Page 90 of The Cake Fairies

Epilogue

The bakery door tinkled. A tall and surreally strawberry-blonde-haired man practically fell inside the shop, trundling a state-of-the-art looking suitcase on wheels behind him, as if he’d just stepped off a plane.

Or a train.

The tray bearing Kitty Withers’ pre-ordered – and shoot… pre-paid for as well – Devil’s food cake for the afternoon’s WI talk on vacuum cleaner maintenance, fell to the floor. At which point, so did all of Annabelle’s last vestiges of nostalgia for 2019, or 2020; where the capital’s version of a WI event included women posing in the buff (for charity, of course), pole dancing (for fitness, obviously), and science lectures.

If Annabelle Williams, and her assistant Ivy, who had deposited said cake, weren’t mistaken, Alex’s slightly better-looking older brother said:

“Hello, my name is Anders, and I’m a recent arrival in Middle Ham where I’m going to be residing for a while as I undertake my doctorate research in European Iron Age history. Your county’s relics uncovered on the local peat moors are said to be among the most impressive in the world. But all of this digging is going to be hungry work: I don’t suppose you sell Danish pastries here by any chance?”