Angel Cake

by Angel Cake (epub)

  Dan’s eyes widen, and he opens his mouth to protest, but nothing comes out. His eyes harden and his face shuts down, and he shrugs off the feathered wings and lets them fall to the ground. Then he turns and walks away from me, and I’m glad.

  I never want to see him again.

  It’s just past ten when I get back to the flat. Kazia, on the mend now, is sitting at the table with Mum and Dad, eating toast made from Tesco Value bread.

  Mum looks up, alarmed. ‘Anya?’ she asks. ‘We didn’t expect you back for another hour. Is everything all right?’

  I’ve wiped the tears away, tried to tidy my makeup, but when I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror on the wall, I can see I look windswept and weary and sad.

  ‘The music was rubbish,’ I tell them. ‘We left early.’

  Well, Dan and I did, anyhow. We just didn’t leave together.

  ‘But it was your special night!’ Mum argues.

  ‘I know… I just wasn’t in the mood. Besides, it’s Christmas Eve tomorrow. I wanted to be home.’

  I sit down at the table, take a piece of toast. The bread is not as nice as the rye bread Mum makes, but it’s cheaper than buying the ingredients to bake it. I scrape a knife round the empty jam jar, then go to the cupboard to see if there’s any more. It’s almost empty. A jar of sauerkraut, an apple, half a bag of flour. No jam, no honey.

  ‘I’ll shop tomorrow,’ Mum promises. ‘We’ll still have our special meal tomorrow night. Traditional. We’ll make things as nice as we can, even though…’

  She looks at Dad, and he looks at the tabletop guiltily.

  ‘I have to go into work in the morning, just for a little while,’ he says. ‘I have a few things to do, but don’t worry, this is the last time. Things will change now.’

  ‘So business is better?’ I ask.

  Dad looks uncomfortable.

  ‘Tell them, Jozef,’ Mum says gently.

  ‘Not better,’ Dad says. ‘I’ve tried and tried, but ever since Yuri left things have been getting worse and worse. Problems, debts, complaints… I can’t make it work. My savings are gone… it’s time to stop. Tomorrow I’ll clear the office. The business is over.’

  Kazia flings her arms round Dad. ‘Never mind, Tata!’ she says. ‘It’s almost Christmas Eve. Maybe Santa’ll bring you a new job? I asked him to fix everything up, and he said he’d see what he could do.’

  I blink. So that’s what took Kazia so long at the grotto. She wasn’t asking for dolls and games and sweets, she was asking for a miracle. How do you explain to a seven-year-old that there are some things Santa just can’t fix?

  Dad tries. ‘Kazia, I wish it could be that simple.’

  I haven’t forgotten what Dad said would happen if the business failed. How could I?

  Mum sighs. ‘It’s good news really, girls,’ she says brightly. ‘No more nasty flat, no more struggles with the language. Things just haven’t worked out for us here. We’re going home, back to Krakow.’

  Kazia pulls away. ‘No!’ she says. ‘I like it here! I like school, and my friends, my teacher. I’m the best in my class at art, Miss Green says!’

  ‘Oh, Kazia,’ Dad says. ‘I’m sorry. We cannot stay. No jobs, and no money… not even enough for rent, for food. It’s all gone.’

  ‘Gran and Grandad are sending us money for air fares,’ Mum explains. ‘We’ll have the cheque by New Year, maybe sooner, and we’ll go right away. We can stay with them until we get back on our feet, find a flat of our own…’

  ‘No!’ Kazia argues. ‘We can’t! I want to go back to school. How will I see my friends, say goodbye to them?’

  ‘We’ll be gone before the term starts,’ Dad says. ‘It’s better this way.’

  ‘Do we have to go?’ I plead. ‘Kazia and I, we’re settled at school. We have friends. Our English gets better every day.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Anya,’ Dad says. ‘We have no choice.’

  No choice. Kids have no choice, kids like me and Kazia, uprooted and brought halfway across Europe to start from scratch because Dad had a dream. And now that the dream has crashed, we will be uprooted again, torn away from our new friends and taken back to where we started from. Are we supposed to pick up our old life again, three months on, as though nothing has come in between?

  If I’d listened to Dan… we could be running now, away from Liverpool, from peeling wallpaper and stolen boots and cheap white bread with no butter or jam. But I didn’t listen, and I should be glad, because Dan let me down, trampled all over my heart and walked away into the night.

