Page 26 of Cupcakes and Kisses in Micklewick Bay

Maggie had sent her friend a text on Tuesday evening, asking how the meeting had gone and, with everything else that had been happening, Jasmine had sent a brief, and hurried, reply, saying she’d fill everyone in on Friday evening.

She wasn’t sure how much they all knew, or if Lark had shared what had happened on Tuesday afternoon.

Though, judging by the occasional concerned glance her pals were sending her way, she suspected she’d said something.

Not that Jasmine minded, she knew it would have come from a caring place and not simply to share gossip.

They all looked out for one another, as they had since primary school.

And then there was Max to discuss, now they were all together. Of course, Maggie had never met him, but she’d heard them mention him on numerous occasions. Maybe she’d finally get to put the face to the name.

A warm smile lit up Florrie’s face. ‘I’m not going to spoil Jazz’s news, but while we’re waiting, all I’ll say is that it is amazing .

’ She’d already explained to the rest of the group about having to give Jasmine a lift and the reason for it before Jasmine had arrived, but she hadn’t said anything further, declaring it not being her news to share.

‘Yeah, it is; it went really well and I’m over the moon. And you should have seen our Florrie here. Anyone would think she was my manager the way she got stuck in promoting me and bigging me up to Lady Caro.’ Jasmine giggled, a ripple of excitement rushing through her at the reminder.

‘I wanted to make sure her ladyship was fully aware of the fabulous reputation you’ve built up with your cakes and how lucky she’d be to have you make them for the castle’s weddings.’ Florrie turned to the others. ‘I also made a point of stressing that Jazz doesn’t charge enough.’

‘Go, Florrie,’ said Maggie, ice cubes clinking as she raised her glass of lemonade. ‘We’ve all been telling you that for ages, Jazz.’

‘I know! I hope you’ve finally listened,’ said Stella, the others all agreeing.

‘Before I launch into telling you all about it, I’ll first apologise to you, Lark, for having to hear it all over again, and to you, Florrie, since you were there and already know the outcome.’

‘Happy to hear it again, flower.’ Lark beamed at her.

‘Same here,’ said Florrie.

‘Unfortunately, a lot of other, not-so-good stuff’s been going on as well, but since it’s completely unrelated to the Danskelfe Castle meeting, I’ll start with the positive news first and get to that later.

’ Jasmine went on to recount the details of their visit to the castle and her conversation with Lady Caro, the friends listening intently.

‘That’s fantastic, Jazz!’ Maggie said when she’d finished.

‘Sounds to me like it could be the answer to all your juggling problems,’ said Stella, the star-shaped diamond earrings she always wore glinting in the light.

‘That’s what I’m hoping.’ Along with calming her worries, Jasmine’s chats with Lark and Stella had also freed up some headspace, and, on top of being able to give Lady Caro’s brief further consideration, it had also set other ideas racing through her mind.

‘Which is why I could really do with running a few things past you all, get your opinion.’

‘Fire away,’ said Maggie.

Jasmine inhaled deeply and shared her potential plans for giving up at least one of her part-time jobs.

‘I reckon I’d still have time to take orders for celebration cakes from other customers, and if I up my prices a bit – not by too much, mind, I don’t want to put people off – it should boost my earnings.

Though I reckon I should be bringing my wedding cakes more in line with what Lady Caro’s going to charge.

There’s a lot of work involved, and doing the costings for my meeting with her has made me realise what I currently ask doesn’t really cover the amount of time they take. ’

‘It’s all sounding good so far, Jazz,’ said Stella.

‘Actually, that reminds me, I was going to ask about putting in a regular order for some of your tray bakes and cupcakes for us to sell in the tearoom at the bookshop. Would you be okay with that, Jazz?’ asked Florrie.

‘I’d be more than okay with that, flower. And, naturally, I’d give you mates’ rates.’

Florrie shook her head. ‘Ed and I have already discussed this in anticipation of you saying that, and we both agree that all deals are off unless we can pay the same as everyone else.’

‘But you?—’

Florrie held up her palm. ‘No buts, Jazz. It’s the going rate or nowt.’

‘Ooh, I love it when our little Florrie gets all assertive,’ said Maggie.

‘Yeah, it’s definitely a case of “don’t mess”,’ said Stella.

