Short story: Let Them Eat Cake

With her baking business on the line, Yolanda had to stop being such a pushover

My phone chirps for the fifth time since the kettle boiled. Messages are coming so thick and fast that my first cup of morning tea isn’t brewed yet. Who can possibly want me so desperately at 6.30am on a Monday?

I peer at the screen. An inward groan – all five are from Yvonne.

Knowing her since primary school means there’s a special shorthand to our communications, but any urgent message can mean only one thing, and my heart sinks…

I take a steeling gulp of tea before I scroll to the earliest text: Y!! Can u manage a teensy spesh. Tmrw lunch. The second:

6 ppl. The third: Drk ch w/ strwbs? The fourth – a smoothly unapologetic warning not to expect an invitation for myself: PS All work ppl. U’d be bored stiff! The fifth: Pick-up Tues 9am? And just as I’m still stabbing at the screen, a sixth: xx.

She has only managed one complete sentence. Life must be too busy for punctuation. I suppose I should be flattered she didn’t get her PA to send it. More importantly, ‘spesh’ is Yvonne’s euphemism for ‘gratis’, even though her accountancy firm can well afford it.

Sigh. It’s my own fault. I should have put my foot down years ago. But it’s my blind spot. I’ve allowed it to go so long that it now feels as though it would be unreasonable to ask her to start paying me for the cheesecakes I make.

It all began with a white chocolate one with buttons, which I made for her 18th birthday. She was about to go to accountancy school and I was off to start my bakery course at college. We drifted apart a bit but she’s always been there in the background.

Our primary school class was ordered alphabetically, so we two Ys – Yolanda and Yvonne – sat next to each other at the back. I can’t put my finger on when it happened but we became thick as thieves. Yvonne was clever and popular, always up to mischief (for which I often got the blame). We were known as a comedy duo.

So, even when we were adults and Yvonne was no longer my best friend, she was certainly the oldest.

The tie to who I am, and how I began. More importantly, I owed her.

Victor Whyte, who naturally sat at the desk next to mine, was the biggest boy in class. I’d been in fear for my life when I had unintentionally, but accurately, accused him of cheating in a spelling test. The viciousness of his demon pinches was legendary, but the only person who wasn’t afraid of him was Yvonne.

I’ll never forget her pushing me safely behind her and squaring up to him. Thing is – neither has she.

Of course, that was 25 years back. I barely see her these days unless she’s flying by to collect a cheesecake. But you know how hard it is to break old habits…

Hard too, though, not to feel taken for granted. I can’t help but be annoyed.

As I sip my tea, resentful conviction swells – it’s time I grew a backbone. Victor bloomin’ Whyte was a long time ago. I’ve put my heart and soul, not to mention Gran’s inheritance, into my company, and Bake-Well means everything to me. Things started well but the cheesecake business has nosedived lately and I’ve had to cut back to survive.

Yvonne has an accountancy business. You’d think a businesswoman would understand about trends and margins, and actually making some profit to pay the mortgage.

That’s when it hits me! Why hadn’t I thought of it before? I’ll instruct Yvonne’s company to audit Bake-Well’s books. At best, she’ll recognise the effect on profits of making ‘spesh’ cakes, and at worst she’ll do my accounts for free.

That was three months ago. Now it’s Monday morning again, so I’m prepared for another flood of texts. Except, these days, they’re welcome.

Sure enough, another long list of fresh orders. Yvonne’s clients, and their contacts, too, have taken to Bake-Well products.

After examining my books, Yvonne had come to me with a reproachful look. ‘Y, why didn’t you say something? I thought Bake-Well was doing well. You seemed busy. I hadn’t realised your market had got so tough.’

Then she’d brightened. ‘But I’ve got an idea.

What you need is exposure to new clients. And I’m going to provide it.’ She twinkled. ‘After all, who wouldn’t pay good money for great cheesecake?’

Yvonne was clever and popular, always up to mischief

THE END

Sara Partington, 2021