Chapter 24
‘ Y ou’re Lucas’s mum and dad?’ Clem said, to confirm her suspicions.
Meredith had said Lucas has told us all about you .
She had to repeat that in her head to process it.
He’d told his parents about her . She wanted to ask what he’d said but the conversation was already moving forward and she didn’t know how to backtrack.
‘Aye,’ said Richie, hobbling over to a table in a corner, and dropping into a chair with a laboured sigh.
‘Bloody knees, they’re a nightmare today.
Ah, that’s better.’ He sank back into his seat.
When he looked around, taking in the place, his expression changed, the frown of pain smoothing out into something more curious.
‘There’s a cat up there!’ he cried, pointing up to a U-shaped shelf built into the wall, his voice as high-pitched as a child’s.
A long, brown tail was dangling over the edge. ‘Look, Meredith!’
‘I see it,’ said Meredith, moving towards the table and smiling at him softly.
‘You can order your drinks over there at the counter,’ Clem explained, gesturing over to Emmie, who waved at them from her spot behind the counter. ‘Drinks are unlimited when you’ve paid for some time here. Food is extra. But I’m sure our receptionist explained that already.’
‘Thank you,’ said Meredith. ‘What would you like, Richie? Some cake?’
Richie craned himself forward, gritting his teeth as he did so, looking at the big chalkboard menu hanging over the counter, and the rows of doughnuts and slices of cake piled up in the glass cases.
‘I’ll have one of her famous cat doughnuts,’ he replied. ‘And a black coffee.’
‘I’ll be right back,’ said Meredith, heading over to place their order with Emmie.
Clem hovered by the table, knowing she had to get to work, but finding her feet unable to move – she was curious about Lucas’s parents. Lucas’s father had actually visited; she was surprised Lucas wasn’t with them. Maybe he wanted to avoid her, after everything.
Binx wandered over, his shoulders swaying from side to side and his tail high in the air, and hopped up onto the table in front of Richie, who laughed in delight. He’d only just walked through the door and his joy was infectious – she found herself mirroring his expression.
‘Hello, who have we got here?’ said Richie. He stroked along Binx’s body, and when he reached his rear end, Binx curled his tail around his hand, lifting his head into the air and purring.
‘That’s Binx,’ said Clem. ‘Sylvie said she named him after a cat in a movie – Hocus Pocus ? He likes to sit on laptops when people are working. I think he likes the warm fans. So he’s always jumping onto tables.’
‘There’s no laptop here, little dude, but you’re welcome to stay,’ said Richie. As if he’d understood, Binx sat down, tail curled around himself, and allowed Richie to keep petting him. Binx’s eyes were fixed on the window, watching a bird loop past the trees, his pupils thinned.
‘You’ve been giving my son a run for his money,’ said Richie.
Meredith returned to the table with a tray of food and drinks, and dropped into a chair close to him.
He rubbed his hands together in glee and winced again, stretching out his fingers and placing them on his thighs instead.
‘I can’t wait to try one of your doughnuts – see if they’re as good as—’
‘Don’t intimidate the poor girl,’ Meredith warned him, shooting Clem a kind-eyed look.
‘I’m glad you came,’ said Clem honestly. ‘Sylvie mentioned you might.’
‘I always meant to bring Richie.’ She hesitated, as if she were going to elaborate, but she didn’t. ‘I’ve been here before to see Sylvie, through my work at the cat shelter. You won’t have seen me if you work in the kitchen.’
‘I’m usually hidden away in there,’ said Clem. ‘Speaking of – I have to get to work now. Enjoy yourselves.’
Clem left them to it, stowing her bag and jacket in the staffroom and heading through to the kitchen, getting herself settled for the day. She pulled a cat-print apron and a black hairnet on.
Lucas was at the forefront of her mind. Did his parents mean she’d simply come up in passing, in conversation about the contest?
Or had he said something more specific about her?
The kiss sprang into her mind, the feel of his mouth soft against hers, mingling with the rain.
The way his fingers had brushed hers in the library, years ago – she still remembered the shock it had sent through her system.
She couldn’t stop thinking about him as she mixed ingredients and spread out the mixture for her cat biscuits on baking trays.
By the time they were baking in the oven, she’d decided to get in touch with him.
She pulled off her apron and went into the staffroom.
Yanking her phone from her jacket pocket, she brought up his name, hesitating at the sight of his picture, that messy dark hair. Taking a steadying breath, she typed out a message.
I saw your parents at the cat café. I’m glad they came. Your dad seemed happy.
After a brief hesitation, she added something extra:
I won’t go easy on you, so you better do your best to win.
Meeting his parents had softened her, and she really didn’t want to show any ill will, even if nothing more would ever happen between them – so she added a smiling cat emoji to show that she was half joking.
He replied while she was making herself a cup of tea in the staffroom.
They didn’t tell me they were going. I’m glad.
Thanks for telling me.
Bubbles appeared on the screen, indicating he was typing something else. The message popped up as she was stirring sugar into her tea.
You better do your best as well. Cats are meant to land on their feet, so I’m sure you can handle anything they throw at you, right?
He followed the message up with a series of dog emojis, and the playful rivalry in the message made her pulse quicken in ways she wished it wouldn’t.
*
Clem had spent almost all of her free time at the cat café, prepping for the final round of the contest and practising her bake.
