Spice. Robert A. Webster

      Cake now felt happy knowing it would be the last time he would attend The Baker of the Year Award or any more awards ceremonies as only sponsored chefs from top restaurants and hotels could enter. Cake always felt uncomfortable and realised he looked awful in a suit with his stocky body balancing on thin spindly legs. Even though top class London tailors made his suits to measure, they hung off him as if a cack-handed blind person had made them. He’d always felt it unfair on his peers entering these competitions because of his heightened olfactory sense, perfect palate, and exceptional talent gave him an indisputable advantage over them. He now wanted to bring his flavours and delicacies from the South and its decadent clientele and make them available in the North. The couple had been together now for three years. They found premises in the Lincoln city centre and having it converted it into a bakery and pâtisserie, which had been Cake’s dream for a long time.

      Jade wanted to venture north with Cake and help him in his endeavour. Although content with her life in London and would miss the money and adulation given to her around London by being with her cooking superstar fiancé, she knew Cake was unhappy working in large hotels. Jade’s job paid well and with Cake’s high salary along with the prize money from competitions, and bonuses, and although having to pay a mortgage in London, they scraped enough money together to finance their Lincoln venture, which was almost complete. Jade regularly commuted to Lincoln to check the building’s progress. Cake was finishing his job at the Avalon in a few weeks’, when he and Jade would then move to the Northern city.

      The big day arrived when ‘CAKE’S Bakery & Pâtisserie’ opened its doors to the public. For Cake and Jade, it was now time to see if the fruits of their labour would pay off. They stood in the pâtisserie like proud parents waiting to show their new-born to the world.

      “The place smells wonderful,” said Jade and kissed Cake, who had been preparing and baking with his two bakers since 5:00 am, sending heavenly aromas drifting through the pâtisserie.

      Cake looked nervous and glanced over at the staff stood in front of the glass displays filled with decorative cakes and pastries. He looked at his two bakers through the glass partition of the bakery, and then looked at Jade, sighed, furrowed his brow, and asked, “Does everything look okay?”

      Jade took his hand and said, “It looks perfect, don’t worry.”

      “I can’t see any people queuing outside,” said Cake, looking through the windows. He glanced at the wall clock. “It’s 7: 45,” said Cake fidgeting.

      Two men then knocked on the door

      “About time they got here, “said Jade, unlocked the door, let the men in, and relocked the door

      “Sorry we’re late,” said Kris Pinyoun, the Lincoln city FC goalkeeper, who arrived with a photographer from the Lincoln gazette to open the establishment.

      Jade looked outside, sighed, and locked the door.

      Cake, Jade, the serving ladies, and Kris went to the centre of the shop and stood around a Louis Vuitton patchwork cake on display. The photographer took pictures of Jade cutting the cake and handing a piece to Kris, who took a forkful off the plate. The photographer snapped away as Kris placed the small chunk into his mouth. His expression changed as the delicate cake dissolved in his mouth as he savoured the flavours.

      ‘Great acting,’ thought the photographer, who continued snapping away at the happy footballer.

      “It’s now eight o’clock,” said Cake sounding anxious and again looking at the wall clock.

      Jade smiled and instructed, “Okay, open the doors.”

      Sarah opened the front door and the staff went behind the counters to their respective workstations.

      Cake and Jade stood with their arms around each other next to Kris Pinyoun, who helped himself to another slice of cake as a few people walked in. The photographer took snaps of the first few customers, as Jade gave them a slice of the Louis Vuitton cake.

      Kris helped himself to another slice from the diminishing cake display and after eating that, he said, “We’re going then.”

      Cake handed Kris his £300 fee.

      “That cake tasted delicious,” said Kris, licking the crumbs off the green paper doily. “Good luck with the business.” He looked back at the diminishing Louis Vuitton cake, but after receiving a scowl from Jade, he realised he’d outstayed his welcome and left.

      A few customers trickled in and out over the next hour.

      “I thought it would be busier,” said Cake sounding disappointed.

      “It will be fine,” said Jade, assuring him, “The first day is always hit-and-miss so don’t worry. Besides, it’s only nine-thirty.”

      “I still think there is an ingredient missing,” said Cake sniffing the aromas.

      “You always think there’s an ingredient missing; the elusive missing spice. Maybe I will ask Big Dave to fart. That usually sends your senses into fits,” said Jade, chuckling.

      “Do you think we have done the right thing? It cost us a lot more money than we thought,” said Cake

      “I’m sure we have,” replied Jade, kissing him on the cheek. “Now bugger off into your bakery and work your magic on a baked Alaska.”

      Cake went into the bakery and watched through the glass partition as customers trickled into the pâtisserie, with Jade and the girls serving. He knew his family would visit later in the day and felt sure they would be proud of him.