THE TWENTIETH

At some point I must have slept because I wake with a start in the early hours of the morning. I realise the faint noise I hear must be Andreas starting up for the morning, so I lie in bed listening to the sounds, feeling less alone. When it is clear that I am not going to be able to go back to sleep, I get up and make a coffee. I am tired but antsy, so I do what I always do when my life spirals out of control: I bake. Muffins are my friend this morning, so I find myself making several batches. I know I make mean apple and cinnamon muffins, but this morning I go further, adding lemon and poppy seed, carrot and pecan and savoury bran to my repertoire. I also make a couple of chocolate fudge cakes to take down to Bea and Andreas later as a thank you for helping me settle in. Time flies and I realise that it is five to seven, so I put a selection of muffins on a plate and wander down to the back of the shop. The door is just being unlocked by Bea, so she ushers me in, chatting at a hundr