‘I’m thinking it’d probably be the cleaning job I’d give up, purely because of the number of Saturday shifts it involves; it’s a busy changeover day for the holiday cottages on Spick ‘n’ Sparkle’s books.

Though I wouldn’t drop your mum in it and leave her short-staffed, Stells.

I’ve been approached by a couple of the mums at school who’ve asked if I know if any shifts are going.

I reckon they’d be okay.’ Jasmine had been to their houses to collect her children on several occasions, and could vouch that their homes were immaculate, which would suit Alice Hutton’s exacting standards.

‘Mum would be chuffed to bits to hear your reason for leaving is because of your cake decorating business. And she most certainly wouldn’t want you to be fretting about finding your replacement.’

‘I’d still want to clean for Hilda, though, if your mum would let me.

I’d miss her too much if I stopped, plus it’s when I drop her shopping round, but regardless of that, she’s not keen on change.

Poor old soul’s still devastated about losing Enid.

’ Jasmine’s gaze fell to the table. ‘Come to think of it, so am I. Knocked the stuffing out of both of us.’

Hilda Jenkins and Enid Lambton had been lifelong best friends.

In their mid-eighties, the widows were Micklewick Bay born and bred.

Both prided themselves on being agile – or “as fit as a lop” as Hilda regularly said, using a Yorkshire variation of “fit as a flea” – and both had a fiercely independent streak.

Whereas Hilda had a son and grandchildren who called on her every so often, Enid and her husband had never been blessed with children, and other than a cousin from Lincoln she mentioned with a vague wave of her hand, she had no close living relatives that Jasmine was aware of.

As soon as Jasmine got through the door for her weekly cleaning shift, Enid would make a pot of tea and insist the younger woman sat down with her and had a catch up, both of them munching on the homemade shortbread biscuits Enid prided herself on, and sipping tea out of delicate china cups – ‘Might as well do it properly, lovey. I always think tea tastes so much better out of china,’ she’d say.

As Jasmine busied herself tidying and doing the odd bit of ironing, Enid would entertain her with stories of her and Hilda’s antics from when they were younger, filling her in on the gossip that had been flying around town in the sixties and seventies.

By all accounts they’d been a couple of live wires, full of spirit and fun.

Enid had a wickedly sharp sense of humour and a mischievous twinkle in her eye which tickled Jasmine.

She’d grown very fond of her elderly friend and found herself looking forward to her shifts there.

The feeling was mutual, with Enid watching out of the window, waiting for her young friend’s car to arrive.

Seeing her peering around the curtains had made Jasmine’s heart squeeze with affection for her.

Both ladies had shown an interest in the celebration cakes Jasmine made, encouraging her to consider it as a potential business, and priding themselves on spreading the word.

Jasmine knew she’d got a whole tranche of commissions because of them singing her praises to their wide circle of friends, and she was inordinately grateful for their kindness.

It was last winter when Enid had struggled to shake off a virus and ended up in hospital that things had changed.

Jasmine had called round for her usual shift to find her elderly friend slumped in her favourite chair, her breathing laboured and her skin waxy.

‘Oh, Enid, lovey, you don’t look at all well.

’ She’d taken her hand, shocked at how icy-cold it felt.

‘And you’re absolutely nithered. You should’ve rung me as soon as you started to feel poorly, I’d have been here like a shot, brought you some nice warm soup round.

’ Enid had squeezed her hand and smiled weakly, her once bright eyes now so dimmed it had startled Jasmine.

She’d immediately called an ambulance, wishing with all her might for it to arrive quickly.

While they’d waited, she’d set to, snuggling Enid up in a couple of blankets and doing all she could to make sure her friend was as comfortable as was possible in the circumstances.

When the paramedics arrived, they’d wasted no time in whisking Enid off to Middleton-le-Moors hospital.

Sadly, she died of pneumonia a week later, her loss hitting both Hilda and Jasmine hard.

And now she was considering giving up her cleaning job, there was no way Jasmine was going to abandon Hilda, who was slowly working her way through the grieving process by talking about her best friend, tears spilling down the paper-thin skin of her cheeks as she clung onto Jasmine’s hands.

Just thinking about it brought a lump to Jasmine’s throat.

She made a mental note to take a bunch of flowers and a couple of homemade cupcakes to her next shift at Hilda’s.

‘I’m sure Mum’ll be fine with that arrangement, Jazz. She knows you and Hilda are close.’