  Maybe it’s just as well I’m going back to Krakow?

  I don’t believe that, though, not for a moment. Even with Dan out of the picture, Liverpool is where I want to be… it was my dream too, after all. I want to stay, work on my English, be with my friends, see whether the picture-postcard cottage with the roses around the door actually exists.

  I want to stay.

  ‘I asked Santa!’ Kazia argues. ‘St Nicholas! He promised, and I have been good, very good, so definitely he will fix it! You’ll see!’

  I can’t sleep. An hour ago, Kazia crawled into bed with me, her face wet with tears. Her arms twined around me and we stayed that way, me stroking her hair, until she drifted into sleep.

  Three months ago, I was packing to come to Liverpool, full of hopes and dreams that fizzled and died in the relentless British drizzle. I hated Liverpool at first, but that was before I got to know it. Now I can see that it has a crumbling kind of beauty, a chaotic warmth, a crazy, quirky heart, and I will miss it. I’ll miss Frankie and Kurt too. I will even miss Dan.

  My mind slips back to the dance, replaying those scenes, those words. Dan Carney… and Lily Caldwell. It doesn’t make sense. It’s like the worst ever betrayal, the sharpest cut. I got Dan so, so wrong, but still, I’ll miss him. I’ll miss him and I will never, ever forget him.

  I wish I hadn’t told Dan that he was like his dad. I saw his face crumple with hurt, and for a split second I was glad. Now, though, I’m not so sure. Hurting someone who has hurt you doesn’t make you feel better. Sometimes, it makes you feel worse.

  Kazia stirs and stretches, and I sigh, my heart dull and heavy in my chest, my eyes dry and aching with unshed tears. Somewhere around two o’clock, I think I hear a bicycle bell outside, and I run to the window.

  There’s nobody there, of course.

  I must have fallen asleep eventually, because when I wake it’s past nine. I hear Dad shout goodbye, that he’ll be back later, and the front door clicks. The day looks overcast and heavy, the way I feel.

  I roll out from under the covers, taking refuge in the bathroom to shower and dress. Slowly, I wash away the sparkly make-up from last night, the glitter from my hair. I wish it was as easy to wash away the taste of disappointment.

  The doorbell rings, and my heart leaps.

  Maybe Dan woke feeling the same way I do? I’m not sure what kind of explanation could make me feel better now, but if he tried, that would be something. And at least we could say goodbye…

  ‘Anya!’ Mum is calling. ‘Are you up?’

  I slick on some eyeliner and go through, but it’s not Dan, it’s his mum. Ben and Nate are squashed up on the sofa with Kazia, watching a cutesy Christmas film, and Karen Carney is sitting at the table in the little kitchenette, her eyes shadowed, scared.

  ‘Have you seen him?’ she asks, and my heart sinks down to my boots. ‘Have you seen Dan? We had a row yesterday, and he slammed out of the house and he hasn’t been back. All night! I’m worried sick.’

  I swallow. ‘Dan… he was at the school dance, last night,’ I say. ‘We talked, and then… well, we had a row too. Dan walked away. I haven’t seen him since.’

  ‘What time was this?’ Mum asks.

  ‘Ten to ten, maybe?’ I say.

  ‘Why hasn’t he been home?’ Karen wails. ‘I’m worried sick! What if he’s run away? I said such terrible things to him, and I know he’s a good boy really. If he was in troubl
e at school, it was my fault. I’ve been so wrapped up with the cafe, for months and months now…’

  I feel cold all over. Running away… isn’t that exactly what Dan planned to do?

  Mum puts an arm round Karen’s shoulders. ‘Don’t blame yourself,’ she says. ‘You do your best for your boys, the best you can.’

  ‘But it wasn’t good enough,’ Dan’s mum sighs. ‘Dan was off school such a lot – there was always a school trip he wasn’t going on, or a toothache, or a headache that wore off as fast as it started. I should have known they were excuses. I should have known he was truanting!’

  ‘Dan wanted to help,’ I try to explain. ‘He wanted to be there for you.’

  ‘I know,’ Karen says. ‘And I let him. I didn’t ask too many questions because I didn’t want to know the answers. And now he’s disappeared…’

  I bite my lip. ‘Mrs Carney,’ I say, and everyone turns to look at me. ‘Last night – well, Dan was talking about running away. I told him it wasn’t a good idea, but…’

  Mum blinks. ‘Could he have gone to see his dad maybe?’

