Summer Strawberries at Swallowtail Bay

by Katie Ginger

  ‘I don’t believe it will,’ Felix said, almost triumphantly. And John, knowing that if he stayed he’d do something he regretted, marched away, slamming the door behind him.

  Chapter 16

  Hetty consulted her ground plan and showed the driver where exactly the Portaloos were to go. A mixture of excitement and nerves bubbled in her stomach as she watched the truck move off. She’d made it this far, so all negative thoughts were banished. This event was going to be the best thing Swallowtail Bay had ever seen.

  From the moment she’d opened her eyes, excitement and nerves fired her brain and body into life. She’d been up at 4.30 a.m., her mind whizzing about as she mentally double-checked her to-do list, unable to get back to sleep. A pale light had crept in through the sides of the blackout blind, the birds were singing sweetly. After having a cup of tea while curled on the sofa in her dressing gown, Hetty had made sure the big plastic box was full of all her folders, maps, plans, contracts and everything she else she could think of. Once dressed, she’d loaded it into the back of her car along with another box full of cleaning supplies, bin liners, plasters and chocolate bars. This was her much-used emergency box and covered any eventuality she’d come across so far.

  Macie had arrived at the cottage at eight, and together they’d driven up to the lower field to get started. The atmosphere in the car had been almost giddy, like they were driving to a party, not preparing for the culmination of four intense, scary and busy weeks. Not to mention emotionally confusing since that evening with Ben and the mention of a ring, and the unsettling tension she felt whenever John was around.

  It had been five days since their walk along the beach and his casually dropped bomb that an engagement was on the horizon as well as moving in together. But since that night there’d been no more contact. No flirty text messages. Not like last time. He’d gone strangely quiet and Hetty hadn’t had the courage to text him, unsure what to say. She wasn’t sure herself how she felt about the situation and didn’t want to give him the wrong impression. Sometimes when she thought on it, she was flooded with excitement for the future they might have but then, thoughts of John would creep in. Images of him standing on the doorstep waiting to see her.

  When Hetty had pulled up at the large wooden gate to enter the lower field, she was pleased to see they had all been mowed. Soon these empty fields, silent except for birdsong and the ever-present sound of the sea, would be buzzing with the noise of the funfair and full of people. The smell of grass would be replaced by the aromas from all the different types of food they were selling. The thrill of something special had grabbed Hetty again and she couldn’t help but smile.

  Once the Portaloo man had been sent off, Hetty and Macie studied the detailed timetable they’d made for the weekend. So far, things were going pretty much to plan. From the back of Hetty’s car, Macie grabbed two spray cans.

  ‘Right, time to mark out the pitches. Ready?’

  Hetty nodded and together they began making little marks where the pitches were, so they could direct people to their spot. Some last-minute additions had filled the few remaining slots, so just as Hetty had hoped, they had a full house.

  Time flew by and soon it was mid-morning and the sun was shining brightly above them. It was shaping up to be an incredibly hot, sunny day. Bending down to mark another pitch line, the sun beat fiercely on the back of Hetty’s neck and she knew she should have worn a hat. The trouble was she didn’t really have a face for hats, and she was far too old to wear a bandanna. As she stood up to stretch out her back and lifted her head to feel the warmth of the sun on her face, she saw John, his mouth contorted to a tight line and his eyebrows knitted together as he strode across a far field. His eyes were firmly fixed on the ground, his hands in his pockets. Her stomach lurched as she worried he was coming to cancel the food festival, but as he stomped on in a different direction it was like he had no idea she was even there. What misfortune could have made his face cloud like that?

  Before she’d met him, it was how she always imagined his face would be, but now she knew him a little better it seemed odd. Over the time they’d worked together they’d begun to share jokes and he’d showed that beneath his posh stand-offish exterior there was an altogether different personality. Hetty still couldn’t quite figure out what had happened the other night. Had he really come to talk about generators? Surely he’d remembered that was one of the first things she’d organised.

  ‘Right, I’ve marked up all the ones in Section D,’ said Macie, bouncing over. ‘What do you want me to do next?’

  Hetty continued watching John march away. ‘Can you take over my section and I’ll be back in a minute?’

  ‘Yeah of course, is everything all right?’

