To all the bakers out there – my tastebuds thank you, if my waistline does not...
Chapter One
‘Are you sure this is a good idea?’ Cat Garcia murmured, as a cluster of determined six-year-olds careened around the shop floor of the Smart Cookies Biscuit Emporium, laughing and jostling as they wove in between customers’ legs to peer beneath the round display tables piled high with fragile stock.
Her business partner, Sadie Smart, smiled from behind the glass-topped cabinet next to the till. ‘I’m sure,’ she said, tipping a discreet nod towards the two women who’d come in with the children. Each was holding an Easter Bonnet biscuit collection as they stood admiring the jewel-coloured iced egg decorations dangling from the miniature tree display. ‘While the kids search out the next clue, their mothers are shopping.’
Cat was less than convinced. She knew several other Castle Court businesses were taking part in Chester’s Easter Egg hunt, including the stationery shop, but their stock wasn’t quite so delicate. And it was the last Saturday before Easter – the city’s shoppers were out in force and Castle Court was busy, in spite of the blustery skies and torrential rain. A feature in Good Housekeeping magazine had meant a flurry of online orders as well as an increase in footfall. Did they really need this kind of sales boost?
She sighed. ‘Any minute now, one of the displays will go toppling and we’ll lose all the biscuits on display.’
Now Sadie laughed. ‘Who are you – the Grinch that stole Easter? Lighten up!’
‘Hmmm,’ Cat said, doing her best to banish the frown that had settled between her eyebrows. She glanced at the table that held the Easter Bonnet tins; it did look as though quite a few had been bought. ‘I suppose you’re right.’
The sandy-haired boy leading the hunt let out a shout of triumph as he pounced on the flat cardboard egg Sadie had hung on the wall near to the front door. ‘Found it!’
Craning over his shoulder, the only girl in the group made a determined swipe at the pastel-green card. ‘What does it say?’
‘Hey, I saw it first,’ the boy said, yanking it out of reach and flipping it over. ‘It says, The King of the Court holds the next clue. You won’t see it here – go up to floor two!’
The group charged for the door, causing several customers to dodge out of their way. ‘Not so fast,’ one of the women called. ‘We have to pay for these first.’
There was a collective groan from the children.
‘Don’t worry – I hear the Easter Bunny has left plenty of prizes. Just follow the trail,’ Sadie said with a smile as their mothers carried their purchases to the counter.
‘I wish the Easter Bunny could do something about the rain,’ the other mother grumbled with a backwards glance towards the window. ‘It feels like it’s been wet all week.’
‘It’s the tail end of Storm Miranda from America,’ Sadie said. ‘Apparently it’s going to get worse before it gets better.’
Cat watched the children, who were studying the biscuit farmyard display Sadie had created. ‘We sell an Ice-Your-Own Easter Biscuit kit,’ she said to the women. ‘It comes with everything you need to create an edible masterpiece and they’re three-for-two. They might buy you an hour of peace and quiet during a rainy afternoon.’
Both mothers looked interested. ‘I’ll have three,’ the first one said with a grateful grimace. ‘Anything to keep them from climbing the walls.’
‘And three for me,’ the second woman said. ‘I might even have a go myself, although they won’t look anything like as good as yours.’
‘Sadie is our resident icing artist,’ Cat said. ‘She’s a genius with a piping bag.’
‘I don’t know about that,’ Sadie said, her cheeks reddening as she rang up the purchases. ‘But I hope the children enjoy making their biscuits – it should definitely help to take their minds off the weather. My little girl is five and she loves creating her own designs.’
‘And eating them, I expect?’ the first woman said, grinning.
