*****
The next few days – Friday and Saturday – pass in a frenzyof baking with Anita and Katja.
On the Saturday morning, before I leave for the bakingschool, Rich arrives early to remove the old kitchen units and get started onthe plastering, saying he’ll come back and continue the next day. He tells meLiam is coming over to help, but I can’t stick around and wait for him (much asI really want to) because there’s so much still to do for French PatisserieSunday.
Liam did say he’d be at the cake celebration, but I’m tryingnot to rely on it in case I’m disappointed.
In any case, I’ve got far too much to do before then to eventhink about Liam!
And then, after some concentrated effort and lots of laughs,working alongside Anita and Katja – plus a lot of panic that we might not beready in time – French Patisserie Sunday finally arrives.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The day dawns bright and sunny, and there’s no rain inthe forecast, which is great news for Ellie because it means she can extend thecafé out into the back garden.
We open at eleven, and by nine we’re all there – even Clara,who’s delayed her return to college so that she can support Ellie’s charityfund-raiser, alongside her best friend Jen, whose boyfriend, Harlyn, runs the foodbank in Sunnybrook.
While Anita, Katja and I put the finishing touches to thecakes and pastries in the baking school and make lots of spun sugar to decoratethe toweringcroquembouche,Primrose, Ellie, Jen and Clara all rallyround at the café, setting up the garden tables and chairs, and hangingcolourful bunting from tree to tree in the back garden – an echo of the jollyblue, red and white bunting that’s already cheering up the café frontage. Alarge sign, designed by Maddy, is draped above the entrance, announcing ‘FrenchPatisserie Sunday!’ to all passers-by, with the name of the café in French insmaller letters beneath.
Carrying thecroquemboucheon its presentation plinthacross to the café takes a lot of concentration and two pairs of very steadyhands. Luckily, there’s very little breeze today, otherwise the ducks on the villagegreen pond might well have enjoyed an unexpected feast of delectable vanillaand chocolate choux buns and spun sugar!
But finally, it’s taking pride of place at the end of thecounter, and everything else is in order. All the delicate little cakes arelined up in perfect rows of lusciousness under glass beneath the counter. Andnot a moment too soon, either, because the first visitors are already walkingacross the green, and the first car of the day is pulling into the little carpark...
After that, it’s all hands to the pump as we busy ourselvesserving delighted customers, most of whom opt to sit in the café or the garden witha cup of coffee or tea to accompany their slice of French patisserie heaven.The bakery, too, is doing a roaring trade next-door, Jen and Clara sendinghappy customers on their way with bags full of macarons and boxes ofmillefeuilles, and my favourite, the dark chocolate-enrobed peanut butter andsour cherry globes.
We made more than we thought we’d need – of everything – whichis just as well because the good weather seems to have brought out the entirevillage, all hoping for a final burst of summer!
I take turns serving behind the counter and clearing tablesin the café and out in the garden, and I barely have the time to glance at newarrivals through the door, although I’m fairly certain a sixth sense will tellme when Liam Westerbrook is in the building!
During a brief lull in activity, I wander over to the windowand glance out, checking my watch. It’s almost two-thirty and Liam still hasn’tappeared.
Then, going out to the garden with my tray and cloth, I suddenlyspot Dorothy sitting at one of the tables, chatting to an older woman with short,iron grey hair, casually dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt and a pair ofwell-used walking boots.
My heart gives a little skip of hope, just as Dorothy spotsme and waves me over excitedly.
‘Lottie, come and meet my Auntie Josie,’ she calls.
My eyes widen. So itisher. How wonderful!
Dorothy gets up and I say hello to them both, setting downthe tray as Dorothy gives me the most enormous hug. ‘We found her, thanks toyou,’ she murmurs happily.
Josie is smiling warmly at me over her niece’s shoulder. ‘Ibelieve I have you to thank for encouraging my lovely niece to seek me out inthe Lake District?’
Dorothy nods, letting me go at last. ‘I’d never have foundyou if it wasn’t for Lottie. And I’d also never have found out what an amazingplace that doggy hotel is.’
Josie’s blue eyes are bright in her tanned, slightlyweather-beaten face. ‘I’d no idea everyone was so worried about me. I’dforgotten my charger so my phone was useless, and I felt absolutely terriblewhen Dorothy arrived and I realised I was a missing person.’
‘Oh, never mind that. I’m just glad you’re back,’ smilesDorothy.
‘I just had to get away after I lost Max. Being at homewithout the little tinker was driving me slowly mad.’
I smile sadly. ‘I know that feeling. So you went somewherethat was comfortingly familiar?’
She nods. ‘When I arrived, there were all these other dogs,and at first I thought I’d made a big mistake because all I could think of wasall the walks I’d taken there with Max. But the place is just so inspiring, insuch wonderful surroundings, and everyone was so understanding. I’d got to knowthe staff there on my previous visits and they all went out of their way tomake it a peaceful, healing time for me.’
‘The deputy manager’s springer spaniel has just had pups,’says Dorothy, ‘and she’s thinking she might take one.’
‘Oh, no.’ Josie shakes her head. ‘It’s far too soon to eventhink about that.’
