A Silver Lining

by Anne Douglas

  There were six, as Mabel had reported. Two large chocolate cakes, covered in the smoothest icing ever seen and carrying the magic name of Sacher written in darker chocolate. Then two towering layer cakes iced with a toffee-coloured glaze and decorated with triangular sponge slices. And finally, two white iced cakes, on which were beautifully made flowers of sugar paste and lines and shapes in marzipan. Only six, yes, but with the general effect of so much more, like a display for a grand buffet, perhaps, in some elegant house or special hotel, something quite out of the ordinary. Certainly, nothing like them had been seen before in Comrie’s Bakery.

  For a few moments no one spoke, then Mrs Arrow, clearing her throat, looked across at Viktor.

  ‘Tell me, Mr Linden, how did you make cakes like these in just a weekend?’

  ‘It is my job, Mrs Arrow.’ He shrugged a little. ‘On Friday and Saturday, there was the baking. On Sunday, the icing. It was no trouble to me.’

  ‘Of course, I’d already organized the ingredients you wanted,’ Mr Comrie put in. ‘But you did a grand job, Viktor – I think we’ll all agree on that?’

  After an immediate chorus of approval Viktor spoke again, saying that he would like to tell everyone a little about the cakes. That the Sachertorte had been invented by a famous chef named Sacher back in 1832 for Chancellor Metternich, and was the favourite cake of Vienna. That the cake with the triangles was the Dobertorte from the Hungarian border, and the white-iced cake an almond sponge his own creation. He always liked to – what was the word – improvise from time to time, but never with the most famous cakes, of course. He would never presume to do that.

  After he’d finished speaking another silence fell until Mr Whyte, exchanging looks with Mr Comrie, said that now, of course, there were decisions to be made.

  ‘True,’ Mrs Arrow agreed. ‘And I’ve a shop to open and the café to be made ready.’ She clapped her hands. ‘Girls, away you go, then!’

  ‘Meantime, what’s happening to these splendid cakes, then?’ asked Ross. ‘If they’re to be sold here by the slice, what charge is to be made?’

  ‘That’s to be discussed,’ Mr Comrie said firmly. ‘Viktor, will you and Mr Whyte put the trays into the room at the back and we’ll adjourn there. Mrs Arrow, we’ll need you as well. Get the girls to open up this morning, eh?’

  ‘Certainly, Mr Comrie.’

  As the girls hurried to their tasks everyone else moved to the back room, Viktor and Arthur Whyte carefully bearing away the trays of precious cakes so they were out of sight of any arriving customers for the time being.

  Thirteen

  Their eyes moving from those cakes to Mr Comrie standing before them, everyone waited for him to speak. Viktor, close to his uncle, seemed unworried, but Jinny – who wasn’t even sure she should be there – could tell that Mr Whyte and Mrs Arrow were on pins wondering what would be decided and probably already working out what they would say if they disagreed with Mr Comrie.

  ‘Well, now,’ he began, smiling round at the watchers, ‘time to fix a price for Viktor’s delectable cakes. I think we’ve decided, haven’t we, to have slices from three in the café and three in the shop here?’

  ‘That’s what we decided,’ Arthur Whyte agreed.

  ‘Without me, actually,’ Ross put in, smiling as though he wasn’t annoyed, which he was. ‘Of course I’m quite happy about it, provided the price is right.’

  ‘That goes without saying, Ross,’ said Mr Comrie smoothly, ‘and I think we have discussed this in general terms already, haven’t we?’

  Ross shrugged. ‘Perhaps so. What are the views on prices then? We’ll have to remember that the ingredients for these cakes are a good deal more expensive than for our usual cakes.’

  ‘Exactly so.’ Mr Comrie looked round again at his staff. ‘That’s why I’m suggesting a price of sixpence per slice in the shop and ninepence in the café.’

  Silence fell. While Arthur Whyte and Mrs Arrow exchanged looks, Ross stared straight ahead, Jinny gazed at Viktor and Viktor gazed at his uncle.

  ‘Sixpence and ninepence?’ Arthur repeated at last.

  ‘That’s my suggestion.’ Mr Comrie‘s smile was pleasant but his eyes were cold. ‘You think they’re too high?’

  Arthur hesitated. ‘They might be thought so,’ he said at last.

