All That She Can See(32)

It took him no time at all. Face it, Cherry. You can’t help them. You’re not good enough or strong enough to help them, not on your own.

Cherry felt like the walls were closing in on her. Her fingers tingled, her ears started to ring and her vision blurred. Oh no.

‘George,’ she managed to call out. ‘Help!’ she yelled as the panic attack consumed her.





Once George had left, Cherry closed the shop and took the afternoon off to recover. She felt exhausted from the rush of panic that had consumed her and now her head swam with this predicament she found herself in. She tried to come up with a plan to handle Chase but her moral compass was strong and she was so set in her ways that she couldn’t figure out what she should do differently to make the situation better.

The days that followed were difficult. George stopped coming to the bakery altogether, partly out of embarrassment but Cherry had seen him stumble past at least twice so she knew Chase had kept his custom, even if she hadn’t. Orla still popped in for her Sticky Toffee Pudding to go but she always had tales of the night before, all of them involving Chase and his ‘delicious’ drinks. Sally, Margie and Bruce were old faithfuls and continued to come by as expected but aside from them, the bakery was dead. The odd customer popped in for a cupcake from time to time but they were few and far between and there were certainly fewer familiar faces. Cherry knew that some people associated feeling better with drinking alcohol but she hadn’t expected things to change so drastically because of it. And yet she acknowledged that she never saw anyone eating their way through several slices of cake in the hope of finding enlightenment. Cherry’s way of helping people had always been a gradual process. She had been building up friendships and trust, talking to her customers while building their good feeling bit by bit so they’d never be entirely reliant on her, and they would eventually find a way to help themselves and figure out a way to supply themselves with all the good feeling they needed and Cherry was just giving them a gentle push in the right direction. Chase, on the other hand, with his careless injection of feelings in his drinks compared to Cherry’s careful measures, was giving them a quick fix and like anything that goes up, it must come down. Not only were Cherry’s friends suffering from horrendous hangovers, but such high and immediate doses of good feeling didn’t last for long. Their original Meddlums may have disappeared, but more often than not Cherry saw Guilt take their places the morning after the night before, a manifestation of the remorse they felt for their drunken actions. George had quit his job, and Orla had kissed the leading man of the show she was playing in. Cherry had counted twenty-four people with Guilt in tow in the last two days alone and she was sure that was the tip of the Chase iceberg.

‘Mrs O, I’m fine, I promise,’ Cherry said one evening as she was FaceTiming her old friend. ‘It’s just a minor setback.’

‘What’s happened?’

‘Nothing… bad,’ Cherry replied, looking away from the camera, not wanting Mrs O to worry.

‘Cherry…’ Mrs O peered at her through the screen.

‘It’s just a little… unfriendly here. That’s all.’

‘Are the people of Plymouth not playing nice?’

‘Most of them are. There’s just one in particular who’s being difficult.’

‘Is it a person of the male persuasion?’

‘It is, but his mother and aunt aren’t much of a picnic either.’ Cherry took a sip of water, still feeling shaky despite her panic attack happening days ago. ‘Mrs O, what would you do if someone was doing what you do but making more progress?’ Even though Mrs O was only on the screen she still couldn’t make herself look Mrs O in the eye as she asked the question.

‘What do you mean? I can’t imagine someone baking better cakes than yours!’ Mrs O’s image wobbled and her microphone peaked as she waved her arms dramatically and accidentally hit the screen.

Cherry smiled, amused at this small moment of light relief. ‘It’s not the baking,’ Cherry admitted. ‘But it’s something quite similar.’

‘I’m not quite sure I know exactly what you mean, dear, but if someone is taking your business then you know what you have to do, don’t you?’ Mrs O said and Cherry raised an eyebrow. ‘Bake yours even better.’





13





A Taste Of His Own Medicine





Over the next few days Cherry began to up the dosage in her baking. Only by a little, just to see what effect it might have, but nothing changed. Sally remained obsessive, Margie was still lonely and Orla was always exhausted. The only person it seemed to effect was Bruce, who was far more upbeat than Cherry had ever seen him after he’d eaten his first overly spiked Significance Sundae. Cherry wondered if this was because he was far shorter than her other customers and the increased amount of Significance she’d put in the sundae, even though it was only an incremental increase, made all the difference to Bruce. So Cherry kept his dosage the same the next time but continued to add a little more to the rest but there was still no detectable difference in any of her friends.

‘What’s with the thousand-yard stare?’ Bruce said, pulling himself up onto his usual stool at the counter. ‘Everything okay?’

‘Oh. Yes. You know me,’ Cherry said with an unconvincing smile.