Page 42 of The Cake Fairies
“It was an interesting experience!” said Annabelle, breaking a sudden awkward silence.
That was one way of putting it.
“We timed it well,” Annabelle continued, “met a very encouraging lady during the train’s delayed departure, and effortlessly built the layers together in one carriage waiting for the new ETD to be announced. The top looked spectacular. The scattering of white and yellow daisy-ish strawberry flowers absolutely made it.” Suddenly the floor became quite mesmerising to Polly as Alex turned the wattage up on his told-you-so grin. “Then we jumped – carefully – into the next carriage, and managed to find the perfect seat for the cake; in-between a guy engrossed in some sort of game on one of those iPad screens, and another one talking loudly into his phone.”
“We were nervous as hell,” Polly interrupted, forgetting her cold-shoulder stance already, “but somehow the Spanish flamenco dancer gave us the courage not to care how freakishly oddball our behaviour seemed, so we planted the cake and walked fast, at which point we realised we’d forgotten to deposit the ‘Share and Care’ sign, as well as the ingredients list – so we can only hope everyone was able to stomach gluten… and then of course there were no paper plates, knives or napkins… at which point iPad Man had taken ownership of what he assumed to be his exclusive side of the cake.”
Not sure whether to laugh or cry, she let Annabelle continue.
“It was beyond awful, Alex! He was such a pig. He dropped his gadget to the floor and went at it like a bulldozer. All that beauty wasted on him!” Annabelle stopped to insert a hair flick. “I mean, who runs their finger all over the cream topping, licks it off then grabs a giant handful of berries while they’re at it, stuffing them in their mouth? It couldn’t have been more obvious that this was a cake meant for everyone.” She stopped to shake her head pitifully and Alex covered his mouth in genuine horror. “This was so not what we’d intended. I’m not sure I can carry on if we come up against that kind of greed every time.”
“For once I’m speechless,” Alex gulped. “It probably is a good job I wasn’t with you.” Point score to Polly. “Swedish summer cake is to be savoured, not devoured.”
“The only hope, as we left the train before it chugged away, was the scene that’s now imprinted forever in my mind,” Polly, buoyed up with her victory continued. “Loud Talker Dude standing with hands on hips, making some announcement to all the other passengers, and people tentatively rising up and out of their seats. Did it turn into one massive food fling with Mr Greedy getting his just desserts splattered in his face? We’ll just have to wait and…”
“We’ll never know.”
Annabelle put Polly right, and Polly remembered to remember that the unfathomable phenomenon of the video tape was categorically not for general knowledge.
“Ladies, you have to let it go now. My Swedish summer cake will decide its own destiny,” Alex said. Polly declined the temptation to eye-roll over his claimed ownership of the confection. She had a gnawing feeling that there might be a reason for his constant need to prove himself. “In the meantime, I have just the ticket… well, four of them actually. Annabelle: you said Ivy might be joining us, too?”
Don’t say it, don’t you flipping dare say it…
“Ooh, the Eye!” Annabelle jumped up and down in excitement. “That’s so thoughtful of you, Alex. Yeah… by the way, Polly,” for some reason Annabelle couldn’t quite look her in her own eye. “I hope you don’t mind, but I took it upon myself to invite Alex and Ivy along tonight. I thought it’d be a nice surprise, after the stress earlier. They were such an important part of the day. We wouldn’t exactly have had a cake if it wasn’t for their support.”
This had to be some sort of joke, right? And then Polly remembered her affirmation surrounding a trip on theEyesore; that she’d partake if Annabelle and Ivy came along for the ride, so that it wasn’t remotely romantic. She’d actually invited all of them – in a roundabout kind of way. And to hell with those puns!
“Ivy said she’d meet us in the queue, if she managed to fob off her overbearing mum,” Annabelle deftly changed the subject.
“I really don’t think we should be encouraging a teenager to lie,” Polly protested, clutching at the rather limp straw that was just about her only get-out clause. “Like I said earlier, I’m tired. It’s been a long day. The only thing that’s calling me now is a bath and my bed.” And oddly enough, not the largest Ferris wheel she’d ever seen.
But it was too late. “As tempting as joining you in either location sounds, the evening is young… and so are you, Pretty Polly. In any case, these have to be used tonight.” He waved the terrifying tickets.
Alex took Polly’s left hand, electricity crackling through her fingers in a way it most certainly didn’t when Annabelle instinctively took her right.
“What about the cardboard boxes?” she cried.
“Somebody will pick them up and take them outside as bedding to help the homeless,” said Alex. Her heart might have melted then. Just a smidgen.
***
“I don’t know what’s going on tonight,” the London Eye official held out his palms as if they might care to reveal the answers. “But you’ve got a pod all to yourselves.”
A bedraggled-looking Ivy, who’d only recently tagged onto their group, was torn. “Have I got time to nip to the sweet kiosk back there, do you think?”
“Absolutely not,” Polly shouted. “There’s no way you two are pulling that stunt on me again.”
“Honestly, it’s totally genuine this time.” Ha, that exposed Annabelle and her pathetic matchmaking antics. “I’m all out of mints and my IBS is having a field day,” said Ivy. Polly didn’t dare ask what the acronym stood for; the living-in-the-country excuse wouldn’t wash for much longer. “Those cakes were scrummy, but I did eat rather a few… er, that would be all of them.”
In other words, she had stomach-ache and was conveniently on the hunt for a relaxant. Damn it, Polly could already see where this script was heading. She should’ve brought that blasted bottle of peppermint extract and rammed it down Ivy’s throat.
“Only if you’re quick,” said the hovering member of staff. “Like I said, this is most unusual. London’s a ghost town now, but there’s sure to be a crowd along soon. This ain’t right. Every one of these pods has been booked, just like every other night of the year.” He scratched at his stubble and retreated to do whatever London Eye staff did before scary pods on scary wheels were ready for scared-out-of-their-wits passengers. Okay, just the one tonight.
“And I’mgenuinelyinterested to dribble over the selection of treats,” said Annabelle, mumbling now as she fled from Polly’s side yet again. How utterly predictable.
“They’ll be back,” Alex failed to reassure her.
“Yeah, and very conveniently once we’ve done our sp… spin.”