  ‘Compared with our usual prices,’ added Mrs Arrow.

  ‘As Ross has just said, the ingredients will be more expensive and we’ll have to take account of that.’ Mr Comrie’s smile was fading. ‘We haven’t done any costings yet but I think the prices I’ve suggested will have to be charged anyway. Slices are not usually sold in the shop but are in the café. How much are we charging for a slice of cake there, Mrs Arrow?’

  ‘Threepence!’ she cried, as if to say, You see my point?

  ‘Yes, well, that may be so, but I am certain that customers will see the difference between the Viennese cakes and our usual Madeira and so on. They will expect to pay more and, don’t forget, there are still people with money about who come into Comrie’s.’

  Mr Comrie’s face was rather red and his eyes were still cold.

  ‘That being the case, perhaps you’d care to tell me, Arthur, what price you would like to see put on my nephew’s cake slices?’

  ‘Off the top of my head, Mr Comrie, no disrespect, you understand, but I’d say fourpence in the shop and fivepence in the café. If this doesn’t take into account the difference in ingredients, I’d suggest that if the cakes become popular we’ll sell enough to cover the difference.’

  ‘Fourpence in the shop, fivepence in the café?’ Mr Comrie’s eyes were now flashing disapproval. ‘Well, I don’t know what you make of those prices, Ross, but I say they do not reflect my nephew’s artistry and I’m not going to accept them. Mrs Arrow, please begin selling the cakes at the prices I’ve recommended and report back to me this afternoon. Ross and Arthur, I’ll see you in my office, right?’

  ‘Certainly, Mr Comrie,’ they both chimed, while Mrs Arrow hurried away, saying, with an anxious face, that she’d send her girls to fetch the cakes, while Viktor and Jinny stood together uncertainly.

  ‘Uncle, what about me?’ asked Viktor. ‘Shall I return to the bakery?’

  ‘Take the rest of the day off,’ his uncle ordered, wiping his brow. ‘We owe you time, don’t we? You worked the entire weekend.’

  ‘That’s kind of you, Uncle.’

  As everyone else went, he and Jinny were left staring at each other, he looking so lost that her heart went out to him. Suddenly it seemed that everything had changed for him. One minute he was being praised to the skies, the next people in this strange country were squabbling over how much his beautiful cakes should cost. Probably that would never have happened in Vienna, and it had made him aware that he was far from home. Though he might have his uncle to turn to, being with him in Edinburgh was obviously not the same as being with his family and all that he knew.

  Impulsively, she pressed his hand.

  ‘Try not to worry about it, Viktor – the pricing, I mean. Everyone loves your cakes and they’re sure to be very popular. This will all be forgotten in a day or two, you’ll see.’

  At her words, his face lit up and he pressed the hand she had put in his with so much warmth she could hardly pull it away. But of course, she had to go. Shouldn’t be still downstairs, anyway.

  ‘Jinny, thank you,’ he murmured as she moved away from him ‘You are so kind. I appreciate it very much.’

  ‘I have to go back to Accounts, Viktor. And you must have a lovely day off.’

  ‘No – wait – could not you be free too? Spend time with me?’

  Oh, heavens, what was he saying? She felt as if she was almost physically spinning with joy, but there was no way she could take an afternoon off, just like that. No way at all.

  ‘It’s not possible. I’d love to but I can’t. I’m so sorry!’

  ‘Lunch, then?’ His blue eyes were shining. ‘We could have lunch? Mittagessen? I could meet
you outside the shop?’

  Lunch? She was still spinning. ‘You could, yes, that would be grand. Thank you.’

  ‘What time?’

  ‘Twelve o’clock? That’s when I go to lunch.’

  ‘Till twelve o’clock,’ he said solemnly, and their eyes met, holding them as though by physical bonds. ‘I will meet you then.’

  At last, as he formally bowed, she managed to leave him, hurrying from the back room through the café to the stairs, then upwards to Accounts where there was no Ross and no Mabel. Thank God for that. Long may they stay out of the office, or at least until twelve o’clock. For no one must see her looking as she did – so happy.

