The Winner Bakes It All

Chapter 7

That evening, Elodie cleaned up her kitchen while Marty sorted out the shop and packaged up the cakes that wouldn’t last an extra day. She liked to leave the kitchen spotless, ready for the next day. Everything gleamed and smelled faintly of bleach. It gave her a glow of satisfaction to see it. Pulling off her apron, she bagged it up to take home and wash.

‘Okay. I’m done here.’ She grabbed her coat and the bag of washing and went into the shop front. ‘What have we got that’s short on use-by date?’

Marty was sitting on the sill by the window, frowning at his phone.

‘Marty?’

‘I think you should see this,’ he said, slowly.

His tone was cautious, which meant that Elodie was immediately worried too. ‘What now?’

It was a TikTok on Saffron’s channel. She was talking about Man Buns and how they got ahead of the game by knowing people in the gym. Elodie watched it twice.

‘The comments are pretty wild,’ said Marty. ‘They’re going on about the patriarchy and toxic masculinity … I mean, patriarchy, sure. But from what I’ve heard Jake’s gym is blokey, but not all that bad. Apparently, he’s like some sort of personal trainer and shrink rolled into one. His clients seem to love him.’

‘What are you trying to say, Marty?’ She read some of the comments over his shoulder. Some of them sounded pretty angry. It wasn’t a huge reach to think that someone could have got riled up enough to vandalise the café on the basis of Saffron’s post, even though it was fairly mild in its criticism.

‘I think we might have an explanation for why their shop got beaned. Looking at some of the comments, I think they got off lightly.’

Elodie chewed her lip. ‘So … was I kind of responsible for it, then?’

Marty didn’t reply, but his expression was rueful. ‘I think Saffron didn’t think things through when she posted it – it’s in keeping with her brand, which is feminist and all about women – but I don’t think she realised that someone would take things into their own hands like that.’

Elodie got her own phone out. ‘I’ll text her and tell her about the attack. She probably has no idea.’ She drafted a message and showed it to Marty to sense check it before she hit send.

‘There. Done.’ She looked out at the café. The front was dark, but she could see the light on in the kitchen. Was that what Mal had meant when he marched in here being angry? She had thought he was accusing her of throwing the actual beans, but what if he’d meant that she and Saffron had whipped up hatred? ‘I feel bad,’ she said. ‘Like I am somehow responsible for it.’

Marty shook his head. ‘You’re not. But maybe you should stop going around complaining about them nicking the lease from under you. It doesn’t do you any favours.’

She sighed. That made sense. Just because she was angry, she shouldn’t share her views like that. ‘I see that.’ She looked up at the ceiling. ‘I suppose,’ she said, slowly, ‘I should go and apologise? About the TikTok.’

‘Might not hurt.’ Marty stood up and grabbed his own jacket. He patted the box that was on the counter. ‘There isn’t much today. A few scones and a couple of cakes. Do you want to drop it round at the shelter or shall I?’

‘I’ll do it.’ It gave her something else to do to delay going home. Besides, she liked seeing people at the homeless shelter. When she’d first heard of the idea of taking any food that had a short use-by date across, she’d thought she didn’t have enough to make it worthwhile, but it seemed that a lot of local shops making small donations made a big difference.

They locked up together. Marty set off, leaving Elodie holding the leftovers box, staring at the Man Buns café. Right. Well. If she was going to apologise, there was no point putting it off. She marched over. She could hear music and voices. There was a short burst of laughter from inside. She knocked on the glass as loudly as she could.

Mal came to the door. ‘Hello,’ he said, coldly. ‘Can I help you?’

‘I wanted to apologise,’ she said.

His eyebrows shot up. He had impressive eyebrows, she noticed. Thick and expressive.

‘Come in.’ He opened the door wider and turned on the lights in the front.

‘I … think I know what caused someone to throw beans at your shop,’ she said. ‘I think it was a TikTok that my friend Saffron did. I honestly didn’t ask her to do that. But she did and I think it might have led to ill feeling towards you and your shop. I just wanted to say I’m sorry.’

He stared at her, frowning a little, for a few seconds before he said, ‘Thank you. It’s not really your fault, the internet is a crazy place, but I appreciate you coming over to tell me.’

She noticed that he didn’t seem surprised or ask to see the TikTok. ‘You already knew, didn’t you?’

