The Heavenly Baker Read Online Free

again.’
    â€˜At least not until the weekend,’ Laura replied. ‘I look forward to seeing you.’
    â€˜Thanks for your call.’
    â€˜It’s my pleasure,’ Laura said, and rang off.
    I was happy, ecstatically happy, but I was too hung over to show it. Truthfully, I felt like death warmed up, and it was only as my headache receded that I began to realise what I’d let myself in for.
    The landscape has changed. No more trees and rolling countryside. The vista is now urban; skyscrapers and houses and people. So many people that I inhale without thinking, but I’m here now, so just deal with it. Relax, girlie, and breathe. Collecting my case and suit carrier from the overhead rack, I negotiate exiting the carriage and follow the throng of weekenders flocking to the city for a good time. I stifle a growing desire to turn around and get back on the train. What was I thinking? I wasn’t, remember? I was drunk. The architect of all this madness is Carly. I need to plot a suitably fiendish revenge.
    Feeding my ticket into the gates at the end of the platform, I spot a casually dressed young man holding a sign with my name on it. I notice the sign bears the Dreamtime Studios logo but, being a naturally suspicious individual, I walk on and reach for my phone. Dialling the studios, I wait for someone to pick up.
    â€˜Hello?’
    I recognise Laura’s voice from the other day.
    â€˜Hello, Laura,’ I say.
    â€˜Hello, Ava.’
    â€˜I know this is going to seem overly paranoid, but bear with me. I’m a country girl at heart.’
    â€˜Yes, I did send a young man to meet you and yes, I can describe him for you.’
    â€˜Thank you.’ I feel the weight already starting to lift from my shoulders.
    â€˜He is going to mock you all the way to the studios though,’ admits Laura.
    â€˜That’s fair enough.’
    I pocket my phone and turn around. The guy is smiling smugly, his sign resting against his boot as he watches me with arms folded.
    â€˜Did she tell you I was a serial killer?’ he asks.
    â€˜No, but I can call her back if you like?’
    â€˜I’m Bradley and it’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Michaels.’
    â€˜I’m sorry about that,’ I say, accepting his offered hand. ‘But you can’t be too careful, what with all the psychopaths.’
    â€˜You don’t get out much, do you?’ he replies.
    â€˜I don’t. Why, does it show?’
    â€˜A little,’ he admits, ‘but that’s OK.’
    â€˜Good,’ I say and smile. I’m warming to Bradley already, though not in an I-want-to-jump-his-bones way, because he has immaculately sculpted hair that involves large quantities of hair products and the kind of time spent in front of a mirror which shouts high maintenance. Add that small detail to the fact he works in television and clearly he’s gay. That’s awful! I must stop jumping to conclusions. But he is wearing red jeans. Boy, I’m a long way from home now.
    â€˜So, country girl,’ begins Bradley, taking my case from me and leading me out of the station. ‘Am I right in understanding that you didn’t write your own application?’
    â€˜That’s supposed to be top secret.’
    Bradley rolls his eyes. ‘You need to learn quickly that nothing that you tell Laura remains top secret for very long. I love her dearly, but keeping secrets is not her forte.’
    â€˜My friend wrote the application on the quiet and then sent it when we were both bombed.’
    â€˜Yes, that’s what I heard,’ admits Bradley. ‘I hope you’ve got what it takes because, quite frankly, that’s genius and what I’m about to tell you is top secret so no blabbing.’ He looks at me.
    â€˜OK.’
    â€˜You’ll have to do better than that,’ he insists.
    â€˜Cross my heart,’ I say.
    â€˜Matt wants to take the programme out on the