The Peridale Cafe Cozy Box Set 4 Read online

  Dot and Percy ducked out of the tent arm-in-arm, leaving Julia and Barker in the silent aftermath of their bombshell. Barker’s eagerness to march to Mulberry Lane to beat down the door of the flat above the florist was palpable, and she didn’t blame him. A similar feeling rose in her chest, but one thought overrode everything else.

  “We need to trust her,” Julia said, clutching his hand. “She’s a bright girl. There’s probably an innocent explanation. You know what Dot and Percy are like. They’re probably hallucinating from the suffocating heat of their fur.”

  Barker nodded, but Julia knew neither of them believed that. She might have questioned Dot’s observation skills, but having Percy describe Jessie’s very particular hair confirmed their accuracy.

  “We need to trust her,” Julia repeated, more for her own benefit. “She’s never given us a reason not to.”

  Before either of them could dwell, the tent entrance ripped open again, and a tall man with silver hair and dark sunglasses marched in. A skinny and tall young man scurried behind, juggling an armful of bags, followed by a slender, glamorous, dark-haired woman in a thick fur coat, which certainly looked more genuine than Dot and Percy’s. Evidently not having noticed the weather when she dressed that morning, the newcomer wore a leg-exposing pencil skirt and snow-covered heels.

  “You must be Tony.” Julia held out her hand to the man, who suited the descriptor of being a silver fox better than anyone Julia had ever met. “I’m Julia, it’s so nice to meet—”

  “Of course, I’m Tony,” he snapped, ripping off his coat and tossing it over Julia’s outstretched arm. “Who else would I be?” He yanked off his glasses and threw them over his shoulder, and the scrawny young man somehow dived to catch them. “Wow. Is this it? Hardly The Great British Bake Off, is it?” Tony’s eyes snapped down on Julia, the icy blue of his irises more chilling than the snow. “You there, what did you say your name was? Julie?”

  “Juli-a.”

  “Whatever.” Tony sighed, as though bored with her voice already. “Get me a cinnamon latte would you, Julie? Almond milk, no sugar, and I want it exactly seventy-six degrees, no more and no less.”

  “I—”

  “Don’t talk to her like that!” Barker snapped, stepping in front of Julia. “Who do you think you are?”

  “Tony Bridges,” the man said with another sigh. “Award-winning radio disc jockey. And you are?”

  “Her husband.”

  “Oh, excellent.” Tony patted Barker on the shoulder. “Then you can help her with the latte. Seventy-six degrees.”

  Brendan hurried over and pried Barker and Tony apart with his clipboard.

  “Tony, I see you’ve met your fellow judge, Julia South-Brown, owner of the quaint Julia’s Café just across the green. You’ll be working together today.”

  “Charmed.” Tony shot Julia a split-second glance. “Listen, Branden, is it?”

  “Brendan.”

  “Branden, we need to discuss my fee.” Tony wrapped his arm around Brendan’s shoulder and marched him off. “Crikey, what is that smell? Smells like gone-off soup!”

  Tony dragged Brendan into the corner of the room, leaving Julia and Barker to linger awkwardly with the young man and the glamorous woman.

  “I apologise for my husband,” the woman said, a Spanish twang to her silky accent. “My precious Tony gets cranky when he skips lunch.”

  “Cranky?” Barker snapped, glaring in the direction of the DJ. “He’s lucky I didn’t knock his head off! Who does he think he is talking to people like that? He’s nothing like he is on the radio!”

  “My precious Tony works very hard,” the woman explained with an unfazed smile, as though his outbursts were to be expected. “Wakes up very early for the radio show. He doesn’t mean what he says. My name is Camila. It’s so nice to meet you, Julie.”

  “It’s Ju…” Camila walked off to join her husband before Julia could correct her.

  The young man, who Julia assumed was Tony’s unlucky assistant, dragged the bags over to the edge of the room. He popped out a foldable canvas chair and then a small table, on which he sat a glass with a bottle of sparkling water.

  “Light village fun you said?” Barker muttered to Julia.

  “There’s never a dull moment in Peridale.” Julia bundled Vinnie up. “I think I’ve detected the source of the ‘gone-off soup’ smell. C’mon, let’s take him to the café to change. I have a cinnamon latte to make.”

