned his smile, noticing that his beard seemed to make his eyes twinkle more than they had before.

  ‘Please allow me to show you around, if that’s okay with Mrs Ashcroft?’

  Mrs Ashcroft had been checking her phone messages. She looked up when she realised her name had been mentioned. ‘Oh yes, would you mind? Only we’ve had a bit of a situation back at the office. Could you please ensure you lock up and return the key to the office. We’re open till eight this evening.’

  ‘Yes, I will do, thank you very much,’ he replied as she handed him the bunch of keys.

  ‘Brilliant, thank you, and I’ll get started on the paperwork for the apartment if that’s definite.’

  ‘Yes, that’s absolutely definite.’ He gave Camilla a look that sent tingles down her spine. She looked away quickly to hide the flush that had started to creep up from her neck.

  Mrs Ashcroft made her way to the side of the house where a couple of cars were parked under a pretty wooden pergola, which peeped out from its covering of ivy. Camilla hadn’t noticed it before. She stifled a giggle as she heard the expletives whispered loudly as the woman snagged her tights on the overgrown weeds.

  ‘Oh, what a lovely shelter. It’s high enough for me to park my cupcake van in.’

  Blake waved to the estate agent as she drove off down the lane. ‘Yes apparently the previous owners had a camper van and built the shade due to complaints from a neighbour about it being an eyesore.’

  Camilla pretended to gulp. ‘Oh dear I hope they’re not always so tetchy.’

  Blake smiled, showing even white teeth. ‘You sound like you’ve already begun to plan on living here. Come on, let’s show you inside.’

  He opened the heavy black door, which led straight into a tiny living room. Apart from dust and a few cobwebs it was pretty much habitable. The large mantelpiece provided the focal point of the room. Logs were stacked neatly either side of the open fire. The floor was laid with original earthenware tiles and the walls painted white. Camilla could imagine a couple of colourful throws draped over the battered brown leather couch and armchair, accompanied by a new rug and cushions to brighten the place up and provide a more feminine touch to the room.

  Thick open beams separated the room from a small quaint kitchen with a large white Belfast sink under a leaded window that looked out into the side of the garden. Wooden worktops adorned a range of cupboards that cleverly disguised the fridge, freezer and washer-dryer. A cream-coloured range cooker stood proudly against the far wall. Beyond the kitchen was an addition to the house of a large orangery, the walls of which were painted a light dove grey. A heavy oak dining table and four chairs stood to the left, large patio doors led out to the garden.

  Camilla gasped when she saw it. ‘Oh wow I didn’t expect that. What a lovely surprise.’

  ‘Isn’t it just,’ replied Blake, ‘I knew you’d love it.’ he laughed.

  ‘It’s so lovely, and just looking at it my mind is whirring with possibilities as there would be plenty of room here to bake and assemble my cakes. I didn’t think I would be able to when I saw the tiny kitchen but this is just amazing – and look at that view.’

  Blake’s phone rang, ’’Sorry it’s my sister, I won’t be a minute.’ he handed her the bunch of keys. She walked across to the French doors, which opened out onto a small patio area with a round café table and four chairs. An abundance of colourful plants burst from pots. They were obviously low maintenance as they just needed a little tidy-up. The grass on the lawn was overgrown but that looked easy enough to resolve, not like the front garden, which was a tangle of weeds and a daunting prospect. The small garden was surrounded by a tall fence; some of the panels had trellises on them with ivy growing up. A small rickety shed stood at the bottom of the garden. Camilla smiled as her heart swelled with delight. She could be so happy here. She imagined sitting on the garden chair, reading a book and sipping a nice glass of Malbec whilst her cakes cooled in the kitchen.

  Blake joined her in the garden and interrupted her thoughts: ‘So where do you bake at the moment?’

  His voice startled her out of the blue. She still couldn’t get used to hearing it after all those years. She gave herself a virtual hug as she thought of what might have been. They could have been living here together, maybe even have a couple of little ones by now. But that obviously wasn’t meant to be. She wondered if he still felt the same as she belatedly answered him.

  ‘Sorry. I’ve been working at my friend’s place. It’s called the Signal Box Café. Have you heard of it?’

  ‘Oh yes, I’ve noticed it as I’ve been driving through the town. Last week I got the train into London for a meeting and bought a delicious bacon and sausage roll from there. Are you not happy working there?’

  ‘I’ve loved working there but it was only ever a temporary measure until I found somewhere else. Shall we look upstairs?’

  ‘Yes of course, but just before we do there’s something I want to show you.’

  Her eyes met his and she felt slight trepidation at what it could be.

  ‘Don’t look so worried. Here, come this way.’ He took her hand and led her to the bottom of the garden. ‘As soon as I saw this I immediately thought of you.’ He covered her eyes with his hands.

  ‘What are you doing?’ She laughed, placing her hands over his. A ripple of desire shot through her body and took her breath away.

