Semi-Sweet by Roisin Meaney Read Free Book Online

looks great, and it smells wonderful, and we’re all set.” After some splashing and clattering, Geraldine reappeared.
     “And you need a cup of tea, whether you want it or not. And so do I.”
    Hannah looked out through the plate-glass window. “There’s nobody waiting outside,” she said.
    “Why would there be? You’re open all day, aren’t you? People don’t normally have cupcakes for breakfast.”
    Hannah pushed a cocktail stick a fraction farther into the top cupcake on the stand. “These labels are too small. I told Adam
     they were too small.”
    “They are not too small. I can read them fine without my glasses. And I love that writing—it’s so cheery-looking.”
    “Font.”
    “Pardon?”
    “It’s not called writing on a computer, it’s called a font. That one is called Mufferaw. We couldn’t decide for ages between
     that and Sybil Green. I wanted Sybil Green, but Adam persuaded me that this one is easier to read—” She broke off. “What?
     What are you smiling at?”
    Geraldine stepped closer and put her arms around her daughter. “Relax, my darling—it’ll be great. Your cupcakes will be famous
     in no time. You’ll have such fun with this, wait and see.”
    Hannah nodded against her shoulder. “I know I will.”
    But she knew she wouldn’t. She knew she’d made the biggest mistake of her life, taking her grandfather’s money and throwing
     it into this liability, this tiny little cubbyhole on a corner that nobody else had been interested in renting. Why hadn’t
     somebody stopped her? Why were they all letting her make this colossal, expensive mistake?
    Geraldine moved toward the back again. “There’s the kettle now. Are you tea or coffee?”
    “Tea.”
    She didn’t want tea, she wanted to go home. She glanced up again at the big orange wall clock in the shape of a sun that Alice
     and Tom had given her as an opening present. “It’s two minutes to nine,” she called.
    “Deep breaths,” Geraldine called back, and Hannah inhaled shakily. She must be the only idiot opening a shop in the middle
     of a recession, signing a twelve-month lease when she could be out of business in a week. It wasn’t as if cupcakes were basic
     foodstuffs that people would keep on buying no matter how tough times got. They were one of the luxuries everyone was cutting
     back on. She shouldn’t have set the prices so high—who on earth was going to pay €1.75 for a bun, no matter how fancy it looked?
    “They’re too dear,” she called.
    “Nonsense—they’re worth every cent.” Geraldine reappeared with two steaming mugs. “I think we’re all set.” She placed the
     mugs on the counter and smiled. “Now darling, why don’t you open your shop for the very first time?”
    Hannah walked to the door. She stopped, her hand on the key, and looked back at her mother. “Mam, what if nobody comes in?”
    “And what if you open the door,” her mother replied, “so at least they have a choice?”
    Hannah smiled and turned the key. “There.” She switched the sign that Adam had printed from SORRY, FRESH OUT OF CUPCAKES to COME IN—YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO . “We’re officially open,” she said. “I’m officially running my own business.” She paused. “For however long it lasts.”
    “You’ll be here for years. You’ll become an institution.” Geraldine blew on her tea. “People will travel from all over for
     Hannah Robinson’s cupcakes.”
    “I don’t know about that, but I’m here for seven months anyway—Adam made me promise to stick it out till his birthday in August.”
    “August? Didn’t you sign a lease for a year?”
    “Mm-hmm—don’t remind me.”
    They watched the steady stream of pedestrians passing the window.
    “Drink your tea,” Geraldine ordered, and Hannah lifted her mug obediently. A minute went by. Geraldine rubbed with her sleeve
     at a smudge on the glass-topped counter. Hannah tweaked another label on the cupcake stand, then undid and retied her