‘That’s nine dollars and ninety-five cents,’ said Sophie, handing over two large espressos, a cinnamon bagel and a very generous slice of Maisie’s strawberry cheesecake, which was the last one. They’d already sold out of the cinnamon-and-caramel cheesecake within an hour of opening this morning, but Maisie was on her way, as promised, with fresh supplies.
‘Thanks. I love your accent. Where are you from? London?’
‘Yes.’
‘I love London. The royal family. Buckingham Palace. Harry Potter. Those red buses. Black cabs. It’s all so cute. We were there last fall. Hey Mollie, this girl’s from London.’ Sophie smiled. In the last two hours, she’d had much the same conversation, about ten times.
Mollie looked up from where she was draping a jacket over the back of a chair and came over. ‘We loved London. What are you doing over here?’
Sophie explained about her job swap to the friendly couple and spent another few minutes as they told her they lived around the corner, were renovating an apartment and had been out for a bike ride. It wasn’t just Mollie and Jim that stopped to chat. As the morning passed, Sophie found the mixed Saturday-morning crowd of happening and hip Brooklynites fascinating. This place was so different to London. The few times she’d worked in Katie’s Kanesnegle, the café her friend owned, she’d enjoyed serving busy office workers and tourists, but here there was a surprising sense of community. After a week in Manhattan, Brooklyn was a welcome antidote to the city buzz and that sense of manic activity, where people on the street marched with purpose, seeming to need to be somewhere yesterday. On the subway, like on the tube, everyone avoided catching anyone’s eyes.
There were young families; smart, slender and fit-looking parents who opted for super-skinny lattes and ordered Bella’s special Stealthy Healthy cupcakes for their very well-behaved children who invariably came complete with mini iPad. There were also trendy young couples, some in Lycra leggings and fleece tops, clearly rewarding themselves after their morning run with Bella’s daily Cappuccino and Cookie combo special. And dotted between them, poring over newspapers or laptops, devouring bagels and black coffee, were other couples, in their early and mid thirties, uniform in jeans, white sneakers and coloured T-shirts, with the sort of logos and branding that put them in the upper price bracket.
It was interesting to see the way in which their preferred seating choices immediately zoned the bakery into distinct areas. The sporty couples tended to sit in neat corners taking up the minimum space at the bistro tables at the front of the bakery, while the families spread themselves out around the tables, filling the space around them with coats, bags, buggies and toys. The weekend execs, as Sophie had labelled them, had colonised the sofas but politely shifted up to let others of their tribe share the area.
Judging by the number of people that greeted Bella by name whenever she popped out of the kitchen, a lot of the customers were regulars. There was a homely, friendly feel to the bakery as if everyone’s visit was integral to their weekend, part of their weekly routine. No one seemed hurried or harried and they were happy to chat to each other as they waited in line.
Bella’s Saturday girls, high-school students Beth and Gina, expertly weaved around the tables collecting cups and plates with the youthful grace of dancers, collecting up tips and depositing them in the glass jar behind the till. Both had been a great help in the first hour as Sophie found her feet.
Towards eleven the vibe changed as the families drifted away, the exercise bunnies left and the hungover brunch crew descended, craving sugar hits and large coffees.
Sophie took a break for lunch with Bella in the kitchen.
‘How’s it going?’
‘Good. I had no idea there was such a community feel.’
‘There is round here. A village vibe, if you like.’
Sophie laughed. ‘That’s the New York version of village, I think.’
Bella smiled back. ‘Not an English ye olde village?’
‘Definitely not, but there’s something. Everyone seems so – I don’t know – positive. Upbeat. Cheerful.’
‘I think people respond to the environment. I deliberately tried to create that positive feel.’
Sophie looked up at the message above the counter, which changed daily. Today it read: Every morning you wake up with two options, to continue to sleep with your dreams or to wake up and chase them. The choice is yours.
Following her gaze, Bella beamed. ‘Not just that, but take the girls, Gina and Beth. Took me weeks to find the right people to work here. I want can-do, happy people. If you weren’t like you are, even though I was desperate for help, I wouldn’t have asked you. And as a result I have a real core of regulars from the neighbourhood. During the week, it’s the commuters who grab a coffee and my homemade breakfast bars en route to work. Then there are the oldies who come in after their morning hike. Lunchtimes are busy with local workers grabbing bagels. And early afternoon is bedlam. All the yummy mummies come in with their kids for my Stealthy Healthy cakes.’
‘I was wondering about those. What’s in them?’
‘Fruit and vegetables. Courgette and lemon, carrot and orange, pumpkin and apple. The kids have no idea what’s in them but it makes the mums feel a lot better about giving them a post-school treat.’
‘What a brilliant idea. I might steal that for the magazine. Would be a great feature.’
‘Feel free. I’ll show you how to make them.’