Cat listened as Sadie and the two mothers swapped rainy day survival tips. In the early days of Smart Cookies, Sadie had brought her daughter, Lissy, to work and the whole Court had fallen under her spell. But there was no doubt she could be a handful; Cat still felt slightly sick when she recalled the afternoon Lissy had wandered out of the shop and gone missing among the Christmas crowds in Castle Court. Thankfully, the little girl hadn’t gone far but it was a wake-up call for both Cat and Sadie. Now Sadie had a reliable childminder to help her during the school holidays and her husband, Daniel, took over whenever she had to work on a Saturday; as much as Cat disliked Daniel, she had to admit he appeared to have turned over a new leaf since he and Sadie had decided to try again with their marriage last Christmas. And no matter how much Cat loved having Lissy around, the shop was no place for a five-year-old, especially in the run up to Easter weekend. Although they were nowhere near as busy as Elin’s, the chocolate shop – its usually cool Swiss owner looked more and more frazzled every time Cat saw her.
‘Thank you,’ Sadie said, handing over elegant carboard bags bearing the blue and gold Smart Cookies logo. ‘Have fun – don’t forget to tag us on social media if you upload any photos of your biscuits.’
‘Happy hunting,’ Cat called to the children.
No sooner had they left than another excited group squelched across the damp door mat, their dripping-wet mothers in tow. ‘See?’ Sadie murmured in satisfaction. ‘I told you it was worth hiding a clue in the shop.’
Cat shook her head. ‘I’m sure you’re right. But watching the shelves wobble is giving me palpitations. Why don’t I go and make us a cup of tea?’
Her best friend laughed. ‘When in doubt, make tea.’
‘Exactly,’ Cat replied, heading for the stairs that led to the basement.
She left Sadie to supervise the new group of clue hunters, breathing a sigh of relief as she passed the trestle tables they used to host icing parties and reached the calm of the kitchen. Cat had never wanted to be anything other than a chef and there was something about being surrounded by the tools of her trade that made her feel instantly soothed. But this kitchen was special, partly because it was the heart of the Smart Cookies business Cat and Sadie had poured everything into, and partly because she’d spent so many quiet, peaceful mornings there, whipping up batch after batch of biscuits for Sadie to ice into perfection. But the kitchen wasn’t empty today – Delilah was there, humming to herself as she rolled out some dough. She looked up as Cat approached.
‘Fancy a cuppa?’ Cat asked the grey-haired assistant.
Delilah dusted her hands on her blue and gold apron. ‘Of course. But I’ll make it.’
‘No, you carry on,’ Cat said, nodding at the golden dough on the work surface. ‘It looks like you’re just about ready to start cutting.’
‘I am,’ Delilah said. ‘These are going to be frolicking lambs and chicks, then I’ve got another batch of chocolate eggs to cut out before lunch.’
Cat sniffed the air, savouring the hint of cinnamon sweetness in the air. ‘And are those spiced biscuits I can smell in the oven?’
The older woman nodded. ‘I’ve made a start on the jewelled crosses for the Bishop’s Easter Sunday feast – his housekeeper needs the completed order by next Saturday at the very latest.’
Not for the first time, Cat thanked the benevolent stars that had made Delilah answer her advert for an assistant. The plump, twinkly-eyed retired school cook had settled in so fast that it felt to Cat as though she had always been part of the Smart Cookies team but her cheery nature hid a fearsome efficiency; exactly the kind of person Cat liked to have in her kitchen. And what she didn’t know about baking wasn’t wor
th knowing. ‘I don’t know how I managed without you, Delilah,’ Cat told her, smiling. ‘Thank you.’
‘Oh, stop that,’ Delilah scolded, but she looked pleased. ‘If Clare and Sadie can get the whole lot iced by Thursday, I can drop them off at Bishop’s House on my way home. It’s no trouble.’
‘Then the least I can do is make you a cup of tea,’ Cat replied. She edged round Delilah and flicked the kettle switch.
She was on her way back up the stairs, bearing two steaming mugs of tea, when she spotted Clare easing her way through the shoppers, a mangled umbrella in one hand.
‘It’s still raining, then,’ Cat said, eyeing the other woman’s windswept hair and soggy shoes with sympathy.
Clare’s heel skidded on the wet slippery floor and she clutched at a table to steady herself. ‘Just a bit – I nearly got blown off my feet on Bridge Street. I don’t know who Miranda is but she’s fierce.’
Cat held out one of the cups. ‘Here, take this. I’ll make another one.’
