Phrase Writers Group

At every U3A (University of the Third Age) Creative Writing meeting we are given (optional) homework, a subject or phrase to inspire a story or poem.

Friends donated their (first) names

The Gingerbread Cafe Saga:
Old Habits (15 May 2025)
Introducing the popular new owners of the Cafe

At the Dinner Table (5 June 2025)
What is the Cafe owners sideline?

OLD HABITS

Newly promoted Detective Constable Satnam sat in his favourite corner in The Gingerbread Cafe. In the three weeks since it opened, DC Satnam made it his sustenance and pontification preferred position. Best Gingerbread ever, and quiet for contemplation.

He clicked open his fob watch, the first police officer to receive one before retirement. An hour for lunch, and his latest case.

Years of pounding the beat, talking to residents and befriending businesses, learning what looked out of place led to his reputation for closing down crimes. Hence his new job title.

Satnam waved over the Cafe owners, to take his order and the all important chat.

Boisterous Brian and Jelly Jan had won their nicknames within days of the Gingerbread Cafe re-opening, this time under their names. Children always welcome, playing in the garden and scoffing jelly and ice cream.

Nothing fazed them; the louder the kids, all the more Brian bounced offering weary parents Jan’s Gingerbread cakes, on the house.

“The usual?” asked Brian. “Jan has made some Gingerbread scones, they are a real steal”.

“Sounds good to me” said Satnam. “And maybe some cream and jelly”.

Jan’s jelly worked well in place of jam.

“We’re having a Business networking meeting tonight” said Brian. “A few branch bank managers amongst those signed up. Drop by if you can. We’ll reserve your favourite, on the house”.

“Sounds good to me”.

Satnam leaned back in his chair as Jan and Brian bustled away.

He thought back to the briefing in the Police Station. A couple of criminals were working the district with a now familiar modus operandi. They made friends amongst the well-to-do, popular with their children somehow, and selected a stuffed safe. Usually in a branch bank. Breaking in was easy, keys had been copied. Then gelignite opened the safe, and the pair were never seen again.

Hindsight is easy, helps solve future crimes thought Satnam.

How did they get the keys? Pickpocket skills seemed likely, returning them under flowerpots by front doors where they might be found some days later.

Gelignite exploding was noisy. So they had some way of dulling the sound. The most recent incident report mentioned fragments of china and copious amounts of flour in the wrecked safe vicinity, later determined as self-raising.

Satnam wandered over to the kitchen where Jan was hard at work, making Gingerbread goodies in her large traditional basin. She had told him there were no plastic jars or dishes in her cafe.

“My you’re impatient” boomed Brian. “Your scones are on their way, maybe let them cool for a few minutes”.

Satnam returned to his seat. A tray of goodies soon arrived.

“Sheer dynamite” pronounced Brian.

His lunch hour up, with a complimentary doggie bag full of freshly baked Gingerbread scones and a carton of Jan’s jelly, DC Satnam reluctantly returned to his workplace. Bashing the beat, successful old habits kicking in, looking for out of sorts activity.

He glanced at his fob watch. Strange, must have fallen off the chain, in the cafe. He would ask tomorrow.

Jan tut tutted as Brian checked the time on his latest contraband, newly lifted.

He grinned. “Old habits”