  Fourteen

  Of course, they did see her. First, Mabel, returning from the post office where she’d been buying stamps for the office. Next, Ross and Arthur Whyte, released from Mr Comrie’s office, though Mr Whyte, his face grim, gave just the briefest nod as he passed by, and Mabel was only interested in getting back to her typewriter now that the meeting was over. Only Ross actually looked at Jinny before he sat down at his desk, but then he only laughed and held up his hands.

  ‘Sixpence it is, for the shop, Jinny! And ninepence for the café. All that time waffling and we might just as well have said yes in the first place.’

  ‘Did you say yes at all?’

  He shrugged. ‘For the try out, I did, but we’re going to work out how much we’ll lose on making the new cakes, and if they don’t sell well …’ He shook his head. ‘It’ll be sorry, Viktor. Thank you and goodbye.’

  ‘Goodbye? He’s going to be working here anyway.’

  ‘Oh, yes, of course.’ Ross gave Jinny a thoughtful look, but made no further comment, and both worked quietly until Jinny rose and said she’d be going for her lunch.

  ‘Couldn’t just find me our flour account before you go, could you? I’m planning to compare it with one from that new firm, Rowley’s.’

  ‘Do you need it now? I’m meeting … my sister. I have to go.’

  ‘Your sister? The one in the hat shop?’

  ‘Yes, May. Could I get the account for you later?’

  ‘No, no, I’m just being lazy.’ Ross smiled. ‘Have a nice lunch, then. Take a bit longer if you like – you don’t often meet May.’

  For a long moment Jinny stared ahead, not looking at him. Then she met his eyes. ‘All right, Ross, you win. I’m not meeting May, I’m meeting Viktor. I don’t know why I had to lie about it.’

  ‘Didn’t want to be teased, perhaps?’ Ross was looking rueful. ‘And now I’ve teased you, anyway. I’m sorry, Jinny. Away to see Viktor, then, and cheer him up, but not too much.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, he’s not here for ever, that’s all.’

  ‘Think I don’t know that?’

  ‘All I’m saying is remember it.’

  ‘I’ll see you at one o’clock, as usual.’

  ‘Fine.’

  As she turned, to speed down to the street, Jinny’s eyes were stormy and her colour high, but by the time she’d found Viktor waiting on the pavement a little way from the shop, Ross’s words had already faded from her mind.

  ‘Viktor!’

  He had been looking down Princes Street over the gardens towards the castle, his shoulders back, his head erect, every inch ‘Der Leutnant’, as Ross had called him. As soon as he heard Jinny’s call, however, he spun round and went to her, taking her hands and looking down into her face, his own face brightening as he said her name.

  ‘Jinny!’

  ‘I hope I’m not late?’

  ‘No, no.’ He pushed back his hat from his fair hair and smiled a little. ‘So good to see you, after my morning that was so … I must say schrecklich. No word in English will do.’

  ‘Schrecklich? Does it mean awful? Terrible?’ Jinny searched his face. ‘Viktor, it wasn’t so bad. I told you, everyone liked your cakes, it was only the price they couldn’t agree on.’

  ‘My cakes are not worth your six pennies a slice?’ He grasped her hand. ‘Come, let us forget it. Where may I take you for lunch?’

  Careful of cost and not knowing how Viktor was placed for money, Jinny took him to a small café in the West End where they could have something light that would not be expensive. Of course, it was crowded, but they were lucky, able to spot a table as two city workers rose to leave, and settled themselves down at once, ready to talk.

  Fifteen

  ‘Such a beautiful colour,’ Viktor remarked as Jinny removed her winter coat, revealing her raspberry-coloured jumper. ‘May I say it suits you?’

  ‘I’m glad you like it.’

  She was surprised to find herself feeling quite at ease. Perhaps because Viktor had shown a vulnerable side she hadn’t thought he had, or perhaps because she might indeed be the one to cheer him, as Ross had suggested. ‘Not too much,’ he had added, but she dismissed those words from her mind.

  The waitress brought a menu and they chose mushroom soup, followed by sausages and mash for Viktor and a toasted sandwich for Jinny.

  ‘What are sausages in German?’ she asked. ‘I’m sorry to say I never did German at school, but maybe the Austrian language is different anyway, is it?’

  ‘It’s a version of standard German, one that Germans understand, as we understand theirs. Just as you understand American and English English.’

  ‘But did you know that Scots itself is a proper language?’ Jinny smiled. ‘I just speak with a Scottish accent. You do understand me, don’t you?’