By the time she had boiled the kettle again and made herself a replacement drink, the rain had grown heavier. The shop was bursting with people trying to escape the downpour – Cat didn’t even try to squeeze through the crowd to join Sadie behind the counter. Instead, she stood by the steamed-up window, gazing beyond Sadie’s Watership Down window display to the raindrops thundering into the puddles outside. There was almost a river running across the Court, gushing towards the drains where it bubbled and frothed around the metal grates. The sky was an ominous slate grey laced with sullen amber and, beneath it, the branches of the oak tree in the centre of the Court waved as though they were made of paper instead of wood. Storm Miranda was gathering pace.
Sadie joined Cat, an anxious look on her face. ‘Look at those puddles,’ she said, as the rain began to hammer in earnest. ‘It’s falling faster than it can drain.’
Cat eyed the torrents of water gushing from the awnings over the shops on the floors above, her own stomach starting to twist with unease. If the rain didn’t ease off soon, there was a very real chance that the Court might flood.
‘I don’t suppose we’ve got any sandbags in the basement, have we?’ she asked Sadie.
Her best friend stared at her. ‘No. Do you think we’re going to need them?’
‘I hope not,’ Cat said, swallowing a sigh. ‘But maybe we should think about getting everyone out of here, just in case.’
Sadie looked aghast. ‘We can’t send them out in this – they’ll get drenched.’
‘If this rain carries on they’ll get wet whether they’re inside or out,’ Cat argued. ‘Think of the panic it will cause if water starts coming through the door.’
‘You don’t really think—’ Sadie began, glancing out of the window again.
‘I don’t know,’ Cat said. ‘But better to be safe than sorry, right?’
Sadie’s expression wavered between doubt and disbelief. Then she nodded. ‘You’re right.’ She cleared her throat. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, I am sorry to have to do this to you but I’m sure you can all see the level of rainwater in the Court is rising. I’m afraid that means we need to close the shop, at least temporarily, to take precautions.’
There was a swell of muttering and grumbling among the assembled shoppers. Cat tensed, preparing herself for a battle. ‘We really are very sorry,’ she called. ‘But if you have any purchases left to make, please make your way to the till. Thank you for your cooperation.’
Those customers holding Smart Cookies tins and boxes began to shuffle towards Clare at the back of the shop. Others started to make for the door. And then a startled cry cut through the moist air. ‘Look! It’s too late!’
A man in a rain-dappled overcoat was pointing at the bottom of the blue shop door. Sure enough, a steady stream of water was hissing around the wood and soaking into the already soggy welcome mat.
Cat’s heart plummeted. What did they do now? If they opened the door to let everyone out, then even more rainwater would flood in. But what other course of action was there?
Sadie gripped her arm. ‘We’d better prepare for the worst.’
With a disconcerting sense of unreality, Cat nodded. ‘We need to move any stock that’s near ground level,’ she said. ‘Then we can open the door and let you out.’
And the water in, she added silently. Beside her, Sadie began opening the drawers underneath the round display tables and pulled out the tins and boxes inside.
The young woman next to her held out her hands. ‘Where do you want them?’
‘On the counter, please,’ Sadie said, sounding grateful.
The woman took the boxes and passed them to the next customer, who passed them on again, forming a chain. Other shoppers started to pull open the drawers beneath the rest of the shelves and started the same process. Seeing that everything was under control, at least for the next few minutes, Cat headed for the stairs. ‘I’ll see what I can do in the kitchen,’ she said, trying not to wince at the thought of her precious work area deluged with rain.
Delilah looked up as Cat clattered into the basement. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘We’ve got a major problem,’ Cat said.
Delilah listened to her terse explanation, then pursed her lips. ‘We had something similar at the school I worked in once. The first thing you’ll want to do is turn the power off at the mains – safest that way. Then you can work out what needs saving and what you’ll have to leave behind.’
‘I’ll handle the power – you grab whatever you can and get upstairs.’
For a moment, she thought Delilah would argue. But then the grey-haired woman nodded. ‘I’ll take as many biscuits as I can carry.’