In the last half hour, the numbers of customers had slowed to a trickle and the glass shelves were pleasingly almost bare. The door opened despite the Closed sign and Sophie was about to call, ‘We’re closing,’ when she realised it was Wes.
‘Hey Sophie. All done yet?’
‘Just about.’ She indicated the last table where three people were chatting over the dregs of their coffee.
All of the other tables had been wiped clean, their chairs pushed neatly underneath, most of the washing-up had been done and only now could Sophie appreciate that her feet were starting to complain.
‘I came by to see if y’all needed any more help. And to bring some more cinnamon and nutmeg over. Bella said she was running low.’
He deposited two large paper bags on the counter top, a puff of spices pumping out of the top, perfuming the air.
‘Mm, they smell gorgeous. Actually, I need to get some recipe ingredients for next week. Do you do ginger?’
‘Do we do ginger? Girl, of course we do. You should come on by.’
‘I will. I’m sorry I haven’t already. And I never thanked you properly for the Rosemary. I was a bit spaced out that night.’
‘No worries.’
‘And I’d really like to buy some herb plants for the deck.’
‘I can sort you out there, what sort of things would you like?’
‘Basil.’
He laughed and corrected her pronunciation, ‘You mean baazel. We’ve got basil. Lemon basil. Sweet basil. Thai basil. Cinnamon basil. Genovese basil.’
‘Wow. That’s a lot of b-b …’ nope, she couldn’t bring herself to say it the American way, ‘basil.’
Wes winked at her. ‘You say tomato, I say tomato.’
‘I’d love some Thai basil.’
‘You cook?’
Sophie smiled. ‘I haven’t been cooking for myself recently, but I think I’m about to change that.’
‘Hey, Wes.’ Bella bustled out of the kitchen as the last customers wandered out with cheery waves. She shot across and bolted the door behind them. ‘We’re about all done, thanks to Sophie. She’s been amazing.’
Sophie untied her gingham apron and wilted against the counter.
‘How about I take you for a drink, to say thank you, Sophie. I so need a bucket of wine and then Chinese take-away, my treat. If you’re up for it. You too Wes, if you fancy it?’
‘That’s very kind but I’m sure you two ladies have plenty to talk about. I’ll be heading off. See you tomorrow.’
‘You could come just for a drink,’ said Bella.
Wes shrugged and ambled to the door with a wave. Sophie noticed a wistful expression in Bella’s eyes as she watched him lope down the street.
‘Right, drink?’
‘Sounds perfect,’ said Sophie. ‘As long as I get to sit down. I’m used to standing cooking all day at work but I hadn’t counted on doing that when I put these on this morning.’ She looked down at her beloved Converse.
‘I have to shower and change first. I’ll knock for you in twenty.’
‘Done,’ said Sophie, figuring she could be ready in twenty minutes, liking the fact Bella was the sort of person who didn’t waste any time dithering.
True to her word, Bella knocked exactly twenty minutes later, looking fresh and bright in skinny jeans and a red-and-white Breton-striped T-shirt. Sophie had been so hot and sticky, she’d opted for her favourite dress. A Joules T-shirt dress, with a floral pattern overlaying pale-blue intermittent stripes. She liked the Englishness of it. Made her feel like herself again.
‘I can’t tell you how grateful I am,’ said Bella, linking her arm through Sophie’s and steering her along the street which bustled with people. The evening was balmy and there was a holiday-like atmosphere. They arrived at a door with blacked-out windows on one side and Bella led the way into what felt as if it had once been a front room. Wooden benches and tables in rows were crammed in but most of them were empty.
‘This place is a well-kept secret.’
‘I can see that,’ said Sophie as her words echoed in the empty space.
‘Come on.’ With a nod at the silent barman who gave her a barely-there greeting, Bella ordered a bottle of wine and, clutching two glasses, led the way up a small, dimly lit, narrow staircase.
The door at the head of the stairs opened out onto a broad rooftop and it was like stepping out of a long, dark tunnel. The rooftop buzzed with noise and chatter, and every table was full of bearded hipsters, young couples and groups of girls in strappy tops and big sunglasses.
‘I wasn’t expecting this,’ said Sophie, looking around.
‘Great vibe, isn’t it?’ said Bella proudly. ‘We tend to keep quiet about it. It’s like the neighbourhood bar.’ She waved to a couple on a table on the other side of the terrace, as she set the glasses onto the last free table and poured two very generous portions.
‘Cheers. And thank you.’
‘No, thank you,’ said Sophie. ‘I enjoyed myself today.’
‘You shouldn’t have said that. Like I said, I will take advantage. Shout if my demands get too much.’
Together they took a long sip of wine.
The cold liquid hit the spot and for a minute Sophie felt things might just be alright.
‘Are you still going with Todd tomorrow?’ asked Bella, looking worried.
‘Something wrong?’
‘I’m just warning you not to get your hopes up too much. Saturdays are a big night out with the crowd he runs around with. They party hard. Trust-fund preppy types.’
