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  “Shouldn’t she be showing by now? I didn’t think she looked pregnant.”

  Gemma shrugged. “I’m no expert on being pregnant, but I guess it varies. And possibly your husband dying during the baby’s initial growth might put some stress on how that goes. Who knows.” She licked her lips. “I was thinking I might drive over there next weekend, just to give her a hug and cook her dinner or whatever she needs. Do you want to come, too?”

  I nodded. “Count me in.” I took a deep breath. “Months ago, who would have thought this could happen? That James would be dead and Kerry would be having his baby?”

  “Just goes to show you’ve got to live your best life while you can, every day.” Gemma nodded her head towards me. “Which you’re doing with that icing.”

  Chapter 6

  Going back to Kerry’s two weeks after the funeral was still odd. You couldn’t come here and not see and feel James. Would that fade over time? I hoped not. As Gemma pulled her car into Kerry’s driveway, she swore under her breath. Because there, in front of us, was a red Mini both of us recognised. Still shiny. Still boy-racer. It was the funeral all over again.

  “Kerry knew we were coming, right? You told her it was today?” Instantly, I went from feeling hungry to like I never wanted to eat again. Maddie had asked if I’d be okay with her coming back into our group. Here was my answer.

  Gemma stopped the car and turned her head. “Yes. But Maddie was there when she found out, so I guess she came over to see if Kerry was okay. She’s just being nice, and I guess there’s no timetable for that, is there?”

  My heart did a backflip, then a forward roll as I contemplated my options. I could demand that Gemma reverse out of the driveway, careful not to run over the myriad of children currently playing football on the estate. I could let out a loud scream — we were in the car, and, being in business together, Gemma and I had witnessed each other freaking out many times. Or, I could handle this like the grown-up I really didn’t think I was and deal with Maddie. Because it seemed Maddie was going to be back in my life whether I liked it or not.

  Just as I was deciding to be grown-up and adult, Kerry’s front door opened. She and Maddie appeared. Kerry was laughing at something Maddie said, and then she gave her a big hug. Not just a small one, but a hug that said Maddie had done something lovely for her and she appreciated it.

  Perhaps it was because Maddie had taken time out of her day to come and see her. That wasn’t the action of a callous woman who walked out on her girlfriend without a word. Although maybe there were different rules for lovers and friends in Maddie’s world. Or perhaps I had no idea who she was or what she valued anymore, seeing as I’d only spent a handful of minutes with her in the past decade.

  Gemma starting the car interrupted my thoughts. Before I knew it, we reversed slowly out of the drive and parked up on the kerb. When she cut the engine, I gave Gemma a look.

  She shook her head. “You’re getting out, you can’t hide in here. You know that, right?”

  I sighed, doing as I was told. The sound of our car doors slamming shut were like gun shots in my head.

  Maddie was hovering by her Mini. She raised her hand in greeting.

  Gemma walked over to her, car keys in one hand, dragging me along with her spare hand.

  “Good to see you again.” Maddie gave Gemma a kiss on the cheek, but hung back on doing the same to me, settling instead on an unsure smile. She couldn’t get close anyway, seeing as I was carrying the chocolate ganache cake I’d made earlier — Kerry’s favourite.

  “You, too,” Gemma replied. “You just leaving?”

  Maddie nodded. “I have to get back — family calls. But I wanted to check Kerry was okay. I know how it is after someone close to you dies and the funeral’s over. Everyone else goes back to normal, apart from you. Grief makes your world constrict. I just want to make sure Kerry’s doesn’t do that.” Her gaze landed on my face, and she left it there for a few seconds, then looked away, shaking herself. “Anyway, she seems good, and I’m sure having you both here will cheer her right up.” She moved towards her car. “Have a good evening.”

  She gave us a smile I couldn’t decipher, gave Kerry another wave and then she was gone.

  Kerry gave us both hugs as we walked in, before glancing at me. “Before you say anything, I didn’t know she was coming today.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t been having secret meetings for months like James?”

