‘Happy birthday, darling,’ he said. ‘Did you miss me?’

Austin loped home, kicking himself. Would he never learn? Crossly, he unlocked his front door, freed the babysitter from Darny’s under-table pirate prison, paid her double time as usual, and listlessly hailed her a cab. Bugger it.

Issy stood frozen to the ground. She couldn’t believe it. The very thing she’d dreamed of happening; wept over; wished for more than anything: Graeme, here, begging forgiveness, for another chance.

Graeme fumbled in his bag and pulled out his airport purchase.

‘Uh, here,’ he said.

Graeme! Bringing her a present! Wonders would never cease! Issy could feel Helena’s eyes boring into her back. Still unable to speak, she drew the gift out of the plastic bag. It was a bottle of whisky.

‘Finest malt,’ said Graeme. ‘Costs a hundred and fifty quid normally.’

Issy forced her face into a smile.

‘I don’t drink whisky,’ she said.

‘I know,’ said Graeme. ‘I thought you might like to put it into your cakes or something. For your very important, very successful business.’

Issy looked at him.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said again. ‘I didn’t take you seriously. I was wrong. Can I make it up to you?’

Issy stood, hugging herself. It felt like the wind was rising, it was definitely getting a little colder. Graeme peered into the darkened windows of the Cupcake Café, then glanced up at the empty properties around it. He did a full circuit of Pear Tree Court, tapping his fingers meditatively.

‘You know,’ he said, ‘I always knew this place would come good.’

‘You big fat liar!’ said Issy before she could stop herself. ‘You thought I was going to starve to death.’

‘Hmm. Reverse psychology,’ said Graeme. ‘Yeah, that’s what it was.’

‘Was it?’ said Issy.

‘Anyway, it’s come good. Good for you.’

‘Good for Issy!’ said Helena loudly, and raised her glass, then the few remaining party people raised their glasses too, and it felt like the party was over after that, and Issy didn’t know what to do. Helena was no help, setting off home with Ashok, which meant she didn’t really want to go back there with Graeme, the walls not being all that … and so on.

‘We need to talk,’ she said to Graeme, buying time.

‘We do!’ said Graeme cheerfully, hailing a cab to take them both to Notting Hill, and quietly, confidently, slipping a breath mint into his mouth.

Chapter Fifteen

Helena’s Secret Doughnuts

Buy real ginger. It looks like a knobby root thing. You can ask someone if you can’t figure it out. Not that fruiterer who always asks you if you want any melons. He’s disgusting. Right, now, nick one of those medicine-measuring thingies from work. I know they’re the only ones you can figure out as long as it’s in centilitres or whatever. So do it from that. OK, now grate it.

Stop looking in the mirror on the extractor fan. You’re gorgeous, and if you don’t keep stirring the mix, it’s going to set solid and you’ll get ginger biscuits.

OK, here it is. And the answer is, lime curd. Mrs Darlington’s, from Penrith. You’d never have guessed in a bazillion years.

900g plain flour plus additional for dusting

4 tsp baking powder

2 tsp baking soda

1½ tsp salt

1½ tsp grated ginger

400g sugar

2 oz crystallized ginger, coarsely chopped

500g well-shaken buttermilk

60g unsalted butter, melted and cooled slightly

2 large eggs

1 tbsp vegetable oil

45cl lime curd

Whisk together flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and ¾ teaspoon grated ginger in a large bowl. Whisk together 300g sugar and remaining ¾ teaspoon grated ginger in a shallow bowl. Pulse remaining 100g sugar with crystallized ginger in a food processor until ginger is finely chopped. Transfer this to a bowl and whisk in buttermilk, butter and eggs until smooth. Add buttermilk mixture to flour mixture and stir until a dough forms (dough will be sticky). Turn out dough on to a well-floured surface and knead gently just until it comes together, 10 to 12 times, then form into a ball. Lightly dust work surface and dough with flour, then roll out dough into a 13-inch round (about 1/3 inch thick) with a floured rolling pin. Cut out rounds with a floured cutter and transfer to a lighly floured baking sheet. Gather scraps and reroll, then cut out additional rounds. (Reroll only once.) Heat oil in a wide heavy pot until a splash would result in third-degree burns. Working in batches of seven or eight, carefully add rounds, one at a time, to oil and fry, turning over once, until golden brown, one and a half to two minutes in total per batch. Transfer to paper towels to drain. Cool slightly, then dredge in ginger sugar. Gently slice doughnuts in half and spoon lime curd on the bottom half; top with the second half of the doughnut. Serve three or so to a plate, garnished with slices of crystallized ginger.

‘Well, that took you five blooming seconds,’ said Helena.

‘Stop it,’ said Issy, looking to Pearl for back-up.

‘Yeah,’ said Pearl. ‘More like four.’

‘They don’t respect you if you go running back,’ said Caroline. ‘I haven’t spoken to the Bastard in months.’

‘How’s that working out?’ said Pearl.

‘Fine, thank you, Pearl,’ sniffed Caroline loudly. ‘Ectually, the children see more of him now than they did when we were still together. One Saturday afternoon a fortnight. I’m sure he hates it, he’s taken them to the zoo three times. Good.’

‘Well, nice to know what I’ve got to look forward to,’ said Issy, who’d been expecting people to be slightly more positive about the fact that she had a boyfriend again.

‘What about that gorgeous man from the bank?’ said Helena.

‘That is strictly professional,’ said Issy, lying. But Austin had disappeared at the speed of light. She knew he didn’t want a relationship, and he had Darny. It was stupid to fantasize about things she couldn’t have, like dreaming about a pop star. Whereas having Graeme come back to her …

‘Plus, I have my eye on him,’ said Caroline.

‘What for, fostering?’ said Helena.

‘Sorry, do you work here?’ said Caroline. ‘I only hang about because I get paid.’