Now, a small smile. ‘I did.’

She felt a little silly. Of course he knew. Just because she didn’t do much with social media, it didn’t mean that others didn’t.

‘I genuinely do appreciate the apology,’ he said. ‘Listen. I think we got off to rather a bad start. Is there any chance we could start again?’

That was probably a sensible idea. She shrugged. ‘Okay.’ She squared her shoulders, shifted the box to her hip and offered her hand. ‘Hi. I’m Elodie. Baker and cake decorator.’

He pulled off his latex glove and clasped her hand firmly in his bigger one. ‘I’m Mal. I specialise in low-carb meals.’ He shook her hand and let go. ‘Come and meet the gang.’

Inside the kitchen, the radio was playing. His kitchen was bigger than hers, but also had no windows. An extractor fan rattled noisily. The walls were covered in shallow shelves which housed boxes and trays, much like the walls in her own kitchen. The far end of the room was dominated by two enormous fridges.

On the central work surface, trays of ingredients had been laid out to make three ‘stations’. Two teenagers – a girl and a boy – were layering things into lunch boxes. The last station, which had quiche, roast chicken and smoked salmon must have been Mal’s.

‘Liz, Archie, this is Elodie,’ said Mal.

They both said ‘hi’. Archie eyed the box she was holding.

‘We pack the lunch boxes the night before,’ said Mal. He gestured towards the lists where customers had ticked what they wanted. ‘People get to choose what they want, so that they can add up to the right number of grams of carbs. So the boxes can be very different from one another.’

‘What is the deal with carbs?’ She’d heard of the Atkins diet and keto, but didn’t really know what it was. It didn’t involve cake, so she’d pretty much ignored it.

Mal’s eyebrows knitted together. ‘Well … er … normally, we break down carbohydrates to make glucose and use that to get energy. If there are no carbs available, then we break down fats to get energy. With low-carb diets, you restrict the amount of carbs available and your body starts to break down fats instead to make ketones. Then the ketones get used to make energy. Some people use it for weight loss, but others find that it makes them feel better in very many ways and it becomes a lifestyle choice. The brain seems to like using ketones, compared to glucose, so it can help people with epilepsy, for example—’

One of the teenagers cleared their throat. They both gave Mal a meaningful glance.

‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I sometimes get carried away. But … basically, that’s it. Alternative energy source. Good for building muscle and reducing fat.’ He looked down, a little sheepish. It occurred to her that he might be a little awkward, socially.

‘I see,’ she said. She sort of did.

An uncomfortable silence descended. She cast about for a comment to break it.

‘You deliver these early in the morning?’ She knew he did. She had seen him come in before dawn.

‘I do. As soon as I can afford it, I’ll take on a driver to do that.’

‘I have a driver’s licence now,’ said Archie.

‘Not to drive a van, you don’t,’ said Mal. ‘Besides, you probably don’t fancy at 3.30 a.m. start to the day, I’m guessing.’

‘Ugh,’ said Archie. ‘No.’

He looked back at his work. There was another awkward silence. Elodie was all too aware that she was just standing there taking up space.

‘I just came over to say hello,’ she said. ‘I … should get going. It was nice to meet you all.’

They both murmured goodbye politely.

Mal followed her to the door. ‘Thanks for dropping by,’ he said. ‘I appreciate it.’

‘Hopefully, there won’t be a repeat of what happened,’ Elodie said.

‘Hopefully not.’ He smiled at her. It was a nice smile, she realised, and it was the first time she’d seen it. Had she been so prickly that all her interactions with him so far had been unpleasant ones? Probably. A new start was probably a good thing.

‘See you tomorrow.’ She set off into the night, heading for the homeless shelter. She should be able to get there well before the evening soup kitchen closed.

Mal returned to his station and pulled on fresh gloves. ‘Well, that was nice,’ he said. ‘I wasn’t expecting her to come and make peace.’

‘Could have brought us a cake,’ said Liz. ‘She had a whole box with her.’

‘Oh, she’s probably taking them to the homeless place,’ said Archie.

The others looked at him.

‘I used to volunteer there a couple of evenings a week,’ he said. ‘A lot of the local businesses have an arrangement to send surplus food to them at the end of the day. The cake lady brings the cakes and scones and things that are best before that day and drops them off. Some people try to time their visit to coincide with the cake drop.’

