Chapter 15
Mal leaned on the counter and watched as the women in the group conferred. Priya had warned him that her local support group of parents with children on the ketogenic diet would be coming there for their monthly meeting. Today they were all mums. So far, it had been fascinating. They had ordered at least one of everything they had on the counter. They seemed to be making notes. Several of them had photographed the nutritional information. The odd phrase rose up from the general chatter. It seemed they liked the sweet snacks more than the savoury. That was useful to know. He guessed that none of the women were on keto diets themselves, despite being experts at carb counting.
When Priya looked up, he caught her eye. She smiled at him. Gradually some of the others turned to look at him too.
‘Er … hi, ladies,’ he said. ‘Would you mind if I ask you a question? It’s about birthday cakes.’
‘Always happy to talk about cakes,’ someone said.
He picked up his notepad. ‘Well, for birthdays, I usually make a cheesecake using sugar-free jelly and double cream instead of water. But I had a query about a full-sized birthday cake. Now, I think I’d struggle to make anything too big that doesn’t sag in the middle, but I can do muffins and cupcakes. If you were having a party, how would you feel about cupcake stacks?’
After a few minutes of discussion, the consensus seemed to be that they thought it was a good idea.
‘It doesn’t all have to be keto, though,’ one of the mums said. ‘Only one or two. If it’s cupcakes. So long as you can tell the keto ones apart without them looking too different.’
‘That’s true,’ said Priya. ‘You could do the special birthday one as keto and put a candle in it or something, then the rest could be regular cakes. That would make it a lot easier, I should think.’
Oh. Mal returned to the counter and scribbled that down. She was right. It would be cheaper. His gaze drifted across to the cake shop. Maybe he could subcontract the cake making to Elodie. Could they do the same for the rest of the snacks? He could make the savoury ones himself, but the sweet things … He thought about her working quickly, making tiny icing sculptures with a deft flick on her hand. She would be so much better at it than he would. Besides, it would be nice to have a reason to work with her.
The ladies in the group finished their coffees and the meeting started to break up so that they could go and do their school pick-up runs.
‘Please come again,’ Mal said.
‘Oh, I will,’ said one of the ladies. ‘We want you to stay open. Priya’s been telling us how much Dilan likes coming here. I think it’s lovely that the kids have somewhere where the food caters for them specifically.’ She paused. ‘Can I have a pack of the frozen cutlets and a pack of your brownies, please? I think my daughter would like those.’
Priya was the last to leave.
‘Thanks for telling the group about the shop,’ Mal said. ‘I think they’ve bought up most of my stock today.’
‘I love that you’re doing this.’ She put a hand on top of his wrist. ‘Thank you. You do so much for us.’
He looked away, embarrassed. ‘It’s my pleasure.’ He would still never make up for what he did to his brother, but this was a start.
It was late by the time Elodie was free to go and talk to Mal. Whichever way she looked at it, it seemed that he was wanting to learn how to make cakes. The only explanation that made sense was that he was going to diversify. Which was so unfair. She was the one who was good at making cakes. That was her lane. Not his. She locked up the shop and marched across the arcade to bang on the door.
Archie let her in.
‘Is Mal in?’ She strode past him.
The radio was on in the back room. Mal and Liz were efficiently packing the protein and salads. The young man slid back into his seat, with an apologetic glance at Mal.
‘Elodie. Hi. I was—’
‘I need to talk to you.’ She pointed a finger at him.
Mal blinked. ‘Swap stations with me, Archie. Just for a minute,’ he said. He led her into the café space. ‘Elodie, what’s wrong?’
She put her hands on her hips. ‘Are you trying to branch out into making cakes? That’s my line. We agreed that we weren’t going to encroach on each other’s space.’
His eyebrows knitted together. ‘I have no idea what … oh, wait. Is this because I asked you to show me how to decorate cakes?’
‘And you quizzed Marty about my cake designs.’
