‘Oh, Twilight, so glad I’ve caught you. I know you’re busy these days, what with the new café and everything. Very exciting! Everyone’s talking about it. We can’t wait for you to open. I got your invitation, by the way. Thank you ever so much.’
‘Oh, good, I hope you can come.’
‘I’ll be there!’ she says cheerily. ‘But, Twilight, I was hoping you could do me a huge favour?’
‘Of course. If I can.’
‘Well. We’ve got our craft fair today on the village green, as you probably know. We’re raising funds for the village hall and we had Lucy Slater coming along to do the judging in the baking tent. The thing is, she’s cancelled on us at the last minute and, well, we were hoping that we might be able to persuade you to step in. I know it’s terribly short notice …’
‘Oh. Right. So Lucy just cancelled? Did she give you a reason?’
‘None at all.’
Bloody typical!
I glance at my watch. It’s just after three now. ‘Well, I’m sure I could help. What time would you need me?’
‘The prizes are being awarded at four-thirty, so if you could come along now that would be fabulous.’
‘Oh. The thing is, I’ve sort of got a loose arrangement with a reporter. She might be coming round at about four.’
‘Oh, right.’ There’s a pause and I can almost hear her brain ticking over, anxiously scrabbling for a solution. ‘Well, don’t worry. We’ll try and find someone else.’
‘Would it take long? The judging?’
‘Oh, no, not really. There are five categories and you’d be tasting cakes from each. Half an hour, maybe?’
I hesitate. I like Rose and she sounds in a real predicament. It’s typically selfish of Lucy to cancel at the last minute without a reason, especially when she seemed perfectly all right when I saw her in the street half an hour ago!
‘Listen, I’ll do it. I’ll come along now.’ If I hurry, I can be back before four.
‘You will?’ Rose sounds incredibly relieved. ‘Oh, Twilight, that is so good of you! Thank you ever so much!’
It turns out to be good fun, sampling the cakes and scones and awarding them rosettes. Lots of people want to know about The Treehouse Café, which is very reassuring, so of course I stay to talk to them about it. By the time I finally leave the tent and head home, it’s five to four.
When I get back, there’s a note on the mat from the journalist.
They were here a little earlier than expected. Sorry to find I wasn’t in but maybe they could come back next week sometime?
I could kick myself. Such a great opportunity gone to waste! I know it will probably still happen, but being in tomorrow’s edition would have been amazing.
I shake my head in dismay. Even when Lucy Slater isn’t even trying to, she still manages to muck things up for me!
*****
It’s the following morning and I’m at Paloma’s flat, helping her design a little flag with a floral border, on which I can write the name of each individual cake.
‘Lucy apologised to me yesterday.’
Paloma is leaning forward concentrating on the screen. ‘Hmm?’
‘She apologised in the street.’
Paloma turns with a confused look. ‘Sorry, I could have sworn you just said Lucy apologised.’
‘I did.’
‘What?’
‘I know. Weird, huh? I mean, why now?’
Paloma sits back in the chair. ‘What was she apologising for exactly?’
‘God knows. Making my life a misery at school? Getting her claws into Jason? Sewing kippers into my curtains? Your guess is as good as mine.’
‘Yeah, well, don’t trust her.’
I laugh. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t. She doesn’t scare me any more. But that doesn’t mean I won’t be watching her like a hawk to make sure she doesn’t come within a mile of The Treehouse Café!’
‘Especially in the run-up to the opening ceremony.’
My heart beats faster at the thought of Sunday. ‘Oh my God, it’s really happening.’ My insides shift uneasily. ‘Mind you, I keep getting a worrying feeling of déjà vu. It’s not the first café I’ve launched. And remember what happened last time.’
Paloma nods thoughtfully. ‘The phrase “damp squib” comes to mind. But this time it’s different.’
‘How?’
She shrugs. ‘There’s a fantastic buzz about The Treehouse Café. Everyone’s talking about it. You finally found your Unique Selling Point!’
‘I hope so.’ I swallow hard. ‘I really do hope so.’
Paloma nips away to make coffee, leaving me to play about with the floral border. I notice that she’s been looking at Jake’s website, so I click on it, expecting to see something really basic. I seem to remember her saying it was rubbish and that a five-year-old could design a better one.
But to my surprise, it’s really attractive, with photos of the treehouses beautifully laid out and headings in red, green, and blue, in a lovely, curly font reminiscent of a child’s handwriting.
‘I thought you said Jake’s website was rubbish,’ I say when she walks back in.
She colours slightly. ‘It was rubbish. But I’ve revamped it.’
‘Oh.’ I’m taken aback. ‘But I didn’t think you liked him.’
She shrugs. ‘Business is business.’ Then she sighs. ‘Actually, he didn’t pay me for it.’
‘What?’
She looks at me, quirking her lips at one side. ‘I wasn’t going to tell you.’
‘What? You fancy Jake?’
‘You’re joking. Of course I don’t. He’s probably more of an arrogant arse than Rufus,’ she says, scowling at the memory of her ex. ‘No, when he told you he couldn’t work on your treehouse for a while because he had another commission, I – um – phoned him up and offered to redesign his crap website if he managed to make you a priority client.’
I gape at her.
She shrugs, looking anywhere but at me. ‘So he did. And that’s why his shit website now looks half-decent.’
‘Paloma! You didn’t have to do that. But it’s so lovely of you! I need to pay you for the work you did for Jake, though. Why didn’t you tell me what