  ‘Keep your eyes closed,’ he said. She felt him remove one of his hands and heard the latch of a gate that must have been hidden in the fence as she hadn’t noticed it.

  ‘Now what can you hear?’ he asked, pausing to allow her to listen.

  ‘Is that what I think it is?’ she asked as the gentle sound of trickling water filled the air.

  ‘It sure is,’ he replied as he removed his hands, reluctantly as if he’d enjoyed touching her again. ‘It’s your very own babbling brook; I remembered how much you’d always wanted one.’

  Camilla realised she was standing in a small clearing under a large willow tree. She gazed in awe at the small stream that wound through the rocks and created the sound she’d loved ever since she was a child and her mum had taken her to Wales for a holiday. Her mum had called it a babbling brook and she’d vowed right then aged six and a half that she wanted one in her garden when she grew up and got married. She blushed at the intimacy that this revelation showed they’d shared. He knew everything about her and she about him. She used to anyway.

  ‘I can’t believe you remem
bered that after all those years.’ Her voice was soft.

  ‘I remember everything about you. You’re a very hard woman to forget.’

  She blushed and he smiled and looked away. ‘You could put a nice little chair out here or even just a blanket and some cushions and you can read and relax,’ he said, breaking into her thoughts.

  It’s like he can see inside my mind, she thought.

  ‘I love it. Thank you for showing it to me. It really is a dream come true.’

  ‘Would you like to look upstairs?’

  ‘Yes I’d love too.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll just lock up here. After you!’ He stood back to allow her to pass through and locked the door.

  ‘So how is Lottie?’ she asked, ‘it must have hit her hard losing your parents like that.’

  ‘She’s good thank you, and yes it did. She went through a really rough time which affected her schooling. I mean she was fifteen when we lost dad and almost eighteen when Mom passed. It’s been tough but she’s settled now, just moved in with her boyfriend and still crazy about animals. She works in a vet’s which is her dream come true.’

  ‘Ah that’s lovely, she was always such a shy young girl.’

  Blake laughed, ‘She is the exact opposite of shy now, she’s so confident and fearless.’

  ‘Well I’m glad she’s happy.’

  She made her way back to the living room and climbed the stairs. She felt self-conscious as he was close behind her. She was sure her bum was a lot bigger now than when she had last seen him and she hoped he wasn’t looking at it. The thought of it made her want to giggle but she tried her hardest not to. There were two bedrooms upstairs, which were reasonable sizes, and a small bathroom.

  The main bedroom looked out to the front of the house and her eyes opened wide as she noticed the focal point of the room.

  ‘I’ve always wanted a window seat.’ She skipped over to it, patted off the layer of dust and sank into the luxurious deep pink cushions that were fitted on the top of the seat and also on the sides of the walls surrounding the bay window. She couldn’t see much outside because the dark nights were drawing in.’

  ‘I can just imagine lazy Sunday mornings snuggled up here, reading or simply watching the clouds gently blow across the sky. This house makes me feel so content, like I’m really coming home at last, I haven’t felt like that since moving out of my mum’s place.’

  Her excitement was contagious. Blake sat on the other side of the window seat and laughed affectionately.

  ‘Remember when we moved into that old basement flat with the coal fire?’

  ‘How could I forget, I nearly died when I opened the door to the coal shed and found the little old lady from next door in there with a bucket stealing our coal.’ She giggled.

  ‘Didn’t she steal a couple of your bras from the washing line as well once or twice?’

  ‘I’d forgotten about that.’ She chuckled.

  ‘It was a shame though, she didn’t really have anyone did she? You used to leave her food parcels outside her door. You’ve always been a kind person.’

  ‘Aw thanks. It’s funny though how dank and awful that little flat was we were so excited because it was our first home together yet looking back it was so shabby.’

  ‘It was but we didn’t see any of that did we? We only had eyes for each other.’

  Her heart missed a beat at his familiarity, his brown eyes were working their magic on her, she blushed as pink as the velvet on the seat. ‘That’s true, we did.’

  ‘I take it you’ll definitely want to move in then?’ he asked.

  ‘As soon as I possibly can,’ she replied snuggling further into the seat. The estate agent had turned the heating on so the cold wouldn’t put off potential tenants, and Camilla felt as though she could sleep very well exactly where she was.

  ‘Are you sure you’re happy to rent it? I assumed you’d want to buy somewhere, only I noticed your mum’s house was sold.’

  She jumped up abruptly from the cosiness of the window seat. Her stomach sank as though she’d swallowed a bucketload of pebbles. Some of the pebbles felt stuck in her throat and she couldn’t speak.

  Blake had been looking inside the fitted wardrobe but turned round to her when she didn’t answer him. He closed the door and she could see his reflection in the mirror. He was devastatingly handsome, dangerously so. He took her breath away. She wondered if she were in a dream where the past ten years hadn’t happened, and they were together and her mum was still around. But that was just wishful thinking.

  ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to mention your mum. I know how raw the pain must be still.’ He crossed the room and pulled her into his strong arms; she allowed her head to rest on his chest for just a second and then pulled herself away. He wasn’t hers anymore. The position to be hugged by him had been filled a long time ago.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m fine. It’s just a very long story about the house, but suffice to say it doesn’t belong to me anymore.’

  Blake looked puzzled, but she didn’t want to delve into it all and hoped he wouldn’t push the matter. ‘I need to go,’ she said and left the room.

  He followed her down the stairs. She was in a hurry to go but he looked as if he didn’t want his time with her to end.

  ‘So when can I move in?’ she asked as he locked the door behind them.

  ‘I’m not sure but I seem to remember the ad saying immediate occupancy available,’ he replied.

  ‘Oh hold on, I have it here.’ She delved into her pocket and pulled out the piece of paper. ‘Ah yes here we go: immediate occupancy.’

  ‘Great, well I guess that means you just need to let Mrs Ashcroft know.’

  She smiled and couldn’t help watching his face as he spoke; he looked so grown up now. He’d been a boy when they’d been together all those years ago, from late teens to mid-twenties. The beard suited him; it made him look more rugged and handsome although she couldn’t help wondering what he looked like without it. He bent down and she realised he was picking something up off the floor. It was the note he’d left for her at Edie’s house. It must have fallen out of her pocket. His eyes looked sad when he realised what it was and he screwed it up into a ball.

  ‘Why didn’t you call me?’ he asked with such tenderness that she felt she would break in two.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Her cheeks were pink. ‘I meant to but then I thought she probably wouldn’t like it.’

  ‘Who wouldn’t like it?’ He genuinely looked confused.

  The light from the streetlamp wasn’t very strong and she fought her way through the weeds and shrubbery in her haste to get away from the embarrassment of the situation. As she almost got to the path she tripped and shrieked as a piece of something spiky wrapped itself around her foot. He jolted forward and managed to catch her in his arms before she came to any harm. Feeling absolutely mortified she regained her footing as he stamped the offending flora away from its grip on her. She looked up into his eyes, which twinkled with the streetlamp.

  ‘I mean your wife of course.’ She pushed his arms off her and made her way to the cupcake van. Pressing her remote she heard two satisfying beeps and the indicators flashed. She would soon be away from him.

  Her heart was beating rapidly. She didn’t want him to know what he was stirring up inside her. He had someone new and she had spent so long trying to recover and get over that lost love, or – as Edie called him – the one that got away. It was easier to cope with that loss when he was out of sight but now he was standing here in front of her, living and breathing. Exactly the same in some ways but completely different in others. He was a man now, a strong handsome man who once belonged to her and now belonged to someone else.

  She opened her van and tried to get in but hesitated as he called her name softly. She was torn apart all those years ago by her love for him and her love for her mother. She knew that as painful as it had been, they had both done the right thing when they’d parted, even though their hearts had been s
o badly broken.

  ‘I’m divorced,’ he said, his hands holding on to both sides of her face. ‘We split up a couple of years ago; there is no wife.’

  ‘But you’re wearing a ring,’ she managed to stammer. ‘I was going to call you but then I saw your ring and didn’t think it fair to meet up with you if you had a wife.’

  He sighed with realisation and, shaking his head from side to side, he lifted his left hand up to show her. ‘That’s my dad’s ring; I’ve worn it since the day he died. Admittedly it used to be on my other hand but when I got married we thought we were all so hip and trendy so we decided not to have rings; we got these instead.’ He lifted the ring up to show her a faded tattoo underneath of a Celtic band and the date of the wedding.

  Camilla chuckled. She couldn’t quite believe what he was saying. ‘But you’ve always hated tattoos.’

  ‘Exactly but without you I became a different person. I didn’t care about much. I’ll be honest I felt a bit trapped in the situation with Dad’s business and especially being without you. That hurt like hell.’

  ‘I know, I felt it too. That’s why I don’t understand why you broke off all contact with me. It was far too painful. Then a few years later I heard you’d got married to someone from England and I knew that was it. I really didn’t think I’d ever see you again.’ Her stomach churned remembering the bitterness she’d felt at that time.

  ‘I’m so sorry. There are no words to describe how awful I feel about that. I haven’t forgiven myself so there’s no way I could ever expect you to forgive me. Everyone seemed to want a piece of me. I was pulled in so many different directions. I had to make very tough decisions. Letting go of you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I hated myself for a long time. It was just that—’

  He looked down. His hand smoothed down his beard, before his eyes met hers again, imploringly. She could see pain in his eyes and whilst wanting to relieve him of that she needed to know why he’d called it off and why so cruelly without a word, just a returned unopened letter.