Page 28 of The Cake Fairies
“And it’ll be our last if we don’t get our skates on, and back to Nigel,” Polly snapped.
“Listen,” said Alex, turning to Annabelle. “I hate to make you play gooseberry, er, Anne, Annie…?” She smiled through gritted teeth at his latest dent to her ego. “But I’ve got a question for your cousin here.”
“It’sAnnabelle,actually.”
“Can I see you again – sooner rather than later?” he said to Polly. “Er, assuming Nigel isn’t your significant other?”
Annabelle let his uncouth behaviour go, realisation further dawning upon her that this guy must be part of a much bigger plan. But Polly was scraping back her chair for the second time in as many days. “So, you broke my fall and I’m grateful,” she said. “But that’s your lot. And like she said, she’s Annabelle… not Annie. She was an orphan, didn’t you know? I’m sure I’m the only one of those in this place,” she said, exiting stage left.
“Lort!”
Alex almost choked on his drink, and Annabelle didn’t need to ask for a translation.
“She’s just confused, a little tired. We’ve done a lot of traveling these past few days… Nigel’s our driver, by the way,” Annabelle explained.
Alex sat motionless, looking out to some undeterminable point on the horizon, as if he were re-orienting his ship.
“Are her parents really… de… dead?”
Annabelle nodded sadly.
“Look, I know it sounds crazy, and we’ve only known you five minutes – actually, more like two days – but I’d like to take you up on your gatecrash-style invite… on behalf of my cousin, if it still stands?”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” He grinned. “It’s not been easy making friends here. Everyone’s got their own circles, you know? How about tomorrow?” Ooh, a bit soon. “I’ve got another day off from the café as it happens, a real day off this time.”
“Tomorrow will be perfect,” Annabelle lied. “I don’t suppose you have a pen and paper? I’ll give you the address.”
Alex pulled out his mobile phone.
“Of course,” she let out an Amber Magnolia titter. “Even better.”
She relayed her details, which she’d fortunately committed to memory, and he gave her a kiss – on both cheeks – which was unexpected and embarrassing, since she’d only ever known a smooch of the lip variety, and pretty far out, although she wasn’t supposed to have the hots for him. They’d clumsily bumped heads, much to the snickering delight of the Hooray Henrietta teens, who’d enjoyed her uncultured and ill-educated lack of decorum, amidst their table of posh seed-scattered salads.
***
Annabelle was still locked in thought as they made their way back to Kensington Mews. Nigel had been unamused at their delay. They’d forgotten to ask for help with their plethora of bags, making him ‘feel guilty for leaving two women to fend for themselves’ – geez, you really couldn’t win with the guy. And now she felt an extra serving of guilt on top as Polly had had to face his initial wrath alone, while she’d selfishly lapped up second helpings of Alex’s stargazy eyes.
And then there was the not-so-insignificant fact that she’d sort of invited him over. She was furious with herself already, but damn it. She wasmainlydoing this for Polly’s benefit.
All right. She was also (kind of, in a roundabout way) hoping Alex’s fascination with Polly would rapidly wear thin. Not that she really wanted to be second best; not that Polly would even admit to being as powerless as the tide beneath the orb of a full moon, but, like Annabelle said, she couldn’t stop thinking that Alex was somehow meant to be in the picture.
She banished these worries to the recesses of her mind, consumed instead by a new high. Everything was going to be all right. Somehow, she just knew it.
But euphoria was short lived. Annabelle’s furtive grin soon wiped itself from her face. She’d yet to actually break the news to Polly that Alex had their address and everything and would be arriving in the morning to help with tomorrow’s baking. Not that Annabelle knew for certain that cake construction was on Amber Magnolia’s agenda, but cookery shows had been digested, thoroughly modern ingredients purchased. What more could there be to learn?
She let the scarce passers-by blur into nothingness as they sped along the dual carriageway. The city was remarkably free of traffic, unlike their earlier jaunt to the shops. Just a token jogger or dog-walker to break up the monotony of bus stops advertising expensive-looking cologne, Netflix series, and washing powder – because even in 2019, some things never changed. And then there was a girl in her very own world, hand in front of her face and cupped around her personal universe – like so many others they had seen in their first twenty-four hours in the new millennium.
There one second, gone the next.
“Bloody hell!” bellowed Nigel, momentarily losing control of the limo as he processed the same snapshot Annabelle was wondering if she’d just imagined. His reaction made her heart hammer hard as the facts rapidly stacked up. “I thought I’d seen it all in this job!”
So, the teen with the jet-black bob really had walked straight into the hole in the pavement, and for the briefest of moments, she’d unwittingly offered Annabelle fresh perspective on the true meaning of a catastrophe.
“Pull over, quick!” screamed Polly. She’d been sitting opposite Annabelle. “I doubt anyone else has seen her fall in, we’re probably her only hope. Oh. My. God. I just can’t believe it. What if she’s dead?”
Annabelle was overcome with nausea and took to chewing her rapidly shrinking nails. Polly looked like she’d seen a ghost, her nut-brown eyes unable to tear themselves away from the spot.
Nigel swung the wheel hard left, skipping a lane of traffic, somehow inserting their six point seven metres of limo in-between a convoy of conveniently-spaced Vespas and a succession of Smart cars; braking with a disconcerting thump of the tyres onto the pavement. No mean feat and they felt every bump, instinctively ducking for cover.