  ‘I just – yeah,’ she said shaking her head. ‘Just give me a second. I want to catch up with John. Can you keep an eye on the Portaloo guy please?’

  ‘Yeah, sure. That’s a bit brave, though, he’s got a hell of a face on.’

  ‘The Portaloo guy?’ said Hetty, suddenly worried as she tossed her spray can on the ground and jogged towards John.

  ‘No, John Thornhill.’

  Hetty just waved. ‘I’ll be back in five minutes. John? John?’ He turned as if her deafening cry had been a faraway echo he couldn’t quite find the origin of. His face was such a picture of confusion it was almost as if he’d forgotten all about the food festival. ‘Is everything all right?’

  ‘What?’

  From anyone else the sharp tone would have made her angry, but his manner indicated something terrible had happened. For him to be quite so furious and distracted it couldn’t have been an ordinary, everyday problem. Where he’d been walking head down, his shoulders were slumped forward and he seemed smaller than usual, weighed down by whatever it was. Away from the noise of cars and vans, she could hear the breeze in the tall, uncut grass of the other fields and a cacophony of seagulls carried over from the sea. Hetty kept her tone calm and clear. ‘I was just wondering if everything was all right? The food festival isn’t causing you any problems at home, is it? You mentioned your mother being concerned about it. I hope we’re not disturbing you too much already.’

  John unravelled his spine, coming to his full height, and ran a hand through his hair. ‘A private family matter. Nothing to do with the festival.’ He gave a quick polite smile, but his eyes were still clouded.

  ‘Oh right. I hope no one’s ill.’

  ‘No, just money,’ he replied distractedly and rubbed his eye with his forefinger. ‘It’s always money.’ He seemed to suddenly realise he was speaking out loud and changed the subject. ‘I take it everything’s going according to plan this morning?’

  ‘It is,’ she said triumphantly – though she didn’t want to count her chickens, there was still a lot that could go wrong, even at this early stage. Yet, her excitement at what was to come couldn’t be contained. ‘So far so good. There’s a lot left to do, and the vendors start arriving this afternoon to set up their pitches, as well as the funfair and the people providing the screen for the movie night.’ He nodded but didn’t offer anything else, so Hetty kept talking, which was strange considering she wasn’t normally a nervous talker. ‘Are you still okay to do the judging with me and Bob from the Swallowtail Bay business forum tomorrow?’

  ‘Yes, that’s fine,’ he replied, and his demeanour relaxed. ‘I’m looking forward to it.’

  ‘Good. It should be fun. Oh, and I’ve organised a couple of bands to give some nice background music, and some security staff to be here at night. I’m setting them up a little booth, but I just wanted you to know as it’s not something we’d discussed previously.’

  ‘I’m surprised we’ll need it, this isn’t exactly Glastonbury.’

  ‘No, but I think it’s for the best. The funfair will take care of themselves.’ They’d offered to keep an eye on the entire site for her but, to be honest, Hetty didn’t like giving anyone else such a level of control. ‘I just think it’d be good to have someone
around the site to give everyone peace of mind. You, me and the vendors. If you could mention it to your family that would be great. I remembered what you said about your mum hiding in the house this weekend.’ His eyes widened a little and he seemed surprised she’d remembered or cared. ‘I don’t want her to worry that there’s a burglar about if she sees someone wondering around the fields with a torch in the dead of night.’ He nodded but his features had darkened again. ‘Are you sure everything’s all right?’

  John looked up, making confident and deliberate eye contact with her, but underneath the determined set of his features she could see a weakness. Like a fragment of his high and mighty manner had fallen away. ‘Do you get on with your family, Hetty?’

  Startled by the question she felt her head pop backwards. ‘Most of the time. Not always.’

  ‘Do you have any brothers or sisters?’

  ‘No, I’m an only child.’ At times, when she was growing up, she’d wished for a sister, but her parents hadn’t wanted any more children.

  ‘Lucky you. It’s easier that way.’ The anger in his tone was undercut by a hint of regret. So it was something with the brother that had caused this expression.

  ‘Is it?’ she asked. ‘I never had anyone to play with and even now, I don’t have anyone to share family problems with.’