‘Thanks, I’m not sure he thought ahead that much, I think he was being kind,’ she broke off, remembering the scene in the office, ‘and a bit miffed that someone had dissed his beloved Brooklyn. It was a bit of one-upmanship.’
‘That sounds more like Todd.’ Bella’s quick acceptance was followed by a considered breath and then she added, ‘Although don’t get me wrong. Todd is kind. He’s my cousin. I love him. He’s not had it easy … but don’t … don’t mistake it for anything else. He’s lovely, or rather can be lovely, but whatever you do, don’t make the mistake of falling in love with him. I’ve seen it too many times before. Girls are always falling for him, but he’s never interested.’
‘You don’t need to worry on my account.’ Sophie relaxed back into her chair. ‘I’ve been burned. Not going back for quite some time.’
‘Ah, I did wonder. You have that … sort of bruised-around-the-soul look about you. Every now and then you drift off.’
‘Damn, I thought I was doing a good job of hiding things.’
‘Was it a hideous break-up?’
‘Something like that.’ Sophie looked away towards the pink glow where the sun was starting to sink, carefully examining the silhouetted roof lines.
‘And you’re not ready to talk about it?’ observed Bella, candid as ever.
‘Sorry.’ Her eyes met Bella’s with quiet apology. ‘It’s …’
‘Don’t you worry, honey. I understand. Men, eh? Although with me, it’s more a case of unrequited love rather than the man done me wrong.’
‘Oh, that sounds … sad.’
‘Or darn frustrating. You know it’s right but … he’s so pig-headed. Can’t or won’t see it. I really need to move on. Find someone else. But it’s hard when you see them all the time and you keep wondering if maybe …’
‘Wes?’
Bella slammed her hand down on the wooden bench table. ‘Aw, shoot, is it that obvious?’
Sophie bit back a smile. ‘You kind of gave it away then, but I did wonder when you asked him earlier to join us.’
‘And he turned me down in a flat minute.’
‘Maybe he didn’t want to intrude.’
Bella gave her a stern look. ‘Really? I’m not buying that. If he was interested, I don’t think he’d worry about being an unwanted third. But then sometimes he seems … Why help in the bakery the minute I’m under pressure? He’s the knight in shining armour whenever I need him. He doesn’t have to do that. That’s the bit I don’t get. It’s like he blows hot and cold … Sometimes I think he might be interested and then I think I’m imagining it.’
‘Is he seeing anyone else?’
‘Not that I know of. But if he was I’d back right off. He’s never mentioned anyone. And I’m pretty sure he’s not gay.’
‘That’s a bonus,’ said Sophie, laughing at Bella’s suddenly gloomy expression.
‘You’re telling me. My high-school crush, unrequited throughout my teens, came out not long after we graduated. I was devastated.’
‘Oooh, not good.’
‘Tell me about it. But I don’t think Wes is gay. He’s mentioned girlfriends in the past. Not that that’s necessarily an indicator.’
‘You could always be direct, invite him out.’
Bella gave her a very sharp look. ‘You think I haven’t tried? Although, to be fair, I might have to be sort of circuitous about it. I haven’t actually come out and invited him on a date. Is that what you would do?’
With wide-eyed horror Sophie shook her head. ‘No way. I would never have the nerve, but you … you’ve got that New York directness.’
‘You think? I still couldn’t do it. Despite my big mouth, I’m not that out there. How would I bear it if he turned me down?’
‘But what if he said yes?’ said Sophie, her little ray of sunshine finally reasserting itself. It had been dormant for so long, it was like trying on a new pair of wings for size.
‘What if he said no?’
‘Er, hello, what happened to all the positive vibes you channel in the bakery? If you asked him, then you’d know. What’s the worst that can happen? What’s the best that could happen? You can survive the worst, you can move on. It might be a bit wobbly for a while … but think what if the best happened? Wes said yes. You went out on a date. Wouldn’t that be wonderful? You’ll never know if you don’t ask. At least you’d know one way or the other.’
‘Jeez, are you Pollyanna’s love child or something?’
‘Or something. I learned a long time ago. You can choose how you feel about things. You can choose to be sad. You can choose to ignore something …’ Sophie stopped short and then let out a tiny sigh, ‘… and I am very, very bad at following my own advice.’
‘You’ve not been choosing wisely?’
‘I’ve not been choosing at all,’ said Sophie stoutly. ‘But … there’s a guy at work.’
‘Oh, do tell.’
‘He’s asked me out to dinner.’
‘And?’
‘I don’t know. After … I’m not sure.’
‘Girl, you have to get back on the bike. And what have you got to lose?’
‘Er, hello?’
Bella gave her an impish grin. ‘I’m great at telling other people what to do.’
‘OK,’ said Sophie, suddenly sitting straighter, ‘I’ll go out with Paul, if you ask Wes out.’