Image description: The YeastEnders village of Walnutford, with baked-goods characters gathered in Almond Square outside The Queen Victoria Sponge.
“What’s underneath it?”
Peggy Cherry Bakewell repeated Parker Pastry’s words.
Then she pointed at the floor.
“This is a pub. Underneath it is dirt.”
Parker put his battered leather case on the bar.
“Not according to the plans.”
Rye-vita spread the two maps side by side.
One showed the Queen Victoria Sponge and the old mill.
The other showed a shaded space beneath the pub.
“Lower storage,” she said.
Peggy folded her arms.
“I’ve never seen it.”
Dot Crumble adjusted her icing-sugar glasses.
“Well, there was that little door.”
Peggy stared at her.
“What little door?”
“Years ago. In the cellar.”
“You said you didn’t know anything about lower storage.”
“I don’t.”
“But you know about a door?”
“I didn’t know where it went.”
Phil the Pudding shook his head.
“How have we never found it?”
Dot shrugged.
“Someone put a cupboard in front of it.”
“Who?”
“Me.”
“Why?”
“I needed somewhere for the pickled onions.”
Parker cleared his throat.
“Fascinating though Walnutford’s condiment history is, the room beneath this pub matters.”
“Why?” asked Roxy Rhubarb.
“Because years ago, it was listed as neutral storage.”
Ronnie Roly-Poly frowned.
“Neutral?”
“No owner. No business name. Goods went in, goods came out, and nobody asked questions.”
Sticky Nick leaned against the bar.
“The Buttered Bunch used places like that.”
Parker corrected him.
“Not just the Buttered Bunch.”
Nick pushed himself upright.
“What does that mean?”
Parker closed his case.
“It means Bruno Brioche didn’t invent any of this.”
Peggy laughed.
“I could’ve told you that. He doesn’t look clever enough to invent a sandwich.”
Roxy smiled.
“Aunt Peggy.”
“What?”
Rye-vita tapped the map.
“If Bruno didn’t set this up, who did?”
Parker headed for the door.
“I’ve already said too much.”
Ronnie blocked his way.
“You walked into the pub.”
“Yes.”
“You told us there’s a secret room underneath it.”
“Yes.”
“And now you’re leaving?”
“That was the general idea.”
“No.”
Parker glanced at Sticky Nick.
“You always did know interesting people.”
Nick smiled.
“You should meet her sister.”
“I heard that,” said Roxy.
Parker lowered his voice.
“Bruno’s been trying to rebuild something that disappeared years ago. Old routes. Old storage. Old agreements.”
“Something bigger than the Buttered Bunch?” asked Rye-vita.
“Much bigger.”
The pub fell quiet.
Nick shook his head.
“Bruno is the Brioche Boss.”
“Yes.”
“So who gives him orders?”
Parker picked up his case.
“That’s a question you should be very careful about asking.”
Peggy marched towards the cellar door.
“Phil.”
“Yes, Mum?”
“Move the pickled onions.”
Five minutes later, half the pub stood in the cellar.
Phil dragged an old wooden cupboard away from the wall.
Behind it was a narrow metal door.
Roxy grinned.
“Dot was right.”
“Of course I was,” said Dot.
“You couldn’t remember it ten minutes ago.”
“I remember lots of things eventually.”
There was no handle on the door.
Only a keyhole.
Rye-vita looked at the small brass key from the blue tin.
“Surely not.”
Peggy held out her hand.
“Give it here.”
The key fitted.
The lock clicked.
Phil pulled the door open.
Cold air drifted up a flight of stone steps.
At the bottom was a small underground room.
Empty shelves covered the walls.
Faded markings had been painted above them.
Names.
Dates.
Business numbers.
And one symbol repeated again and again.
BB.
Roxy pointed towards the far wall.
“There’s something else.”
Someone had recently painted over part of the old Buttered Bunch symbol.
Above it was a second mark.
A simple black circle surrounding three horizontal lines.
Sticky Nick stopped at the bottom of the stairs.
“I’ve never seen that before.”
Parker Pastry was still standing at the top.
“I have.”
Ronnie called up to him.
“What is it?”
Parker picked up his leather case.
“Proof that Bruno Brioche isn’t the person you should be worried about.”
Blindman Makes 