  ‘Do you have any?’ His manner was blunt as usual, but there was kindness in his eyes.

  For a second, Hetty thought about mentioning her mum and dad’s separation and that her mum was considering divorce, but she hadn’t even told Macie who’d been a friend for years. Again, she wasn’t ready to open that box of feelings and risk losing focus on the most important weekend of her life. Hetty answered with a joke. ‘Doesn’t everyone?’

  A small smile lifted the corner of his mouth and a powerful feeling ignited inside her. His eyes had warmed again and were almost as green as the grass beneath her feet. He looked over her shoulder and Hetty turned to see his assistant running from the direction of the house. When she got to John’s side, she was decidedly flustered.

  ‘Is it true? I’ve just spoken to Felix. Please tell me it’s not true.’ She put a hand on his arm. He gave her a piercing stare and, embarrassed, Jaz removed it. But Hetty could see John’s response wasn’t because Jaz had touched him but because she was in danger of letting something personal slip. That he didn’t want to confide in her made Hetty feel strangely sad.

  ‘I’ll be at the house if you need anything. Or call if you want to speak to me—’

  ‘Perhaps,’ interrupted Jaz, looking between Hetty and John, ‘it’d be easier if Miss Colman called me if anything happens?’ John didn’t contradict her, just scowled, though whether at Jaz or the problem he was dealing with, Hetty wasn’t sure.

  ‘What time is the funfair getting here?’ he asked Hetty.

  ‘Any minute now. I’d better be getting back actually. I’ve got more pitches to mark out before everyone arrives.’

  His gaze lingered on hers for a moment. A moment that, from the look on Jaz’s face, was far too long. Hetty was the first to break away and say goodbye before making her way back to the lower field. But as she went, she couldn’t stop the pull of her head to glance over her shoulder. She was surprised to see that at that exact moment, he’d done the same and was watching her too.

  ***

  By half past one Hetty was officially knackered. Her back hurt from marking out pitches and the site was beginning to fill up with people. Every now and then she’d hear a dull thud as packages were lowered to the ground, or the scrape of a crate as it was pulled from a van. Laughter and chatter filled the air, overriding the peaceful birdsong that had started their day when it was just her and Macie.

  As she gazed around, she could see banners and signs going up in front of pitches and they were transformed from boring trestle tables to colourful attractions. Tom, from the best florist’s in town, had made a parking sign for them out of a piece of old wooden board, with letters made of driftwood. He’d also made a sign saying Swallowtail Bay Food Festival which hung from the wooden gate they’d entered through early that morning. Hetty had almost squealed in anticipation.

  Spying the funfair, she decided to say hello and properly welcome them to Swallowtail Bay. It would have been great to have Mr Horrocks but Hetty was pleased with the replacements. Folly’s was looking good as Mr Wade directed his people as to where everything should go. As rides were set up, like Transformers unfurling, a fission of excitement ran down her spine. Their arched sign covered the entrance to their field, painted in bright, enticing colours and someone was hanging bunting between the rides that had already been set up. A large red and yellow helter-skelter sat next to the dodgems where the cars were being wiped down and polished to a shine. Between the bigger rides stood smaller ones like the hook-a-duck, the coconut shy and a candy-floss stall. The ghost train had been unhooked from the van and someone was unloading scary adornments, while another hung fake cobwebs everywhere. It was going to be a real draw. Opposite it, and in bright contrast stood the fun house. Its yellow frontage decorated in red spots and strange mirrors made anyone who passed turn into a short, wide, wiggly version of themselves and Hetty swallowed back a laugh as it did the same to Mr Wade. With the bunting fluttering in the breeze, the funfair would look exactly how Hetty had imagined it – traditional and old-fashioned.

  ‘Miss Colman,’ said Mr Wade as he approached.

  ‘How are you, Mr Wade? Welcome to Swallowtail Bay. Did you find us okay?’

  ‘Oh, yes, fine thanks. This is a nice spot, isn’t it? That’s quite a pile up there.’ He nodded towards Thornhill Hall.

  Hetty felt a little protective towards the place and wondered again what had affected John that morning, and if his day had got any better. Miss Simmons had certainly not been happy to see him speaking to her, but the poor girl was going to have to get over it. ‘Yes, it is a lovely house.’