That was an insight he hadn’t been expecting. Mal looked speculatively at the food in front of him. ‘We don’t have much in the way of extra.’ He cross-checked his list against the order number written on the food box and started to add the main protein ingredients to the lunch boxes. ‘So I don’t think I’d be able to help there.’ Besides, he quite often ended up cobbling together any leftover bits into his own dinner. He rarely managed to make himself a hot meal after work these days.

‘You don’t have to have help with everything, Mal,’ said Liz. ‘You do lots for people.’

His first instinct was always to help. Jake said it was because he had an over-developed guilt complex and he was trying to make amends all the time, even when he had done nothing wrong. There was probably some truth in that. ‘Thanks, Liz,’ he said.

Something else occurred to him. ‘Archie. How come you don’t volunteer at the shelter anymore?’

‘Well, I’m here, working, aren’t I?’ The tone dripped with exasperated condescension.

He deserved that. ‘Oh, yeah. Sorry.’

Liz laughed. ‘Walked into that one, boss.’

Mal laughed too. A popular song came on the radio. The two teens started singing along to it. He turned his mind to his work, nodding his head along to the beat. Work felt less oppressive in company. This was the fun part of growing his business.

Things seemed to be improving in Mal’s café. Today, a few people had come in for coffee and a snack. Because it was half term Dilan had asked if he and his friends could hang out in there and play some tabletop card game that they were all into. He had been fine with that, especially as his nephew had said they’d all be buying something to eat and drink.

Priya had dropped Dilan off and rushed away to a meeting. He felt sorry for her. She was just getting back into working part time, but the lack of a carer for Dilan when he was off school made things difficult for her. Plus, she was so anxious about leaving him alone. Mal didn’t mind Dilan commandeering a space in the café. He often helped Mal by keeping an eye on the Man Buns social media feed. It turned out that his nephew had a delightful customer service voice online.

‘Um … bappa …’ Dilan said. ‘Who was the person whose wedding you’re catering for?’

‘One second.’ Mal double-checked what he was doing and hit send on the email. ‘Right. What was that?’

Dilan repeated the question.

‘Jamie,’ said Mal. ‘He’s a pretty well-known influencer around here. He tracked his fitness journey.’ He leaned against the counter and waited for Dilan to reply.

‘He’s marrying Saffron? The same lady who made snide comments about your shop a week ago.’

‘That’s right. She posted a retraction of sorts.’

‘You might want to see this.’

There was a wariness to his tone that set Mal’s senses on alert. He went into the café and leaned over Dilan’s shoulder. ‘What am I looking at?’

‘This is Saffron’s TikTok feed,’ said Dilan. Saffron was in a tasteful kitchen. A man stood beside her. Jamie. Saffron was laughing; so was Jamie. ‘It’s so funny,’ she was saying. ‘We thought we’d been really clear about who was doing what for this wedding, because it’s all a bit short notice, you know. We were being really intentional about it. Jamie sorted out the venue. I did dress code and design aesthetic – obviously. But it turns out …’ More laughter. ‘We both went out and sourced catering. Jamie asked his friend who does these fantastic low-carb lunches. And I asked someone who makes the most amazing cakes and desserts. Now we need to decide which kind of catering we want for the wedding.’ The video cut to a close-up. She bit her lip. ‘Could get awkward.’

The video looped back to the beginning. Mal watched it once again. ‘Hmm.’

‘Do you think the other person she’s talking about is the cake lady?’ Dilan asked.

Mal stood up, frowning. ‘It’s quite likely, isn’t it?’ What did this mean for him? He had competition from Elodie. On the other hand, there was always going to be competition, wasn’t there? This café lease had all but fallen into his lap, but he couldn’t expect everything to go as smoothly each time.

‘Sorry,’ said Dilan. ‘I just thought you’d like to see it.’

Mal went to ruffle the boy’s hair, but remembered that he didn’t like that nowadays and retracted his hand. ‘No, no. I’m glad you showed it to me. It’s nice to know when there’s competition. I just wish I’d known about it before I sent in my bid.’

Dilan frowned. ‘Would it have made a difference?’

