The Little Brooklyn Bakery. Julie Caplin
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mad on a weekend. Welcome to Brooklyn.’
Sophie laughed and held up her hands to fend off the rush of words and the semaphore fingers, and to reassure the other woman. ‘It’s all fine. The apartment’s lovely. And a nice man called Wes helped me carry my cases in. Even left me a pot of herbs.’
‘Ah yes, the luscious Wes,’ Bella’s mouth dipped slightly before she continued, ‘he’s a sweetie. And always pushing those herbs.’ She nodded towards the aluminium pots of lavender on the tables. ‘Phew, it was a rush to get it finished in time, but when Todd, he’s my cousin, said the magazine needed a short-term rental, I couldn’t turn it down. Now what can I get you? Are you horribly jet-lagged? Is it the middle of the night for you?’
‘No, it’s early afternoon but I’m trying not to think about it. Coffee would be lovely, thank you.’ Normally she was a die-hard tea drinker but she knew New Yorkers were fond of their coffee and she suspected getting a decent cup of tea would be a challenge.
‘Gee, I love your English accent, it’s so cute.’
‘Thank you.’ Sophie had to beam back. It was impossible not to. Bella bounced around like an animated pixie caught in a whirlwind, her hazel eyes sharp with interest and intelligence.
‘How about something to eat? I made these lavender-and-vanilla cupcakes this morning, or there are carrot-and-cinnamon or orange-and-lemon.’
‘St Clements,’ said Sophie automatically.
‘St what?’
‘It’s cockney rhyming slang, orange-and-lemon flavours are sometimes called St Clements. It’s one of my favourites.’ For some reason she softly sang, ‘Oranges and lemons say the bells of St Clements.’
‘Aw, that is so cute. I’ve never heard that before.’ Her face took on a dreamy expression. ‘Cockneys. They’re in Mary Poppins. I could do a whole theme. Supacallafragilistic cakes.’
‘I love the window. Did you design that cake?’
Bella beamed and Sophie swore the dusting of freckles on her nose danced too. ‘Sure did. You like?’
‘Love! It’s amazing. Those black-and-white frills and the sugar-paste feathers are so clever.’
‘Awesome. Thanks. Now you must be hungry, so what would you like? First one’s on the house.’
‘Mmm, they look delicious.’ Sophie’s stomach grumbled obligingly as she examined the contents of the glass cabinet. One side was stacked with interesting-looking loaves, walnut-and-raisin, rye, five-grain, along with cheese-and-herb plaits and pumpkin-seed rolls, while the other had rows of beautifully decorated cupcakes, topped with pale cream frosting and sugar-paste flowers like Easter baskets, as well as several fruit-topped cheesecakes, a line of giant cookies, chunks of melted chocolate glistening, and a couple of full-sized cakes.
‘Do you make all of this?’
‘No, I don’t have time. The celebration and cupcakes are mine. And I live in hope that the wedding-cake side will take off. The cheesecakes come from the fabulous Maisie, who lives around the corner and bakes them while her kids are at school. She uses organic cream cheese from the family dairy upstate in Maine. They are to die for. And the breads and bagels are delivered in daily by a two-man team. Ed and Edie. Well, a man-and-woman team,’ she laughed, ‘their company is called Two Eds. And their slogan is When it comes to breads, two Eds are better.’
Sophie groaned, ‘Oh my word. I just got even hungrier. And if the cakes in the window are anything to go by … you should have plenty of customers.’
Bella pulled a face. ‘It gets a bit crazy in here at the weekends. And this week has been crazier than normal. I had two birthday parties, two hundred and fifty cupcakes to make and then ice and decorate with baseball players. I tell you, those little striped shirts are darn fiddly. But then, who doesn’t love a cupcake?’ She caught Sophie’s eye and winked.
Sophie grinned back, ‘I love the sugar-paste flowers you’ve done,’ she pointed to the cupcakes on display. ‘They look such fun. I’d love to learn how to do those.’ She gave them a considering look. ‘I’m a cookery writer, so I do a lot of baking. Testing recipes.’
‘Really? Todd didn’t say what you do. That’s so cool. Maybe we can swap some ideas some time.’
‘That would be wonderful. There’s something about baking that …’ Sophie sniffed the air again, feeling a tiny bit better about being here.
‘Oh, I think I’m going to love you. Yes, there’s something about baking … it’s almost magical. I love seeing the customers. Coming up with new ideas. Watching their eyes light up. Cakes make people smile.’
‘These look gorgeous.’ Sophie peered down at the tray of cakes in front of her. ‘They must take hours.’
‘They do … but they’re worth it and every single one is hand-crafted with love,’ Bella beamed. ‘Although it’s hard work, but it’s my business. Well mine, the bank’s and my granddad’s. He owns the lease on the building.
‘Now, is there anything you need? It’s the first time I’ve let the apartment. The renovations were only finished ten days ago.’
‘Seriously, Bella, it’s all gorgeous. Everything.’ Sophie bit her lip, she didn’t want to mention the lack of bedding, as it really wasn’t Bella’s responsibility, but she had a feeling she’d make it hers.
‘Well, let me know if there’s anything you need.’
‘No, it’s great and I love the deck.’
‘Just watch out for the mossies. They’re nasty.’
‘Mossies? As in mosquitoes?’
‘Oh yeah. If you’re planning on sitting out there, get some citronella candles or a fan. Now, coffee? A latte, drip coffee, iced coffee, cappuccino, macchiato, flat white, Americano, espresso?’
‘Cappuccino, please. The last drink I had was on the plane. I’m gasping.’
‘Garsping,’ teased Bella, elongating the vowel. ‘Gee, your accent is so cute.’
Sophie winced, glad she hadn’t asked for tea, and watched as the other girl set to work with quick efficiency, tapping out the old grounds, tamping down new, quickly twisting the silver filter into place while pouring milk into a jug with her other hand.
‘Take a seat and I’ll bring it over.’
Sophie sat down at the only free table, a bistro set in the window, and took a good look around at the bakery. She loved the eclectic decoration and how it had been divided into specific areas, each one with its own distinct style where the sofa, chairs, cushions and throws took their inspiration from the wallpaper design in the wall panel nearest them.
Towards the back there was a large archway and beyond it you could see the kitchen, the table still covered in flour and utensils as if the latest batch of goodies had just been finished.
With a happy sigh, Sophie sat back in her chair. She already loved this place and Bella had given her such a warm, friendly welcome, suddenly she didn’t feel quite so far from home. She pulled out a notebook and her guide book, there was so much she needed to do but her head felt a bit too buzzy and cotton-woolly to get a proper grasp on what she should think about first. Jet-lag was a bummer.
The underground map looked horribly confusing and she couldn’t figure out the names of any of the lines, there seemed to be so many different options. She glanced over at Bella, busy behind the counter, she’d ask her for some help. She could do this.
Nerves shimmered as she looked through the window at the busy street. She was really here. London was several hours ahead and in the safety of the café she felt that perhaps if she took one day at a time, she could get through the next six months.
It would be late afternoon in England.