  “No, I haven’t.” She kissed my cheek, before pushing her fair curls behind her ears. They sprang out again immediately. Kerry had the unruliest hair I’d ever seen, and I wondered if her baby would inherit the same. “But you brought cake, so let’s talk about that instead.” She paused. “And dinner is on James tonight. I even ordered a really lovely bottle of champagne you can have. Not me, obviously.” She patted her not-very-obviously pregnant belly, concealed under a floaty orange and yellow sundress. “But I wanted someone to enjoy some bubbles after the news I had yesterday. But a cup of tea first?”

  We walked through to the kitchen and Gemma put the kettle on, watching Kerry the whole time. “So what news have you had?”

  I put the cake on the worktop and turned to face our host.

  Kerry clutched the worktop behind her. “That I’m bloody rich. I mean, by my standards, bonkers rich. Turns out that James had all these policies set up and they’re paying out. He wasn’t ill when he took them out, and they were all payable on death. You never think you’re going to need them, and most people don’t. But for me, this is huge. Bittersweet, but still.” She hung her head for a moment, before rallying, giving us a smile.

  We took our teas through to the lounge and sat while we processed what Kerry had said. Her biscuit-coloured carpet was springy under foot. She and James had only picked out the teal-blue matching sofas the year before. Beside the large TV was a framed photo of their wedding day, the smiles on their faces so perfect, so unaware of what was ahead. But as Kerry had said on the night before the funeral, she’d still had 13 great years with James, six of them as his wife. She’d never be sorry about that.

  “How much are you talking?” Gemma never was one to beat around the bush.

  “The mortgage is paid off, and I never have to work again if I don’t want to. I mean, I probably will carry on for the moment, but it means I don’t have to worry so much when the baby’s born. James had thought of everything, bless his macabre ways.” She paused. “And if you’ll let me, I want to spend some money on you both, too.”

  “Fantastic. What were you thinking? A yacht each?” Gemma laughed at her own joke, waiting for Kerry to do the same.

  When she didn’t, I reached over and touched her arm. “We don’t want your money. We’re your friends, and you should keep it for you and your baby’s future.”

  Kerry smiled, and I could see the emotion in her eyes. This had to be hard. She was rich, but she’d lost the one who mattered most. “Oh, I know that, and I’m not being frivolous with it. I want to invest it. In stocks, in products and in businesses.” She took a deep breath and looked at me, then at Gemma. “And the first business I want to make a difference in is yours.”

  Hang on a minute, what had she just said? My heart swelled with anticipation, and I strained my ears to hear what Kerry was going to say next.

  Gemma put a hand to her chest. “Ours?”

  Kerry nodded. “Yes. I’ve sat and listened to you talking about how sexist banks are, and how you need money to expand. Well I’ve got that money now, so let me be your bank. I’m not giving you it. It’s an investment. But mainly, I just want to help my best friends out. It’s an interest-free loan. You’ve both been brilliant throughout this whole nightmare of a year. Now let’s make something good come from James’s death, and use the money he left to help you two take Cake Heaven to the next level. And then perhaps the one after that. What do you say?”

  I glanced at Gemma and was pleased to see she was wearing the exact same stunned expression I w
as. For the second time in the past half hour, I wanted to scream, but this time for a positive reason. Yes, I was still scared of moving forward with the business. However, with this barrier down, I was going to have to face my fears.

  Gemma was the first to react. “What do we say? We say that’s fucking amazing. Right, Jus?”

  I nodded. “It’s so generous. Are you sure?”

  Kerry nodded. “Never been surer of anything. I want to live well and to do that, I have to honour James and what he would have wanted. He’d be thrilled his money was going to Cake Heaven; both to help you, and to bring more cake into the world.” Kerry took hold of one of my hands, and one of Gemma’s. “He loved you two. He loved us all. It’s perfect, don’t you think?”

  I loved James, too, and I still missed him every day. In a second, we were all stood in a huddle, arms entwined. “I love you both,” I said, squeezing tight.