His brow cleared. ‘Oh. Oh, I see how you could have misconstrued that. Sorry.’ He raised his hands in front of him, palms out. ‘No. Don’t worry. I’m not coming after your cake crown. I had a client ask about a birthday party cake for her keto kid. I was thinking I could make cupcakes that were keto and come up with some keto-friendly icing. Your cakes are safe, I promise you.’
She narrowed her eyes at him, not sure whether to believe him.
He gave a small sigh. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he said. ‘I was going to talk to you about it, actually.’
Still not sure of him, she folded her arms. A small part of her was still angry. Even if another part of her felt a bit silly for jumping to conclusions.
‘I was thinking,’ Mal continued, ‘that if we teamed up, we could do more of these sorts of things. Like cupcake stacks where you make most of the cakes and I make a few keto ones for the people who need that. We could make them look only subtly different. Then we could charge a premium because it’s hard to come by cakes that are both keto- and carb-friendly.’
She didn’t say anything for a minute while she thought through what he’d just said. ‘Sounds like I’d be doing most of the work.’
‘I’d subcontract you to do the cakes, yes. At a standard rate.’
Which didn’t sound too bad …’ So, basically, what we’re doing for Saffron, but for kids’ birthday parties?’
‘Pretty much, yes.’ He put one hand on the table and leaned on it. It made his muscles bulge in a very distracting way. ‘That’s why I was asking Marty about the cakes. I’m not trying to start any competition with you.’
‘I see.’ Now she was definitely starting to feel silly. She hated feeling silly. ‘I think we both have quite a lot on at the moment, so perhaps we can think about this after the wedding.’
‘Oh, absolutely,’ he said. ‘Definitely. You’re right. We have a lot on right now.’
She slowly uncrossed her arms.
‘Was there anything else you wanted to talk to me about …?’
Elodie frowned and tried to work out whether he was laughing at her. ‘Er … yes. We needed to arrange a day for me to show you how to do piping.’ It was the best she could come up with at short notice.
‘Oh. Let me see …’ He pulled out his phone.
She did the same and found her calendar. ‘What do you want to learn, exactly?’
‘The basics, I think. I want to be able to decorate a cupcake to an acceptable standard. Maybe make a picture in dots of something, in case I get asked for themed things.’
‘Just buttercream? No royal icing or moulding or anything?’
He gave it more thought than she expected. ‘I think, just buttercream. I can’t work out how to make something the right consistency for royal icing yet. Coloured buttercream, in flavours that go with coconut, might have to be the limit for now.’ He chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully and added, ‘How long do you think it’ll take?’
‘Depends how fast you learn,’ she said. ‘If you’re bringing your own icing, a couple of hours, I should think.’
‘Brilliant. When’s good for you?’
‘It’ll have to be after this wedding. I’m booked up with orders until then.’
He made a disappointed face.
‘I don’t have time—’
‘I get it. I get it,’ he said, wearily. ‘After the wedding is fine.’
She took a deep breath and nodded, trying to keep calm and collected. Even to her own ears, she was starting to sound highly strung.
‘Okay. Can I just check – how much are your usual classes?’ he asked.
She stopped breathing for a second. She had assumed that he was asking her for a favour. ‘Pardon?’
‘For your classes. How much do you usually charge?’
She must have hesitated too long, because he said, ‘Don’t you teach people how to decorate cakes?’
‘Not … as such. No.’
‘You’ve missed a trick there,’ he said. ‘You should. Obviously, a lot of it is down to your skill, but I’m sure you could teach people how to make cakes that look almost as good as yours do.’
‘Yes, well, I’d need space for that, wouldn’t I?’ she said. ‘I don’t have the premises suitable to do classes in. Since I didn’t get the lease on this place.’ She gave him a pointed stare.
He looked suitably chastised. ‘That’s true.’
She picked a number out of the air and told him. From the way he didn’t bat an eyelid, she knew she’d undersold herself. Damn. Still, it was her first time teaching someone. Perhaps it was better to start out small.