  ‘Bet that costs a bomb to keep going.’

  ‘Yes, I believe it does.’ She readied herself to defend any barbs sent the Thornhill’s way, but Mr Wade changed the subject. ‘This should be a great weekend. You’ve got a lot of people here. And I saw the ad in the paper.’

  ‘We’ve had a good take-up. I’m very pleased. As it’s been a couple of weeks since I’ve seen you, is it possible to get an up-to-date record of your health and safety checks? I’m afraid I’m a bit of a stickler for things like that.’

  ‘Of course,’ he replied, shoving his hands in his jeans’ pockets. Hetty noticed he had faded black jeans ripped at the knee that were more suited to a teenager. Especially as he’d teamed it with another crisp white shirt that had some fashion designer’s logo on the pocket. ‘I’ll need to get them from the van.’

  ‘No problem. I’ll give you some time to settle in and get sorted out then pop back for them later if that’s okay?’ Hetty left them to it. Her legs were aching from all the squatting to mark pitches and her feet were tired. She and Macie had been working themselves into the ground and deserved a break before they started on the next lot of tasks. She found Macie at the chocolatier’s stall, chatting happily.

  Hetty watched for a moment, taking a swig from her water bottle. Macie had one hip jutted out, her clipboard resting on it and had flicked her beautiful cinnamon-coloured hair back over her shoulder. The stall holder, a handsome blond-haired man with a chiselled jaw and long fingers, seemed very happy to have Macie there. He was sticking some cute fairy lights to the front of his trestle table but kept looking up at her. As he said something funny, Macie’s head flung back in a laugh and she gently touched his arm. The woman knew how to flirt, Hetty had to give her that. Even if most of the time she did flirt with the most undeserving of creatures. With time ticking on, Hetty felt a little guilty for interrupting their moment. ‘Hey, Macie. Ready for a break?’

  ‘Definitely. Give me five minutes.’

  ‘Okay, I’m going to plonk over there.’

  Knowing that seating would be needed
here and there for people to eat the treats they’d bought, and to ensure they’d stay around for longer, Hetty had organised hay bales to be dotted around the site. She perched on one near the entrance. The epic flirting continued with Macie now helping the chocolatier stick up his fairy lights. When she came over, she was a little pink of cheek and shifty of eye, regularly checking her watch.

  ‘Making new friends?’ asked Hetty.

  ‘Just welcoming the stall holders,’ she replied cheekily.

  ‘I hope you’re going to give all our vendors good customer service like that.’

  ‘Of course.’

  Hetty rolled her eyes and swigged again from her water bottle but spluttered when a van she recognised pulled into the field and a familiar voice called her name. Some of the water dribbled down her chin and she quickly wiped it away with the heel of her hand. Hetty shot a look at Macie who with burning cheeks averted her gaze and stared intently at a cloud.

  ‘Hey, stranger,’ said Ben, giving her his wide, confident grin through the open window of his van.

  ‘Ben, what are you doing here?’ Her heart thudded hard in her chest.

  ‘Didn’t Macie tell you? I agreed to have a pitch.’

  ‘No, Macie didn’t tell me.’ She stared at Macie who kept her eyes on the sky.

  ‘Well, I thought, this food festival of Hetty’s is shaping up to be something pretty special. Do I really want to miss out on all the fun? And I thought it would be a good way to see you too.’ He sat back, his grin still firmly in place.

  Embarrassment almost made Hetty shudder. She placed her water bottle on the floor then pulled her site plan from the back pocket of her jeans to study it. Refusing to be drawn into any personal chit-chat, she kept her tone professional and cool. ‘I can’t see The Bake House on here.’

  ‘I asked Macie to put it under the name Baker’s Dozen. That’s my new bakery. Well, possible new bakery.’ Hetty’s eyes scanned the sheet and she found it. She glared at Macie again and Macie, who had been eyeing the plan too, shot her eyes back to the sky. At least she’d had the good sense to put him in the furthest corner of the field meaning anyone coming just for him would have to pass a lot of other stalls first. Hetty couldn’t help but be a little proud, even if she could quite happily beat her to death with the laminated site plan. Hetty pointed to his pitch. ‘You’re over there.’