It was a cake, and cakes were her forte.
For this finale, Whisked Away wanted them to make a knockout cake worthy of a glossy magazine cover: a detailed diorama representing their business.
So, Clem was planning on making a cake that looked like Catpurrcino, complete with the shopfront – the cats in the windows, of course – the beige and white awning, and the chalkboard sign they kept outside.
She was adding the cherry blossom tree out front, positioned to the left of the building, in all its bright pink glory.
It wasn’t in bloom anymore, now summer was in full swing, but it was one of her favourite things about the café.
She’d wanted to make the cake bright and happy, a reflection of the way people felt when they visited, and Sylvie’s aim that the café be a place of refuge and comfort.
She was testing a different type of sponge – vanilla had been too bland when she tried that out, but strawberry sponge with a thick cream sounded perfect, and she’d decided to try putting fresh strawberries in there, too.
She’d chosen to make it dairy-free and vegan; she wanted to make this diorama something that would include as many people as possible.
Clem had been looking online for inspiration, and how best to do it.
She was sitting in the Cat Lounge with her laptop open on her knee.
It was a bright and clear day, sunlight pooling across the leather sofa, and she was sitting in a patch of shade so she could see the laptop screen clearly.
Lilian was perched on the seat next to her, dozing in the sunshine, which was warming up her patches of black, white, and orange fur.
Clem’s phone buzzed on the arm of the sofa beside her – when she checked it, her mum’s name was flashing up on the screen.
She took the call, still absent-mindedly scrolling through a cookery website about the best types of vegan cream. ‘Hello?’
‘Hi sweetie!’ her mum trilled. ‘Are you at Catpurrcino again?’
‘Yep, still practising. Where are you?’
‘I just left a photo shoot. Are you coming home soon?’
‘I’ll probably be here another hour or two,’ she said. ‘I want to test this strawberries and cream—’
‘Say no more. How about you let me taste-test, if you don’t mind some company?’
‘Ha, okay. Phone me when you get here and I’ll let you in.’
About thirty minutes later, her mum had arrived.
Clem let her in via the back door, and took her through the narrow corridor, past the kitchen, and out into the main café room.
Here, her mum paused to make a fuss of the cats.
Many of them were sleeping, dotted around the cat towers and shelves, but Eric strutted over when he caught wind of a newcomer, his bobbed tail wiggling in delight.
‘Ah, hey, cutie!’ her mum crooned, crouching down to give him a tickle under the chin. ‘I feel sorry for Mish. She’s been on her own all afternoon.’ She crossed to one of the cat towers to give Duchess some attention, running her hands over her fur.
Clem felt a crescendo of guilt. ‘I wanted to go home sooner but the vanilla sponge wasn’t working the way I wanted it to, and I wanted to try something new.’
‘Ah, she’ll be fine though, she’s probably slept the day away. You said strawberries and cream . . . ?’
‘Come through here and I’ll show you.’
She led her mum into the Cat Lounge, where Lilian was snoozing.
She looked up when they stepped inside, her big green eyes shimmering in the sun and her dark pupils barely visible.
Clem grabbed her laptop and gestured for her mum to sit down.
Once she’d sunk onto the leather beside Lilian – who immediately ran away at the movement – Clem placed the laptop in front of her and clicked into her planning document.
‘Here’s what I’m thinking. All my ideas are in there.’
Her mum fell silent as she digested everything.
Clem had pages of notes. She had images of cakes she’d saved for inspiration, notes on what she wanted the cake to look like, clippings from websites with tips on dairy-free and vegan cakes, photos of the cat café shopfront to make sure she got it right and didn’t miss anything.
She’d typed out a few sentences on what she wanted to say to the judges when she presented the diorama to them.
She’d never done so much prepping before.
But she wanted to go up against Lucas with everything she had.
‘This is great, Clem,’ said her mum. Jess strolled in and hopped up onto the sofa behind her, nuzzling her hair. Her mum reached round and stroked Jess’s head; the big black-and-white cat erupted into a series of vibrating purrs.
Clem sighed. ‘I heard on the weather that there’s going to be a big summer heatwave. Hotter than usual. Right when the last round is happening. It’ll be harder to concentrate in a hot tent full of ovens – during a heatwave. Where’s the rubbish British summer when you need it?’
Her mum smiled. ‘I heard about that. But I still think you’re going to win.’
‘You have to say that though. You’re my mum. It’s your job.’
For a long moment, her mum was silent, studying her, though she was still tickling Jess’s furry cheek. ‘I know you’ve been giving yourself a hard time, Clem,’ her mum answered. ‘About mistakes you’ve made, about not entering the contest yourself.’
Clem swallowed. She’d expressed some of these feelings to her mum over the course of the contest, so it wasn’t like it was a secret between them. ‘I know.’
‘The thing is, you have almost everything you need already,’ her mum continued.
‘Do I?’ said Clem, because she wasn’t sure. She was never sure, always questioning and running over the what-ifs.
‘You have the skills, the talent. You solved the problem with the kitten buns and didn’t let that faze you. And you work hard. You know exactly what you want. You’re only missing one tiny thing.’
‘What am I missing?’
‘Faith in yourself.’ Her mum dropped her hand from Jess’s fur, and instead pulled Clem towards her, squeezing an arm around her shoulder. ‘You can do whatever you set your mind to, and handle whatever life throws your way.’