  ‘Of course! Don’t forget, I’m used to my mother’s.’

  ‘But now she’ll speak fluent German. I don’t speak one word.’

  ‘And your first word will be the German for sausages?’

  They laughed, all traces of stress vanishing from Viktor’s face, making him look suddenly so young, Jinny felt she could visualize him now, not so much as a lieutenant, but a schoolboy. Handsome, of course, he must always have been handsome.

  ‘Wurst,’ he whispered, leaning across the table. ‘That is your first word, but if you would like me to, I can teach you others.’

  ‘I’d like it very much, Viktor. But first you must tell me about your Vienna. I know it’s lovely.’

  Viktor looked away. ‘Not only lovely, it’s splendid. Though maybe not quite as splendid as it was.’

  ‘Why’s that?’

  He shrugged. ‘Well, because of what we’ve lost. We had an empire, we were an imperial capital. Our emperor, Franz Josef, looked as if he would last for ever. But he died during the war and the empire died with him. Our country was defeated, and Vienna was defeated, too.’

  ‘But it’s still lovely? Still splendid?’

  ‘Yes, well, it rebuilt itself and became beautiful again. Still had its palaces and boulevards, you know, and of course restaurants and coffee houses. But – I do not know how to put it – the people know things have changed.’ Viktor sighed. ‘Enough of that – here comes our soup!’

  Over the soup, which Jinny was relieved to find was very good, he seemed to relax, grow lyrical almost, as he began to talk of the coffee houses back home, describing them simply as the best in the world.

  ‘Jinny, I cannot tell you all that they mean to us in Vienna. For they are not just cafés, you understand, but places to gather and meet friends, to read the paper or talk all day, if you like – and never be asked to move on.’

  ‘And they have wonderful cakes like yours?’

  ‘Of course!’ Viktor’s eyes glowed. ‘From the shops like my father’s, where I learned my baking. How I wish I could show them to you!’

  Their looks met and lingered, but the moment passed as the waitress removed their soup bowls and served their next course.

  ‘Wurst! My favourite!’ Viktor exclaimed when she had left them. ‘You know, we have as many varieties of sausage at home as we have coffee.’

  ‘Oh, dear! Do hope our sausages will be all right for you, then.’

  ‘They are excellent, I assure you.’
<
br />   ‘And what about our coffee?’

  He gave a wary smile. ‘Well, there I must confess, I am missing home.’

  ‘I did wonder if you might be homesick.’

  ‘Because of how I was today?’ He shook his head. ‘That was only because of what was said about the price of my cakes.’

  ‘Viktor, I explained—’

  ‘I know, I know, but let’s not discuss it. Let us just enjoy being here, together.’

  Lulled for a moment by the beauty of the idea, Jinny dreamily finished her cheese roll and was about to let Viktor order some of the local coffee he evidently didn’t enjoy when some inner warning made her look at the café clock.

  ‘Oh, no, look at the time! I have to be back by one and it’s nearly that now!’

  ‘Surely you can take a little longer?’

  ‘Ross said I could, but I told him I’d be back as usual, I don’t know why. Maybe I didn’t want him to think I was using you to take extra time.’

  ‘Would he have thought that?’

  ‘Probably not. I suppose I was just cross with him and didn’t want any favours.’ Putting on her coat with Viktor’s polite help, Jinny shook her head. ‘Come on, let’s go.’

  The coffee cancelled, the bill paid, they left the café and hurried back towards Comrie’s, but before they reached it Viktor slowed down and touched Jinny’s arm.

  ‘I am sure, you know, you need not worry,’ he said gently. ‘Ross will not be cross if you are late when he told you to take more time.’

  ‘Oh, I know, it’s just that – like I said – he upset me, so I wanted to make sure he’d no reason to complain.’ Jinny laughed apologetically. ‘I’m sure I’m not making sense to you – sorry.’

  ‘Jinny, I’m sure you will always make sense.’ Viktor’s tone was light but his eyes were serious. ‘And I’m sure, too, that you and Ross usually get on very well. Am I right?’

  ‘Yes, it’s true. In fact, I’m feeling sorry now that I’ve made such a fuss.’ She put her hand on his. ‘Viktor, I’m so sorry I have to go. It’s been so lovely.’