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By 7am the glass on the pastry case has usually fogged up once already, been wiped clear, and started fogging again. The trays inside rarely match from one morning to the next: a row of croissants with torn, uneven layers where the paper lifted, and a stretch of empty tray where this morning's buns have already sold out. It looks less like a finished display than work still in motion, because that's exactly what it is.
Everything in the case is baked that same morning, not proved the night before and finished to order, not bought in and defrosted. A croissant is really only at its best for a couple of hours after it comes out of the oven: the layers pull apart clean and the crust shatters rather than bends. After that it's still perfectly good, but the moment has passed, which is one reason the kitchen doesn't try to hold a fixed line-up all week.
The other reason is simpler: what's good changes. Rhubarb shows up in spring, plums and blackberries later in the year, and the pastry list moves with them rather than sitting still behind a laminated menu. Some things earn a regular spot because people keep asking for them. Others are a one-off, made because someone in the kitchen wanted to try them that week and never repeated.
The case is fullest early. Fable bakes to sell out rather than to keep stock overnight, so by mid-morning some trays are already thinner than others, and by lunchtime a popular shape might be gone completely. None of that means anything's wrong. It's just how a bakery that doesn't hold pastries overnight is supposed to work.
If none of those happen to be in the case when you visit, ask what's just come out. The team behind the counter knows what's fresh and what's about to go, which tends to be more useful than anything printed on a board. The case is fullest before mid-morning on Station Approach in Kew, so that's the best time to catch it in full. If you'd rather check what's likely to be on before you set off, get in touch and someone can tell you what's come out of the oven that day.