When Cat came back from the cupboard where the mains switch was located, Delilah had gone. Working fast in the half-light filtering through the bannister, Cat whipped the plastic tablecloths from the trestle tables and threw them over her stand mixers; they were too heavy to move upstairs, and the tablecloths might just be enough to save them from any water damage. She fumbled in the drawers and threw a handful of her most used biscuit cutters into a bag, hurrying upstairs with a whispered apology to the kitchen for abandoning it in its hour of need.
Sadie had been busy – the counter was piled high with stock. Clare was doing her best to make more room. ‘I don’t think we’ve got space for any more,’ Sadie sighed, with a regretful glance around.
‘We’re out of time, anyway,’ Cat said flatly, tipping her head towards the door and the increasing stream of rain. ‘Right, everyone stand back. Things are about to get wet.’
The customers shuffled backwards, clearing a path to the shop entrance. Gritting her teeth, Cat tried to ignore the squelching sound from beneath her feet; unless she was mistaken, a wet welcome mat was going to be the least of her worries once she opened the door. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the handle and pulled.
Even though she was ready for it, the force of the water still made Cat yelp as it spurted over her shins. Behind her, the crowd muttered and shuffled backwards as the rain spread across the shop floor. Cat waited for the flood to slow to a trickle – it didn’t. The flow gushed and gurgled all the way to the stairs and beyond – down to the basement.
‘Okay, everybody out!’ she cried, waving her arm at the door. ‘Quickly but safely, please.’
Delilah stepped in front of the stairs that led to the basement, holding firm to the bannister, and began to guide people out. In the brief second before the departing shoppers blocked her view, Cat saw that the old cook was wearing a pair of hot pink wellingtons below her blue and gold Smart Cookies apron. Where did she find those? Cat wondered but there was no time to ask.
‘Please accept our apologies,’ she called, as the customers splashed past her and out into the blustery Court. ‘Hopefully, this is just a temporary measure and it’ll be business as usual tomorrow.’
Clare materialised in front of Cat, still in her coat. ‘Why don’t I go and see if there are any sandbags around?’ she asked.
‘We can’t be the only shop in Castle Court with this problem.’
A gust of wind buffeted the door as Cat glanced at the rain-lashed shops. ‘We’re the only one on this side of the Court with a basement but if I was one of our neighbours, I’d be using any sandbags I had as a precaution.’
Her worried gaze came to settle on the businesses opposite Smart Cookies; the rain was pounding at their windows too but it seemed to be flowing away as it hit the ground, as though the Court had a barely noticeable slope. ‘Try the Bus Stop or Let’s Go Dutch first,’ Cat told Clare. ‘They’re less likely to need any sandbags they might have.’
Once the last customer had left Smart Cookies, Cat tried to close the door again. But try as she might, the wood refused to fit back into the frame. ‘It’s swollen in the water,’ Sadie said, coming to help. The two of them struggled for a few moments, then gave up.
‘Brilliant,’ Cat said, resisting the temptation to kick both the rain and the door. ‘Just what we need in the middle of a flash flood – a barrier that won’t close.’
Delilah peered outside. ‘Don’t look now but the heavens have just opened even more.’
Cat pressed her lips together. Delilah was right – the rain was cascading down from a hostile sky and the roar was ever more thunderous. ‘Hurry up, Clare,’ she muttered.
But when Clare dashed across the Court, she was empty-handed. ‘No sandbags at all,’ she puffed. ‘I even went up to the shops on the second and third floors but they all said the same thing – no one was expecting this amount of rain, so the Council didn’t give any out.’
‘Is anyone else flooded?’ Sadie asked.
‘A couple of shops on this side of the Court are struggling,’ Clare said with a grimace. ‘Patisserie Cherie have padded the door with towels but we definitely seem to have the worst of it.’
‘I suppose we must be at the lowest point of the Court,’ Sadie said, sounding frustrated.
Clare nodded. ‘It looks that way. Jaren suggested using scrunched-up paper to block the gaps around the door.’
‘At the moment, it’s just one big gap, right in the middle,’ Cat said. ‘The door won’t close.’
Stormy Weather at Castle Court Page 1