When Lucas and Diane’s parents arrived home some hours later, they found the children in bed, the pizza boxes and other rubbish neatly disposed of and Sandy sat on the sofa, fully clothed once more with her legs tucked underneath her, an old comedy show playing quietly on the TV while she caught up with some school work on her laptop. Of course, with only a couple of weeks to live, her grades or even attendance didn’t really matter any more but she was a diligent girl and liked to keep on top of her work, plus it was worth it to be able to discuss the assignments with her friends and maybe help them out a little if they were struggling. She looked up and smiled when the parents walked in and promised them that the siblings had been good as gold all night. She then told them about the invitation to the restaurant for an inspection and preliminary tour on Monday afternoon, something that both parents readily agreed to with their dad even offering to take the afternoon off work so that he could pick them up and drive them. Both parents, but especially the mum, found the menu pictures delightful and asked to have them forwarded to her, thinking that she might get one or two framed as keep-sakes and to show any future siblings as the Lucas and Diane would not be around to get embarrassed by them anyway! Sandy then offered to make everyone hot chocolates, as was something of a tradition on these evenings, and the three of them sat and chatted happily while they drank them before the mum drove Sandy home.

The weekend felt surprisingly normal for the whole family, considering what had been agreed on Friday, but when Monday came, Lucas had an even harder time concentrating at school than he had on Friday. It still didn’t seem right to tell everyone, not just yet anyway. What if, he feared, something went wrong at the inspection and they were rejected, or just him? After sharing such big news, having to explain why it was cancelled would be totally humiliating and, even if it was entirely not his fault, there would be those who didn’t believe him and would either say that he had got cold feet and pulled out or that he had been lying about it in the first place. No, he concluded, much better to wait until everything was signed and sealed. Of course, he knew it was something of a gamble, as if Diane decided to spill the beans then the news would be around the whole school by lunch time. When nobody approached him about it even as he waited by the school gate for their dad to pick them up, he concluded that she must also have decided to keep the news to herself for now, a conclusion that was confirmed when she joined him a few minutes later and explained that she was hoping they could get some photographs with the cooking props at the restaurant that she could share with everyone when she broke the news.

It was less than ten minutes after the bell to signal the end of school for the day had rung when their dad pulled up near the gate and the children saw Sandy in the front seat. Greeting them both happily, they slipped into the back and the car began to head across town to Gingerbread. The building had once been some kind of industrial catering facility which meant there was plenty of space for parking around it but, with its eye-catching facade, was still very noticeable from the road, enough to attract passing trade as well as those who already knew that it was there and made a special trip. Signs by the side of the road indicated the entrance and exit and a billboard about a hundred yards back warned hungry motorists to look for it coming up on the right.

“They’re open all day at the weekends,” Sandy explained as they pulled in, in response to the children’s questions about the signs not being lit up and the fact there were only a handful of other cars parked outside, “but on Mondays to Thursdays they close between lunch and dinner. They closed at three,” she explained, pointing to the clock on the dashboard that showed that this was a little over forty minutes ago, “and they’ll open again at five. This is when the kitchen team do their prep work so it’s an ideal time to visit!”

Although the building itself was squat and boxy, a facade had been put up in front which was meant to look like a Germanic fairytale cottage and put Lucas in mind of a giant cuckoo clock. This theming continued around the sides of the building but left the back exposed as it had always been for ease of deliveries and suchlike, although this area was fenced off from public view. A fun-looking play area stood to one side with swings hanging from a fibreglass tree, a climbing frame in the shape of a castle tower and a roundabout styled like a giant cake as well as a row of cages with no backs, a large oven that could be crawled inside and a giant stew pot or cauldron which had around a quarter cut away at the back and a lip around the inside for sitting on so that young patrons could pretend to be cooked or to cook their friends. Above the glass doors was a large sign bearing the restaurant’s name in a suitably Bavarian gothic font and, although it was not switched on at that moment, it was clear that it could be lit up so that each of the white letters would glow. The restaurant area they could see inside was dark and the doors were locked, presumably to prevent any members of the public incapable of picking up hints and who also missed that large “CLOSED” sign hanging inside the door or the painted sign beside the doors advertising their opening hours, wandering in and asking if they were open, so Sandy led them around the side to the staff entrance.

“We count as a meat delivery!” she giggled. “So I’m sure its fine!” The person-sized gate through the fence was clearly marked “NO ENTRY” and “STAFF ONLY” but it was not locked and she was able to open it just by pushing the latch. The back of the restaurant, the part that the public were never meant to see, was quite a contrast from the front. There was not whimsical facade back there, just the white-painted cinder-block wall. There were a set of metal doors that looked about the same size as a small van which was presumably where the suppliers of everything other than the boy and girl meat, which normally walked in by itself, could pull up to unload. There was a big set of corrugated metal gates in the fence too, opposite these doors, to allow larger vehicles in and out. There were three industrial-sized rubbish bins. One black, one green and one that had probably once been white. It was the green one that drew the attention of the small party as it was labelled “Organic Waste Only” which meant that it contained food scraps, including the bones and any other leftovers from the children who had been served up in restaurant, maybe even that very day.

There were two other conventionally sized doors. One had a sign on it clearly marking it as an Emergency Exit with no obvious way to open it from the outside but the other had a combination latch on it and the general griminess in the upper middle of its grey-painted surface that suggested it got pushed a lot. With the children either side of her and their dad loitering just behind, Sandy knocked on the door. It was opened ten seconds or so later by a young man in a kitchen-worker’s uniform. He smiled at them with a questioning tone.

“Hi!” Sandy introduced herself. “I’m Rose’s sister? The Halloween special?” she added with a giggle. The young man’s quizzical smile turned to one of welcome recognition. “I’ve bought the rest of the menu along to be signed off.”

“Oh great!” he opened the door wider. “Come on in. I’ll let her know you’re here. Have you been here before?”

“Yeah, once before.” Sandy confirmed, ushering the children inside and trusting their dad to follow her. “Back here, anyway. Been to the restaurant lots of times, of course.”

“Of course!” the young man echoed with a chuckle, waiting until they were inside then closing the door behind them.


To be continued...