All’s fair in love and war. But not in baking.

A humorous story about baking and village life. Also includes a rockin' reverend, cakes and bunting.

Do what you do best.

So said Henry’s grandad a year ago to the day as he handed Henry a small, red-foil-wrapped box that gave a metallic rattle when he shook it. Inside: a large bunch of mismatched keys held together by a ring the size of a bangle.

The keys to the bakery.

Henry’s bakery.

No going back. Definitely not after Margaret changed the sign on her shop so it read:

THE Village Bakery & Grocery

Home of the Banton Bun

Not THE Banton Bun, mind you—Margaret doesn’t have the Joneses’ secret family recipe—but a reasonable approximation.

As for Henry doing what he does best… Henry Jones the Ninth is no baker, that’s for sure. He wouldn’t even know how to assemble a Banton Bun, let alone bake one. But he does know his way around computers, accounts, managing staff and stock inventory. And he rides a mean tricycle.

You might wonder how that could be a good thing. Read on, and all will be revealed.