  Chapter Three

  With the assistance of an internet tutorial on Barker’s phone, they successfully changed Vinnie’s nappy on the counter in the kitchen of Julia’s café. Much to Barker’s vocal dislike, Julia made Tony’s latte to his exact specifications, justifying it by making lattes for everyone else in the tent too. She knew it would be a long shot, but she hoped the drink would act as a peace offering to make their afternoon smoother than their introduction.

  “You don’t get a second chance to make a first impression,” Barker reminded her as they walked back to the tent with the lattes and Vinnie. “The man is a first class—”

  “Radio DJ,” Julia cut Barker off and nodded down at Vinnie. “Tiny ears have a habit of picking up naughty words. The last thing we want is for my father and Katie to return to a corrupted child.”

  The crew and Brendan were grateful for their lattes. Tony snatched up his cup without so much as a thank you, leaving two cups behind. Camila took one and smiled her thanks, leaving behind the last cup. Tony’s young assistant eyed it up, but hung back, his hands clenched together. Sensing that he was scared to overstep an invisible boundary that Tony had put in place, Julia picked up the cup and walked over to him.

  “I made them for everyone,” Julia said with a soft smile. “Do you like lattes?”

  The young man nodded, his eyes flitting to Tony, who was busy talking to his wife in hushed tones. Julia pushed the cup towards him, and after a moment of hesitation, he accepted it with a shaky smile.

  “I’m Julia, by the way.”

  “Oliver,” he replied, his voice delicate. “I’m Mr Bridges’ assistant.”

  “You’re not allowed to call him Tony?”

  Oliver shook his head before taking a sip of the hot drink.

  “Is he always like this, or have I caught him on a bad day?”

  Oliver parted his lips to reply, but he stopped himself. His eyes flitted to Tony. Julia followed his gaze to see that the DJ was glaring at them.

  “Boy!” he called, clicking his fingers. “I don’t pay you to stand around chatting. Do your job and put those signs up.”

  Oliver thrust the latte back at Julia with an apologetic smile. He dropped down to one of the bags and produced a thick pile of paper along with a roll of tape. Julia watched as he flitted around the tent sticking bold ‘NO PEANUTS ZONE’ signs under the pink and blue bunting, ruining the quaint atmosphere Brendan and his team had spent all morning creating.

  “It’s like he takes pleasure in treating people like rubbish,” Barker said to Julia, loud enough for Tony to hear if he was paying them any attention, which he wasn’t. “If only people knew what he was really like. His radio ratings would plummet overnight.”

  “I’m here for the cakes, and that’s it. I’m not going to let—”

  The tent entrance ripped open, cutting off Julia mid-sentence. A redheaded woman dressed in an outfit more suited to horse-riding than baking stormed in. She scanned the tent, her eyes narrowing to slits when she landed on Tony, whose back was turned to them as he spoke with his wife. The redhead stormed past Julia, snatching the latte from her hand as she went. A waft of horse manure followed in her wake.

  “Oi, Tony Bridges!” the woman roared, causing the DJ to spin around. “This is for Rocky!”

  The feisty redhead tore the plastic lid off the paper cup before tossing its contents in Tony’s face. Hot cinnamon latte splashed against his skin, soaking his hair and shirt. Steam rose from the liquid as he stumbled back with a throaty roar.

&nbs
p; “Watch your back. Karma is coming for you.” The woman spat on the ground, tossed the cup at him, and marched out of the tent, pushing past Julia and Barker on the way.

  “Tony!” Camila cried, hurrying to her husband as he clawed at his face. “Oh, my precious Tony!”

  “It’s burning!”

  “Seventy-six degrees to be precise,” Barker muttered, holding back a laugh. “It’s hardly volcanic, mate. Calm down.”

  “Dammit, Oliver!” Tony squinted through his pain at his assistant. “You should have stopped her! What’s the point in you being here?”

  Oliver, who was on the other side of the tent, turned bright red as he lingered with the leftover signs in his hand, clearly unsure if he should get closer.

  “Tony, I’m so sorry!” Brendan rushed to the DJ’s aid. “I have no idea what to say! Who was that woman?”