Mal thought about it. ‘Maybe, maybe not. What I do for Mal’s Meals and in the café is very different to what the cake lady does. It’s just a coincidence that we’ve got one of my … customers linked up with one of hers.’ Even as he spoke, he wondered if that was true. Were their customers so different? Keto devotees didn’t do sugar, that much was true, but were all his customers really keto devotees?

‘Some people just think keto is a crash diet,’ Dilan said, with feeling. ‘Not, like, a whole lifestyle. They probably can have cake on weekends and on special occasions.’

Mal looked down at his nephew, fondly. It must be so hard for him. On the other hand, the diet was controlling his epilepsy so much better than any of the drugs had and with much milder side effects. A sudden thought occurred to him. He peered at Dilan’s phone. ‘What else is on that TikTok feed?’

‘Um …’ Dilan slowly scrolled through the feed. As always, Mal had to fight the urge to help.

‘Mostly home decor tips and things,’ Dilan said. ‘Oh wait … This looks like the cake shop.’

They watched the short clip showcasing the cupcakes in the shop. Saffron biting into a cake and a fleeting shot of Elodie’s worried face. A zoom in at the shop front, with the caption ‘best cakes ever’.

‘Wow,’ said Mal. ‘She’s really pushing it.’

‘A big fan. There’s more videos of her talking about wedding cakes and things.’ Dilan found another video. It was of an anniversary cake, white and decorated with delicate lacework. Saffron was saying, ‘I don’t think this is exactly what I want, but I like the details, just look at this.’ Elodie hovered in the background.

‘You’ve got to admit,’ said Dilan. ‘It’s a very pretty cake.’

‘She is very good at cake.’ Mal nodded.

‘You’re very good at your meals too, though.’

‘Aww. Thanks, bubba.’

Dilan glared at him. ‘Not a baby.’

‘Sorry. No. Thank you, young man.’

The boy rolled his eyes so hard that for a second Mal thought he was sliding into a seizure.

Dilan turned the screen on his phone off. ‘So, what happens now?’

‘Nothing,’ said Mal. ‘I guess we wait and see what the happy couple decides to do.’

Dilan gave this some thought. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I know this contract was important to you.’

‘It was, but it was also a risk,’ said Mal. ‘I’ve only just taken on this place. Taking on a catering contract that I’m not fully equipped to deal with might have been too much. Let’s see how it pans out, eh?’

Dilan leaned back in his chair. ‘How do you cope with that kind of uncertainty?’

Mal laughed. ‘It’s called being an adult,’ he said. ‘It’s less fun than it looks.’ Then he retreated back behind the counter before Dilan could tell him off for being patronising.

Elodie returned to the shop to find a South Asian lady peering at the cakes in the shop. Marty was explaining that the swirl-patterned cupcakes were chocolate and vanilla or cherry and white chocolate.

‘Old school marble cake,’ he said.

‘Have you got anything less … sugary?’ she said.

‘We have our signature fruit scones,’ said Marty. ‘Sometimes we have muffins too, but not today.’

‘I see. It’s so hard to choose.’

‘We usually have muffins midweek,’ Elodie said.

The woman jumped. She must not have realised that Elodie was behind her. ‘Oh,’ she said. Her demeanour, which had been relaxed until then, seemed to tense. ‘Hi.’

Elodie ignored the small squirm of discomfort. ‘I’m Elodie,’ she said. ‘I make the cakes.’ She smiled her best customer-facing smile.

‘Nice to meet you.’ The woman pointed to a cake. ‘That one please. It looks amazing. Thank you.’ She turned to Marty and paid up. ‘Thank you.’ Then she fled.

Elodie and Marty exchanged a glance and, in unspoken agreement, turned to watch where the woman went. She hurried across the arcade and, with a furtive glance over her shoulder, went into Man Buns.

‘Huh,’ said Marty. ‘Wonder what that’s all about?’

‘Has she been in before?’

‘Yes. A couple of times. I think she’s related to Mal.’

‘Do you think he sent her to spy on me?’ said Elodie. ‘Find out what I can make and then say he’ll make some sort of knock-off version? Did she take photos?’

Marty’s eyes were huge. ‘Erm … maybe. Maybe. And no …’ He leaned forward. ‘Why don’t you do that? Go scope out what he makes and say you can make it?’

