A Season of Hopes and Dreams. Lynsey James

business profile, but quite another to see her in the flesh after so long. Fred’s gone off for lunch, so it’s only me in the shop. There’s nowhere for me to hide.

      ‘Cleopatra Jones!’ Her face breaks out into a wide grin that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She always insisted on calling me Cleopatra at school, even though I didn’t like it. ‘I haven’t seen you for ages, how are you doing?’

      I ball my shaking hands into fists and try to control my breathing. I hate how she still makes me nervous, after all this time. Like Marjorie, I’m sure Amanda can smell fear, so I try to hide it as much as possible.

      ‘Um… good, thanks.’ My voice is barely a croak. ‘What are you doing here? I-I thought you left the village ages ago.’

      The corners of her lips curve into something resembling a smile. ‘Oh sweetie, I did. I got out of this nothing little place as soon as I could.’ Her nostrils flare a little as she looks around the bakery. ‘I’m working for a wealth management company in Manchester, but I’m using up some annual leave right now. Thought I’d come and visit this place for a little while. No need to ask what you do, I guess.’

      She looks me up and down with her cobalt-blue eyes and I can tell she’s baiting me. She was always good at that, making subtle little digs that would sound innocent to anyone else.

      ‘W-what can I get you?’

      She cocks her head to one side and simpers. ‘Aww, you’re still as shy as always. Some things never change. I remember at school, you were always hiding behind a book or something. Do you have anything paleo? Or has that not quite hit Silverdale yet?’

      I grit my teeth as I wrack my brains to remember what people can eat on the paleo diet. Of course she’d ask me about one of the only diets I haven’t tried.

      When my brain fails to come up with anything, I decide to go with the first thing that catches my eye in the display case. Who knows, it might turn out to be a lucky guess.

      ‘Um… would a fruit tart be OK?’ I ask, gesturing to one of Fred’s expertly decorated creations in our display cabinet. ‘W-we have raspberry o-or maybe blueberry?’

      I kick myself for stuttering and for letting Amanda have the same effect on me she did ten years ago. Some people’s fright factor only increases with age, it seems. All the things I’d love to say to her pile up in my head and turn my other thoughts cloudy.

       Come on, Cleo, you’ve got this. Just stand up to her!

      Amanda chuckles, but there’s no humour behind it. ‘I’ll pass, if you don’t mind. Did you get my email about the school reunion, by the way? It’s in a couple of months at a really posh hotel in Manchester called the George. I hope you’re able to come. Won’t it be lovely to catch up on old times?’

      I pause to think for a second before I answer. The way I see it, I have two choices: I can either say I’m not able to make it and come up with some bullshit excuse, or I can look her right in the eye, tell her I’ll be there and that I can’t wait to see everyone. My mind flashes back to the third item on my bucket list: do one thing that scares me. Making eye contact with Amanda and committing to the reunion definitely fall under that category.

      I take a deep breath to steady my nerves and look her in the eye for the first time ever. Her steely gaze makes my blood run cold, but I hold my nerve. I even add a smile for dramatic effect.

      ‘I did, actually,’ I say, my grin widening, ‘and I’d love to come. It’ll be great to see everyone again and catch up on old times, like you said.’

      I take great delight in watching her smile falter a little. The tiny, almost imperceptible twitch in her lips fills me with more joy than I’d like to admit. It’s a little personal victory that I won’t forget in a hurry.

      ‘Well, I guess I’ll see you there then,’ she says, her immaculate feathers clearly ruffled. She turns to walk towards the door, but stops and faces me again. ‘I’ve got to say, I admire you, Cleo. Given how… stressful you found school, I didn’t think you’d show up at all. Anyway, must be going! Lots to organise before the big day. Ciao!’

      She turns on her heel and marches out of the bakery, leaving a scent of expensive perfume in her wake. I breathe a sigh, but I’m not sure it’s one of relief. The dopey grin I have from unsettling Amanda is still firmly in place, but I’m not sure how I feel about what I’ve just agreed to.

      Still, there’ll be time to figure that out later. It’s official: Cleo Jones is going to the ball! Well, school reunion.

      *

      Later that afternoon, I fill Emma in on everything that’s happened. We grab lunch in the Silver Spoon café and I provide a detailed breakdown of Amanda’s visit to the bakery.

      ‘She actually came into the bakery?! I thought vampires only came out at night. Mind you, even Dracula couldn’t resist your salted caramel brownies.’

      She breaks off some more red velvet cake and shovels it into her mouth. I look down at my jacket potato with beans and hear my stomach rumble. I’d give anything for some red velvet cake.

      ‘You should order some of this,’ she says with a grin. ‘It’s to die for!’

      I chuckle and shake my head. ‘Marjorie would kill me if she found out!’

      ‘Then don’t let her find out.’

      Part of me knows one tiny slice probably won’t hurt, but I can’t bring myself to order any. My brain’s already added up the calories and I just can’t risk it.

      ‘No thanks, I’m enjoying this,’ I lie. ‘You should’ve seen me, Emma; I was such an idiot at first. She asked for something paleo and I ended up babbling about fruit tarts. Then, when she asked me about the reunion, it was like I became a different person. I was… I don’t know… confident, I guess. I looked her right in the eye and told her I’d see her there.’

      Emma stops with the fork halfway to her mouth as her eyes widen. ‘You said what?’

      I nod. ‘No one was more surprised than me, believe me! I think it might have had something to do with this.’

      I reach into my bag and pull out my new bucket list, sliding it across the table to her. We both fall silent as she scans it, her smile growing wider by the second.

      She hands it back to me a few moments later. ‘This is amazing, Cleo. You could totally do all of these things! I reckon you can cross off number three on if you’re going to the reunion. I can just imagine you walking in, marching up to Adam Hartwell and saying “Ha, this is what you missed out on in high school!” It’ll be brilliant.’

      My head snaps up when I hear his name. I haven’t thought about my high-school crush in forever. ‘Oh God, he’s not going, is he?’

      Emma nods. ‘Didn’t you see his RSVP? He must’ve hit Reply to All when he was letting Amanda know he’d be there. I saw it in my inbox today.’

      I shake my head. ‘Nope, Amanda emailed me personally, so I didn’t see anyone else’s RSVP.’

      She frowns as she turns her attention back to her cake. ‘You know, I know it’s been a long time but I could kill him for what he did to you. Still, you’ll get the last laugh when you see him at the reunion. Just think how good it’ll feel to wipe that smug grin off his face.’

      A particularly unpleasant memory crosses my mind; it involves me, Adam Hartwell, the school Leavers’ Dance, and a massive bowl of punch. Facing Amanda Best after so long is one thing, but facing Adam Hartwell is a whole different kettle of fish.

      Suddenly, I’m not sure going to the reunion is such a good idea after all. Maybe I’ll have to find another way to cross number three off my bucket list.

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