The Little Teashop of Broken Hearts - Jennifer Joyce

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I’m not interested in Owen and he isn’t interested in me. It’s a bit of fun, that’s all. But no, Owen is nothing like Graham at all. Graham couldn’t even change a light bulb, never mind build whole houses. He was a bit useless, really.’

      I can’t help thinking of Joel. He wasn’t very good at DIY either, despite being a property developer, but he had many other talents. Fidelity not being one of them, it painfully transpired.

      ‘Oh, look.’ I forget about Joel as I hear laughter from the teashop. Dad is chuckling while Birdie has thrown her head back for a full-on chortle. ‘I really do think they like each other.’

      I’m so pleased. Not only has Dad found a woman who just may help him finally get over Mum, but it’s also all down to me. Well, me and my apple crumble. I always knew cake was special but I didn’t know it had Cupid-like powers.

      ‘Oh my God, that’s it!’ My sudden outburst is so loud it attracts the attention of Dad, Birdie and Victoria. I tug Mags deeper into the kitchen, out of view of our new audience, and lower my voice. ‘I’ve got it! The hook that might bring people to the teashop.’

      ‘What is it?’ Hearing the commotion, Victoria has rushed into the kitchen to find out what’s going on.

      ‘Love,’ I announce, a huge grin spreading across my face. ‘Or rather dating.’

      I think it’s a marvellous idea and I’m already picturing my little teashop full to bursting point with loved-up couples (who will then, of course, frequent my teashop now it’s on their radar) but Mags and Victoria don’t look convinced. In fact, they look quite bewildered.

      ‘What on earth are you talking about?’ Mags asks, which seems to be the question on Victoria’s mind too judging by the frown on her face.

      ‘I’m talking about matching people up with their favourite cakes,’ I say, almost giddy with the prospect. ‘Like Dad and Birdie and the apple crumble that brought them together. We’ll set up a dating service in the teashop.’ I’m pacing the kitchen now, my hands flying about the place as I try to explain my vision. ‘There’ll be five men and five women who all love a certain dessert and they’ll chat to each other in turn while they enjoy their chosen dessert. It’ll be like speed dating … with cake!’

      ‘Won’t people be a bit bloated after five lots of cake?’ Victoria asks as we sit down to discuss my idea further now the teashop is empty. Dad and Birdie have finished their apple crumbles and gone their separate ways and although Victoria should be getting back to Nathan and the boys for band rehearsals, she’s decided to stick around for a few more minutes to iron out a few details. ‘Being stuffed to the brim with cake hardly makes you feel sexy, does it?’

      ‘We’ll make mini desserts,’ I suggest. ‘Like we did for the party.’

      Mags, who has brought a notepad and pen from the office, jots this down.

      ‘But won’t it be a bit …’ Victoria scrunches up her face, reluctant to say the next words ‘… boring? Having the same dessert five times in one night, even if it is on a small scale?’

      ‘She has a point.’ Mags adds the word BORING with an oversized question mark to her notes.

      ‘I suppose.’ My idea had seemed brilliant only a few moments ago but now I’m not so sure.

      ‘I think you have something,’ Mags says quickly. ‘But it needs a bit of a tinker to make it work. Let’s have a think about it over the weekend and see what we can come up with.’

      ‘In the meantime, I’d better get going,’ Victoria says. ‘The others will be wondering where I am.’

      ‘Good luck for tomorrow.’ I stand up, think about giving Victoria a hug, and quickly change my mind, collecting our empty cups together instead.

      ‘Terry would be mad not to sign you on the spot,’ Mags adds. ‘But I’ll cross my fingers and toes for you, just in case.’

      I take the cups into the kitchen once Victoria has gone, my mind wandering back to my dating idea. I can feel butterflies fluttering up a storm in my tummy and I know this is something we should pursue. If done right, it’ll bring lots of new potential customers into the teashop who will try our cakes and hopefully return for more. And if they happen to find love among the treats, that will be an amazing bonus.

      My mind is still on cake and dating when I’ve finished the washing up and I’m mulling ideas over when Nicky arrives during her lunch break.

      ‘I need cake – and fast.’ She plonks herself down at one of the tables and folds her arms across her chest. ‘He hasn’t called.’

      ‘Who hasn’t called?’ I honestly can’t keep up with Nicky and her men. She’s been on three dates alone this week, each one with someone new.

      ‘Tom.’ She sighs, long and heavy. ‘Victoria gave me his number, so I texted him last night. Nothing flirty or anything. Just a hey, how are you kind of thing. We texted back and forth all night and things got a bit … heated.’ I try not to gag at the thought of Nicky and Victoria’s baby-faced pal sexting. ‘I called earlier but it went straight to voicemail. I left a super-cute, super-breezy message but he hasn’t got back to me.’ The corners of her mouth turn down and I swear her bottom lip pokes out ever so slightly.

      ‘I think he’s just really busy today.’ I explain about the band and their upcoming meeting with Terry Sergeant. Nicky’s eyes are wide by the time I’ve finished.

      ‘So he’s going to be famous?’ Nicky stands up so quickly, she nearly sends her chair flying backwards. ‘Forget the cake. If I’m going to be a celeb’s girlfriend, I need to keep it trim.’ She flies out of the teashop – and away from the delicious temptation – almost colliding with The Builders. Mags, who has been out the back, makes a suspiciously sudden appearance.

      ‘What’s your favourite cake?’ I ask Owen as he observes the goodies in the fridge.

      ‘From here? Your cherry cola muffins.’ He snaps his head up. ‘Why? Do you have any today?’

      ‘I’m afraid not,’ I say, deflated with disappointment. I’d been hoping he’d say raspberry cream cheese brownies – Mags’s favourite – and strengthen my idea of matching up potential pairings by their favourite desserts. ‘We have raspberry and white chocolate muffins if you fancy one of those instead?’

      Owen shrugs. ‘Why not? I like to mix it up every now and then anyway. Variety is the spice of life and all that.’

      I’m placing Owen’s muffin on a plate when his words hit me fully, sending the butterflies in my tummy into a flurry.

       Variety is the spice of life.

       Variety.

      Of course! We don’t have to offer specific cakes for people to bond over, just cake. A variety of cakes. Who wouldn’t want to date and eat cake? Five different cakes, each bite-sized treat as delicious as the next. It wouldn’t be boring and nobody would leave feeling bloated.

      It was perfect!

      Dad’s invited me round for tea so, after closing the teashop, I climb into my little mint green Fiat 500 and pop on my favourite summery playlist for the drive. I adore this car. Before setting up Sweet Street, a car was the only splurge I allowed myself from the money Gran left me, and I knew as soon as I saw the adorable, dinky car that it was the one for me. Penny went with me to choose it and she said it was tiny and cute, just like me. If I’d known back then that the extra money would have come in handy for the business I’d set up in a few months’ time, I may have stuck with my ancient, clapped-out car that liked to break down at the most ill-timed moments. It was a nightmare of a car but, as turning up for work late so often had cost me my job at the double glazing

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