  ‘That’s not possible,’ Mrs Carney whispers. ‘James is in Manchester, staying with… with his… his friend.’

  ‘We should check,’ Mum says gently. ‘Do you have a mobile number for Dan’s dad?’

  I sit on the edge of the sofa, shaky and sad. I remember the things Dan said last night, about his dad, about wanting to see him, talk to him. I remember the two of us yelling in the dark. I told Dan he was exactly like his dad, and watched his face fall. My stomach churns with guilt, thick and sour and sickly.

  If anyone made Dan run away, it was me.

  ‘James?’ Mrs Carney is saying. ‘It’s me. Is Dan there? He hasn’t been home, and I wondered if… well, if he could be with you?’

  I sneak a look at Karen Carney, and watch her face fall. Dan is obviously not at his dad’s, and a prickle of fear slides down my spine. So where is he?

  ‘James, what shall I do?’ Karen whispers, her voice cracking as the tears begin. ‘It’s all my fault. Anything could have happened to him! Oh, God… I’d better call the police!’

  She lets the phone slide from her fingers.

  Mum puts her arms round Karen Carney the way she does with Kazia and me when we’re tired or sad or sick. ‘Be strong,’ she says gently. ‘Dan needs you to be brave. You must go to the police, and then take the boys home, wait there, in case Dan turns up, or calls. The police will do everything they can, Karen, and if there’s anything we can help with…’

  Karen Carney wipes a blur of tears from her tired eyes. ‘No, no, you’ve done enough,’ she whispers. ‘Unless… the cafe. I don’t suppose…?’

  Mum smiles. ‘Of course,’ she says. ‘It’s Christmas Eve. It could be a busy day for the cafe, and the last thing we need is another business folding around here, right? We will keep the place running until Dan is found. I promise.’

  Heaven is the busiest I’ve ever seen it. Every table is full of shoppers sipping hot chocolate or steaming lattes, eating cake, laughing. There’s no way Mum, Kazia and I can cope with this alone, so I call Frankie, tell her Dan is missing. She’s here within five minutes, Kurt in tow, with hugs and a can-do attitude.

  ‘I’m sorry, Anya,’ she tells me. ‘I know I’ve always said Dan is trouble, but only because I didn’t want you to get hurt. You know I like him really, right? I hope he’s OK…’

  ‘He’ll turn up,’ Kurt tells me. ‘The police will find him. Try not to worry.’

  ‘I’m not,’ I whisper, but my voice cracks dangerously and I have to turn away before my eyes mist and blur.

  Frankie and Kurt work flat out all morning, taking orders and waiting on tables. Even Ringo has been dragged from his corner to help. Like Frankie’s mum, he met someone special at the Lonely Hearts Club, and he’s been floating around, all starry-eyed, ever since. He’s singing – Beatles songs, of course – as he wipes the tabletops and stacks the dishwasher.

  Me, I fill out the orders and make the drinks and try hard to keep the fear and guilt about Dan from swamping me.

  The sweet, spicy smell of Christmas fills the cafe as Mum bakes batches of honey cakes and spiced gingerbread, with Kazia as her assistant. The CD plays carols on a loop and every customer seems happy. It’d almost be fun, if it weren’t for the worry gnawing away at my heart. I try not to think about Lily or the kiss or Dan’s angel wings lying trampled on the frosty ground.

  It’s safer not to.

  ‘What happened to you at the dance last night, anyway?’ Frankie asks, slapping down one scribbled order for cake and coffee on to the counter. ‘You disappeared, left me on my lonesome with Kurt… and now Dan’s done a runner.’ Frankie’s face clouds. ‘Hang on, have I missed something here?’

  I sigh. ‘I had a big row with Dan,’ I admit. ‘I thought we were getting on OK… getting closer, maybe. And then I saw him kissing Lily Caldwell.’

  ‘You saw her kissing him, you mean,’ Kurt scoffs, dumping a tray of piled-up plates and mugs on the counter. ‘Lily was threatening everyone with that sprig of mistletoe. I bet she couldn’t wait to corner him!’

  I frown. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘If someone asks you for a kiss and there’s mistletoe around, you can’t say no,’ he explains. ‘It’s an old Christmas tradition. Don’t you have that one in Poland?’

  I blink. ‘I’m not sure… Maybe…’ I whisper.