  There are those moments in life that are naturally sweet, and this was one of them. I felt it in my bones and in my heart; I felt it pulsing in my blood. Then an image of Maddie popped into my head, her eyes so sad when she spoke about loss. Who had she lost? Someone special? Someone for whom she was still grieving? No matter how crazed she made me feel, I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

  When we released each other and pulled back, smiles wide, there were tears glistening on Gemma and Kerry’s cheeks. Of course there were. But my own were dry, just as they’d been for a decade. I didn’t need to touch them to be sure. Gemma and Kerry got a tissue to blow their noses.

  Meanwhile, I blew out a long breath. “You’re really going to lend us money?” Our business was growing every day thanks to the wonder of Instagram and Gemma’s video skills, and we needed to find a way to monetise and stop turning business away. If Kerry lent us cash, perhaps our moving dream could become a reality.

  She nodded. “I really am. I want to help with the down payment on your business. I want you both to fly. Then once that’s sorted, we can turn our attention to your love lives.”

  I shook my head and looked at Gemma. “I’m not sure that’s such an easy fix. You can’t just go to an auction and get yourself a woman like you can a property, can you? Plus, I’m not sure I’d want to seeing as all sales are final. It’s a bit of a commitment.”

  Kerry laughed. “I promise I won’t sell you to the nearest cartel, okay? But seriously, lending you money for the business will give me a focus, too. I’ll take extra interest in how you’re getting on.” She paused, her face a question mark. “So, you’re on board?”

  “Of course we’re on board!” Gemma replied.

  I laughed. “How could we not be? Thank you, Kerry. You’re amazing.” To be thinking of others at a time when she must be wanting to crawl under her duvet and hide? It showed what a fantastic person she was. “We won’t let you down, will we?”

  Gemma was already shaking her head. “No way. This is added impetus to make it work, not that we wouldn’t anyway. Cake Heaven is going to be the name on everyone’s lips by the time we’re done.”

  “And I know it’ll taste delicious, just like all your cake, so it’s a no-brainer.” Kerry sat back, groaning as she did.

  “How are you feeling, anyway?” I asked.

  Suddenly, she looked tired. “Fine. The pregnancy is wiping me out a bit, but that’s normal. James’s mum keeps coming around to check on me. The other night, I hid under the window ledge and pretended I wasn’t in, even though my car was there. I know people are trying to be kind and make sure I’m okay, but sometimes I just need some time on my own. Netflix, cup of tea, Wispa.”

  She smiled. “I answered the door earlier thinking it was you two, but it was Maddie. It was sweet of her to call round.” Kerry glanced at me. “I know things are weird between you two, but she’s been so supportive and understanding. That’s the kind of person I need in my life at the moment.”

  I swallowed down the reply on the tip of my tongue and kept my game face on. If Kerry was finding Maddie a good ally, then I was pleased. She needed everyone she could in her corner. So long as Maddie steered clear of my corner, I was fine with it. Kind of. I turned to our silent partner. “Did you say the champagne was on ice? Would now be a good time to open it?”

  She gave me a grin. “Now would be the ideal time to open it.” Kerry got up and strode to the kitchen, the fridge opening with a squeak just like always.

  I turned to Gemma. “I can’t believe this is happening. We’re getting money and we can start to expand.”

  Gemma nodded, blinking rapidly. “I know.”

  Kerry appeared at the kitchen doorway, champagne in hand. “Are you any good at opening these?”

  I jumped up. “Champagne-opener is my middle name.” Within seconds the bottle was popped and the glasses filled, and the three of us were on our feet. It had only been two weeks since the funeral, but today was a day of hope in Kerry’s lounge. So different to what had been.

  “I’m just going to have a sip,” Kerry said. “I don’t want baby getting drunk so early on.” She smiled down at her stomach. “To an expanding me, and an expanding Cake Heaven. James would have loved both of them.” Her jaw wobbled as she spoke.

  I took her hand and raised my glass. “To James, to Cake Heaven, but mostly, to you.”

  Gemma leaned in and kissed Kerry’s cheek. “Thanks for your faith, and thank for your investment. We promise not to fuck it up.”