  “How should I know?” Tony cried. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer first thing in the morning! Where’s the bathroom?”

  “W-we don’t h-have one,” Brendan stuttered.

  “What?” Tony’s eyes fully opened as his wife dabbed at his face with a tissue. “What do you expect—”

  “You can use my café,” Julia interjected, saving Brendan from Tony’s wrath. “It’s across the green. I’ll take you now.”

  Tony batted Camila’s hand away and stomped across the tent. Leaving Vinnie with Barker, Julia hurried behind, overtaking and leading the way to her café. After unlocking the door, Tony walked straight to the bathroom, knocking into chairs as he went. The door slammed and locked, leaving Julia to linger and listen to loudly muttered expletives and running water.

  “Do you need anything?” Julia called through the wood after knocking. “I have ice or—”

  “Shut up, woman!”

  Julia surprised herself by making an unpleasant hand gesture at the door. Even though he couldn’t see her, it made her feel better. She dropped her hand when the little bell signalled the café door opening. Oliver crept in with a fresh shirt on a hanger.

  “It was supposed to be for later,” Oliver whispered when he realised his boss wasn’t there. “Is he—”

  “I’ll deal with this,” Julia whispered back. “Go, before he takes it out on you again. I’ve dealt with men like Tony Bridges before. He doesn’t scare me.”

  Oliver’s eyes met Julia’s, and he smiled. He couldn’t have been much older than Jessie. Julia wondered how a young man with a disposition such as Oliver’s could get himself employed by someone like Tony. Oliver draped the shirt over the back of a chair and hurried out when the bathroom lock rattled.

  “A fresh shirt,” Julia announced when Tony marched out of the bathroom. “It’s a little creased, but it will do the job.”

  Tony’s face was bright red, but she suspected that was more from embarrassment than actual burns. He snatched the shirt from her, and, instead of going back into the bathroom, began unbuttoning in front of her. His body was decent for a man in his early fifties. He had some muscle definition and a slightly protruding stomach that gave Julia the impression he ate out at fine restaurants every night but also attended the gym semi-regularly. His skin was thoroughly tanned, but it was the kind of artificial deep tan that only came from hours of lying on sunbeds in tanning salons. From the way he casually undressed in front of her to the way he treated people, Julia concluded he suffered from a toxic mixture of vanity and arrogance that resulted in a more inflated ego than she had ever encountered.

  “Did you know that woman?” Julia asked as Tony shrugged on the fresh shirt.

  “Why would I have known her?”

  “She seemed to know you.”

  “Well, I didn’t know her!” Tony’s fingers fiddled with the buttons. “She’s probably a crazy fan who didn’t win one of my phone-in competitions. The world is full of nasty people.”

  Ignoring the irony of his statement, Julia turned to the tent while Tony tucked his shirt into his jeans. Wrapped-up villagers walked to the tent from every direction, all carrying cake boxes. Julia glanced at the clock on the wall; the bake-off started in ten minutes.

  “I assume I’m going to be judging this alone?” Julia said without turning to him. “It’s probably for the best.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “The bake-off.” Julia nodded in the direction of the tent. “It starts soon.”

  “And?”

  “I just thought you wouldn’t want to do it after threatening to sue Brendan.”

  “Oh, that wasn’t a threat.” Tony walked across the café and ripped open the door. “But that’s for my lawyer to deal with tomorrow. Today, I have a job to do, and I’m nothing if not professional.”

  Without waiting for Julia, Tony made his way across the snowy green, fastening his cuffs. Julia locked her café and followed behind, smiling and nodding to the villagers who were turning up for their bakes to be judged. For their sake, she hoped Tony would honour his promise of being professional, but that hope immediately shattered when she heard more shouting coming from the tent.

  “I’m not doing this with her here!” Tony cried, pointing at one of the women behind the gingham table. “I refuse! She’s stalking me!”

  Julia looked at the woman Tony was pointing at. She was standing behind a cake box, unwinding a multi-coloured scarf from around her neck. She appeared to be of a similar age to Tony, and was plump and short, with a sharp greying bob that looked like it might once have been blonde. Her eyes were beady and sunken behind her round, red cheeks, and her short nose pointed up at the tip. Julia’s immediate judgment was that the woman bore an unfortunate resemblance to a pig, but she shook that thought away, feeling bad that her mind had gone there.