‘Because he makes low-carb nonsense. I don’t want to make those things!’ She shook her head. ‘Besides, we’re supposed to be making a new start and getting on as neighbours now. I’m sure he’s not spying on me. Why would he?’

‘That’s true. It’s not like he’s suddenly going to get into making cakes,’ said Marty. ‘Even if he did, no one does a frosting rose quite like you do.’ He took out his phone. ‘Speaking of which, I should take some photos of this latest batch. I like how you’ve got the edges of the flowers in a different colour to the middle.’

Elodie nodded. She had been pleased with how that had come out, too. It had taken a bit of experimentation with coating the icing bag with one colour and then adding the main colour. This was probably the best ratio she was going to come up with.

‘I wish Saffron would hurry up and confirm her order for the food, though,’ she said, as she washed her hands. ‘I really need to get on with sourcing stuff.’

Back at her workbench, she got out the latest cake. A dragon. The request had been really specific. She got the cakes out of the fridge. She didn’t have a mould for a dragon, so she’d had to construct it out of several cakes. Getting out her notes, she started to cut the cakes up and stick them together with buttercream to make the shape that she needed.

She was deep in concentration when Marty gave a strange squeak. She ignored him. It was probably photos of Chris Evans standing in a doorframe again.

A few seconds later, Marty appeared in the workroom. ‘Erm … Elodie? I think you need to see this.’

‘Marty, I’m busy.’

‘No really. Here.’

The screen was thrust in front of her. It was Saffron’s TikTok. She watched in horror as Saffron and Jamie laughed about their charming cockup that meant that both Elodie and someone else were bidding for the catering contract for the wedding. From what they’d said, the other person had to be Mal. Elodie put her palette knife down, very carefully. ‘She … asked us both to quote?’

‘By mistake,’ said Marty, putting his phone back in his pocket. ‘But yes. I mean, “low-carb lunches” … it’s got to be Man Buns, right?’

Not content with taking her café, he was now threatening her big break too? It was like he was sent as a curse. ‘What is wrong with that guy? Why won’t he just leave me alone?’

‘To be fair—’

‘What have I ever done to him? He seems determined to ruin me.’ She looked down at the dragon cake that was taking shape on her cake board. Her concentration was shot to bits. The edges of her world were tinged red with rage. She had been here for years, slowly building up her reputation. He had just waltzed in and snatched everything away. It was so unfair.

‘You can’t have low-carb food at a wedding,’ she said. ‘It’s supposed to be a celebration.’

Marty opened his mouth to argue, then shut it again.

‘This is all so wrong,’ Elodie continued.

‘But it is sort of up to Saffron what she wants to have for her big day …’ Marty said, quietly.

‘Exactly. And she wanted me to do the catering.’ Elodie turned away from the cake and washed her hands. She pulled out her own phone.

‘Wait, Elodie. What are you doing?’

‘I’m going to call Saffron.’

‘No no no.’ Marty leapt across and snatched the phone out of her hand. ‘No.’

‘Marty.’

‘What are you going to say?’

‘I’m going to ask her if she’s decided yet. If she needs any more information from me.’

‘You don’t think that might come across as needy or pushy? You have to give her time to make up her own mind.’

Elodie stared at him. He was right, dammit. She didn’t want Saffron to think that Elodie was small and needy and Mal was a better prospect. She muttered a swear word. ‘You’re right.’ She sat down on a stool. ‘Ugh. I hate this.’

Marty patted her shoulder. ‘All we can do is wait and hope for the best.’

A customer came in and Marty disappeared back into the main shop floor. Elodie stared dejectedly at the cake she was supposed to be working on. She should sort out the colours for the icing and get on with this dragon. The wings needed to be made too. She got the colouring pastes out, consulted her notes again and started work. She kept losing her place.

Nope. No use. She couldn’t focus.

Her thoughts kept circling back to how close she had come to having a big order, for someone famous enough to make a real difference to her tiny business. So close, she could almost taste it. If only Mal hadn’t been bidding too. Mal seemed to have appeared on the earth just to get in the way of her dreams. Even though he seemed not to realise it.

She stood up and removed her apron. She wasn’t going to get any more work done if she didn’t take some action on this. Carefully, she put everything away, ready for when she came back to it. Then she marched out to find Mal. She had no idea what she was going to say to him when she found him, but she’d work that out when she got there.