  Chapter 7

  Cupcake Masterclass was a hugely popular weekend class, and today we were bracing ourselves for a 14-strong hen party. Gemma and I had spent last night getting everything prepared so that I could have a bit of a Saturday lie-in. These days, that was anything past 7:00 am. How my university self would have scoffed.

  I pulled my green Golf — named Kermit — into the parking space at the back of our studio, slammed the car door and stretched my back. The sun was strong in the sky even at 9:00 am. I pushed my Ray Bans up my nose and grabbed my black leather bag from the back seat. My Golf was a car I’d always wanted in my teens, and now I was in my thirties and could afford it, it was one of my first things I’d acquired. I still couldn’t quite afford a house, but I was renting one from a friend who gave me mate’s rates. Plus, I was saving for a deposit so I could buy my own as soon as I could, perhaps in Bristol where prices were cheaper.

  I was the first one in, with Gemma taking today off. We took it in turns to take the weekend classes, and today Amisha was my helper, who was an uber-keen baker. I smiled as I assessed our space. Dazzling sunshine bathed the studio from the floor-to-ceiling windows, and the long wooden-topped workbenches looked fresh and inviting, waiting to get messed up with flour, butter, and colour gels. The benches were topped with branded Cake Heaven aprons, along with mixers lined up in rows, a line of pastel colours ready for action.

  When I’d first started teaching baking classes, I’d been winging it. But now, having been doing it for the past few years, I was confident I’d be able to deal with whatever the class threw at me. Most of our clients had some level of competency, but some were complete novices. My favourite part of the job was giving people the extra skills and confidence to take their baking to the next level. That confidence would then invariably have a knock-on effect on the rest of their lives, too.

  I hoped at least some of today’s class were up for baking as well as a good time, but you never could tell with hen parties. They were always such a fuse of dynamics, with workmates, family and friends thrown together, often for the first time. Mix in the stress of weddings and the fact that all they really wanted to do was drink, and hen parties were sometimes more trouble than they were worth.

  I thought back to one particular party last month. Within the first hour, the bride had been in tears over something the group had done. We’d spent the next hour berating men and making tea, trying to calm the bride down. When I’d eventually got them all baking, they’d paid attention for a while. That is, until the prosecco had been demanded early, and then all bets were off. I’d
ended up decorating half the cakes so the party had something they could take home. I was crossing my fingers today’s group wouldn’t be such a headache.

  It’d been six weeks since the funeral, and after the shock of seeing Maddie, I was back on an even keel. The bottom hadn’t fallen out of my world. Yes, I’d been shaken initially, but now I felt I could cope. I’d got over the driveway incident, and hearing Kerry talk about Maddie made me realise maybe she wasn’t such a bad person anymore.

  Plus, it turned out, I was better at this shit than I’d given myself credit for. The intervening years had upped my resilience, and Gemma had been right. I was a badass. Perhaps I should get it emblazoned on an apron for my future classes, just in case anyone was in any doubt.

  I flicked on the lights in the kitchen and put some coffee on — the most important part of any day. I’d just filled the machine with water when Amisha strolled in, giving me a broad smile. She was carrying a tray of vagina cupcakes, which tasted better than they looked. Vagina cupcakes meant today’s hen party was lesbian. I’d forgotten that. I wasn’t a fan of the current trend for genital-themed cupcakes, but whenever there was a hen party, this was us catering to the crowd. I didn’t want to spend my day piping buttercream onto a sponge vulva, but as long as we supplied them ready-made, it scratched the itch. The hens then had time to make cupcakes with artistry they could show to their mother.

  My heart fluttered as it always did when I realised it was a lesbian crowd. We were getting lesbian hen parties more often these days, which was brilliant. However, I was always worried they would involve someone I knew. Or, more to the point, someone I’d slept with over the past decade. Not that I was a slut of the highest order, but I had slept with a handful of women. Maybe two handfuls.

  “You’ve made the cupcakes. Have I told you lately that I love you?”

  “I even made one for both of us, so sixteen vagina cupcakes in all.” Amisha had dyed her hair again. This time, she’d gone metallic green.