  Kurt shrugs. ‘Dan probably didn’t stand a chance.’ He takes a freshly loaded tray from me and heads back out into the crowd.

  I think back to the dance, to the moment I saw Dan and Lily, her arms locked round his neck. Could Dan have been backing away slightly? Maybe it wasn’t quite what it seemed?

  I frown. ‘But… but… he didn’t exactly struggle.’

  Frankie raises an eyebrow. ‘Anya,’ she says patiently. ‘He’s a boy. When a girl comes at them with mistletoe, they kiss first and think later. There were a lot of mistletoe kisses last night. You can’t take them too seriously. You know I’ve had my doubts about you and Dan,’ Frankie says. ‘But… well, you can’t really blame him for this. Lily’s always fancied him, and whatever you saw, I bet it was pretty one-sided. It’s not like they got together or anything – at the end of the night, Lily was in the girls’ loos, crying. Her mascara was all down her cheeks, and she said she was through with boys. They were all rats, she said.’

  Relief floods through me, followed by a dawning dismay. It looks like I jumped to the wrong conclusion – and that makes the things I said to Dan even worse. I lashed out, wanting to hurt him. And I guess I succeeded.

  Guilt churns in my stomach, mixed up with fear. Where is Dan? If he was headed for his dad’s place, wouldn’t he be there by now? I glance at the clock. It’s just past one. Dan has been missing too long. It’s fifteen hours since I last saw him – since anyone last saw him.

  ‘Hey,’ Frankie says softly, sliding an arm round my shoulders. ‘Chin up, honey. Dan’s a big boy. He can look after himself. Things will work out.’

  ‘I hope so.’

  ‘I bet he goes to his dad’s,’ she says. ‘Try not to worry, Anya.’

  Kurt hurries up to the counter again, balancing a fresh tray of piled-up crockery while delivering yet another order for cakes and coffee. Frankie winks at me. ‘Face it,’ she grins. ‘Whatever Lily reckons, I’d say rats are smarter than boys. Possibly better looking, too…’

  ‘Watch it,’ Kurt laughs, flicking her with a dishcloth. ‘Did she tell you, Anya? About us?’

  ‘Hang on!’ Frankie says. ‘I’m getting to it. Thing is, last night… after you vanished, we were stuck with each other. We got talking, and then we danced, and then…’

  ‘She asked me out,’ Kurt says.

  ‘You asked me!’ Frankie insists.

  ‘She did,’ Kurt repeats. ‘And I said maybe, but she’s kind of determined, so I guess there’s no escape…’

  I dredge up a grin. ‘Finally!’ I tell them. ‘It�
��s about time! I am glad for you, really. You make a great couple.’

  ‘Sorry to interrupt, kids,’ Ringo says, looming up to clear away the trays of dirty crockery. ‘But we’ve got a busy cafe here, guys. People are waiting for their orders!’

  I sigh and start setting out the trays, and Frankie and Kurt head back into the fray. The tips bowl beside the till fills up, is emptied and fills up again. Five or six people are huddled beside the cafe door, waiting to be seated. There has never been a queue here before, that’s for certain.

  The cupcakes, meringues and cream slices are selling fast, and even Mum’s freshly baked honey cakes and gingerbread are dwindling. In the kitchen, two of Mum’s big Christmas cakes, rich with fruit and spices, are cooling on a rack, ready to be iced, and she’s mixing up a sponge cake batter when the cafe door opens with a jingle and Karen Carney rushes in, with Ben and Nate behind her.

  My stomach lurches. I want to ask about Dan, but my tongue is dry as dust, tangled in my mouth. The tray I’m loading with milkshakes and meringues slides out of my hands and on to the floor. Silence settles over the busy cafe, and Ringo has to rush forward with a mop to clear up the mess.

  Mum comes out of the kitchen, Kazia behind her.

  ‘Have they found him?’ she asks. ‘What’s happening? Have they found Dan?’

  Karen Carney just smiles and nods and falls into Mum’s arms. ‘He’s safe,’ she says into the silence. ‘He’s at his dad’s. The police are there right now, and James has promised to bring him home as soon as everything is sorted. Dan’s safe!’

  A few customers look puzzled, but someone in the corner starts to clap and pretty soon the whole place is cheering and yelling out ‘Happy Christmas’. Dan is safe – he may not care about me any more, he may not be speaking to me, but still, he’s safe. I take a deep breath in and my body starts to relax for the first time in hours.