The Great Allotment Proposal
Page 12
It was just such a damn shame that Jack had gone in the process.
Chapter Nineteen
The microphone crackled.
Adeline and Giles had escaped to Emily’s kitchen for some respite from the press, but as Jonathan called for judges for the prize-giving, they were there within minutes. Champagne in hand, change of clothes for Adeline, make-up redone for both of them. Emily wondered if they were actually starting to enjoy themselves.
Jonathan was standing behind the table of rosettes up on the stage. Wilf, the mayor and the councillors had been positioned on chairs to the right of the rosettes so that Giles and Adeline could be the main prize-givers.
Emily stood next to Jane and Annie in the front row. The crowd were sleepily content behind them, full up on hog roast, cherry pie and pale ale.
‘We’ll begin with the bake off,’ said Jonathan, sorting the rosettes as he spoke.
Winston didn’t win. The prize went to Annie’s Aunt Jane and her walnut-scattered coffee cake.
‘Oh yeah, it was good,’ said Giles as he handed her a hot-pink rosette.
They moved through the handicraft, the Young Photographer Award – Gerty for her snap of the collapsing shed. Then the fruits and the vegetables. Jonathan smugly bagged five rosettes and ugliest vegetable went to Annie’s mum’s tomato cow, and then the flowers. Sunflower went to Alan Neil to great applause. Begonia to Martha, who raised her rosette and shouted, ‘This is for Enid, you buggers.’ And then the dahlia which, of course, went to Emily, Annie, Jane and Holly. The four of them bundled on the stage to collect their rosette.
Emily was the last to leave, Giles having held her hand tight so that she would be forced to pose for photographs. But before she could get past the table of rosettes, there was a commotion at the back of the room. People were moving aside to let someone through. Emily got caught in front of Jonathan, both moving the same way to let her pass.
And then suddenly Jack was there. Jumping onto the stage in one confident leap.
When the paps realised who it was they went nuts, this was almost as good as Giles turning up.
Jack grabbed the mic from Jonathan who muttered, ‘I hope this isn’t going to take long.’
‘Emily…’ Jack started. The cameras went wild.
Emily paused. Stood like a cornered animal. ‘Not now, Jack. Not here,’ she said, glancing warily over at the paparazzi.
But Jack didn’t listen. ‘I’ve been sailing around furious. Absolutely furious.’
The crowd glanced at one another, brows raised.
‘Thinking what the hell just happened? Finally I get the girl. Finally, after all these years I get the goddamn girl—’
The flashes peppered the humid air.
Emily flinched.
‘And then what happens? One photo and it’s over before it began. But I’m sitting on my boat and I’m thinking, I’m not going to have my life ruined by this shit.’
‘Jack,’ Emily warned.
‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, Em, but I’m going to live my life regardless of who’s watching.’ He turned to the paparazzi and said, ‘You can follow me wherever I go. I don’t care.’ Then he looked back at Emily. ‘I love you. I have loved you since I was eighteen years old. And I will love you for ever.’
Emily looked like she was about to burst into tears.
‘And I will fight for you,’ Jack said, and then he dropped down on one knee and the crowd and the paps went crazy. ‘I’m going to do what I should have done years ago. At this very same festival. Emily Hunter-Brown, will you marry me?’
The lights flashed and the shutters snapped but Emily didn’t care any more. Jack didn’t care who was watching and that gave her the courage not care too. Jack was there, dressed in a faded T-shirt and a pair of camouflage shorts, he had oil on his hands and two days’-worth of stubble and maybe a tear in his eye.
‘This is actually more spontaneous than I had prepared for,’ he said when she took a step forward. ‘So all I can actually offer you is a strawberry.’ He reached into his rucksack and pulled out his paper bag of perfect strawberries. ‘I thought I’d make it back in time for the contest.’
Emily laughed as he held up the bright-red fruit.
‘How about it, Em, wanna get hitched?’
She glanced from the strawberry to Jack, his head tilted slightly in anticipation, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, his eyes unblinking against the camera flashes. ‘Too bloody right I do.’
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ISBN: 978 1 474 03081 6
The Great Allotment Proposal
Copyright © 2015 Jenny Oliver
Published in Great Britain (2015)
by Carina, an imprint of Harlequin (UK) Limited, Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR
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