  “Aren’t you happy to see me, Tony?” the woman called as she pulled a red woolly hat from her head. “I baked your favourite.”

  The rest of the entrants awkwardly found places at the table, all observing the unfolding argument with shared confusion.

  “Bev, why do you do this?” Camila cried. “Tony is with me now. You need to leave.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, darlin’,” Bev announced as she fixed her greying bob in a compact mirror. “Believe it or not, I’m here to have my cake judged fairly. I’m not here for my ex-husband. You’re more than welcome to him.”

  Tony grabbed Brendan and marched him off into the corner as Bev walked to the other side of the tent to lay her things on one of the chairs. The whispering started immediately; all eyes fixed on Bev, waiting for her next move. Julia turned to Tony and watched as he spat venom at Brendan through gritted teeth. The organiser leaned away, his clipboard pulled close to his chest. Sighing, Julia walked over and stood between them.

  “You can’t disqualify someone for being a judge’s ex-wife,” Julia said in her calmest voice. “It’s not fair.”

  “Fair?” Tony yelled. “She’s been making my life a misery since the day I left her! She’s been following me. I’ve had to get the police involved. She’s one crazy stunt away from getting herself slapped with a restraining order!”

  “I—I—I—” Brendan stuttered. “If that’s what you—”

  “No.” Julia shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know the woman, and I don’t know you, Tony, but fair is fair. This is a small village baking competition. The outside world doesn’t come into it. It’s about cakes. That’s it.”

  “Cakes?” Tony cried, jabbing his finger at Julia’s face. “You little—”

  “I don’t care who you think you are, but I’m not falling in line.” Julia batted his finger away, puffed out her chest, and planted her fists on her hips. “You’re not the only judge here, and something tells me you’re here for the money and don’t know the first thing about baking.”

  “Are you going to let her talk to me like that?” Tony asked Brendan. “I’m the star attraction!”

  “And I’m the one with the baking knowledge,” Julia butted in, pushing her face in front of Tony’s gaze. “There are a lot of people i
n this tent who have come to compete, and they’ve spent a lot of time baking those cakes, your ex-wife included. Now, are you going to behave yourself for the next two hours so we can get through this, or are you not the professional you claimed to be?”

  Tony glared at Julia for what felt like an age, his icy eyes pinning her to the spot. Despite feeling uncomfortable and sensing that her face was as red as his, she held his gaze without blinking.

  “Whatever,” Tony muttered.

  He pushed past Julia and marched over to his foldable chair. He snapped for Oliver to pour him a glass of sparkling water. Julia looked around and noticed that all eyes were on her. She assumed she’d been whispering, but from the shocked faces of the villagers, it was evident she’d spoken a little louder than she’d intended.

  “Julia, I’m so sorry about him,” Brendan said. “He has a bad reputation in industry circles, but there aren’t many local Peridale celebrities to call on for things like this. I didn’t expect him to be this bad! I’ve been doing these bake-offs all over the Cotswolds, and the other celebs have had their diva moments, but nothing on this scale. I don’t even know why he agreed to come. He’s been asking me to triple his fee all morning! Do you think he’s really going to sue me for the coffee thing?”

  “I wouldn’t put it past him.” Julia glanced at Tony as he slurped sparkling water and glared at the watching crowd.

  “He must think I’m making a profit doing this.” Brendan’s voice took on a desperate tone. “Once I’ve collected the entrant fees, paid for the tent, and paid the judges, there’s nothing left. I do this because I love baking, and I want to spread that love to as many people as I can! If he sues me, I’ll be ruined. Maybe I should call the whole thing off?”

  “No, no.” Julia shook her head as she looked around the tent. “Don’t do that. Look how many people have put effort into baking for this. They came to be judged, and that’s what we’re going to do. If Tony wants to throw his weight around, that’s his prerogative, but I’m not going to bow to it, and neither should you. In two hours, it’ll all be over, and you’ll never have to see him again.”