‘I feel a bit better. I just have to get on with it now. Stop wallowing in having little energy. I’m forcing myself to get on with it. It’s not doing anyone any favours me sitting around like a wet blanket complaining that I'm shattered. Least of all Maggie.’
‘Correct. Sometimes you just need to wallow though, I think. Wallowing is highly underrated. People want to cart you off when languishing around on your own is what you need to do sometimes.’
‘Yeah. After that, I didn’t want to do anything.’
‘I’m not surprised. Talk about traumatic. You’re doing well, Jools, and don’t let yourself forget it.’
‘Thank you, Lottie.’
‘Trust me, I had people offering me all sorts of things after Charlie passed away - and I don’t just mean advice. What I needed was to just mope and fester for a while.’
‘That's exactly how I’ve felt. Luke kept mentioning counselling. Maybe it’s in the future, but the last thing I want to do is go over it again. Relive the accident and talk about it even more than I was already going through it in my head. I was just ridiculously tired.’
‘It’s there if you need it. I ended up going, actually, once I did feel ready to face the world again, and it really helped to talk it through.’
‘Yes, I’ll keep it in mind. I might try it at some point.’
‘Okay, ready for the Pretty Beach Farmers Market? If there’s one thing that will cheer you up it’s strolling through Pretty Beach on a beautiful day in the sunshine.’
‘You know what? I’m so glad I’ve made the effort. You are so right.’
Chapter 36
Juliette walked along in Pretty Beach pushing her bike along the pavement with one hand and holding her hat in the other. Lottie had gone off over towards the ferry and Seapocket Lane to meet one of her boys who had forgotten his debit card, and so they’d agreed to meet up again by the war memorial and lavender stall and then go and get a coffee.
Wedging her bike up against the railings Juliette wound the lock around her bike and attached it to the fence. She pulled her basket from the front carrier, put her phone and keys in the basket, and felt the sun warming her neck and the backs of her legs.
Strolling along in her pale blue tea dress, she stopped outside Holly’s bakery to see a long line out the door, and looked down towards the Farmers Market and all the stalls set up in the closed-off laneway.
Not wanting to get in the queue for the bakery to say hello to Holly so that she could say another thank you for the night when they had all descended on her and cheered her up, Juliette decided that she’d stop in on her way home when, hopefully, it would be a bit quieter.
Juliette let out a long, deep exhale as she took in the bustling laneway filled with Pretty Beach locals and tourists alike. It was so nice to be out and about and to see everyone mooching around in Pretty Beach visiting the market and making the most of the lovely weather. It felt good to be alive. Really, really good.
Juliette looked all the way down the long line of stalls with their white awnings rustling in the sea breeze. Each stall beautifully set up and adhering to the Pretty Beach bylaw colours made for an amazing sight. She started to weave in and out of people, strolled along stopping here and there to look at stands, and said hello to the odd person as they passed by.
Approaching Prettybloom Fruit Farm’s stall she stood back and admired how lovely it all looked. Underneath the white awning pale blue gingham bunting was criss-crossed all the way to the back of the stall, and baby blue and white tablecloths covered the market tables. Stacks and stacks of beautiful soft fruits were lined up in blue cardboard punnets on every available surface, and a contrasting row through the middle was loaded with glorious blueberries packed into tiny white cartons.
Behind the table, in jeans, white t-shirt, navy-blue butcher’s apron and her beautiful blonde hair tied up in a big floppy bun on top of her head, stood Poppy who’d bought Prettybloom PYO Fruit Farm about five years before and had given birth at home in the farm with Juliette by her side. It was one of Juliette’s cherished memories of working in Pretty Beach.
As soon as Poppy saw Juliette she rushed around to the other side of the stall and hugged Juliette tightly.
‘I’m so sorry, Juliette. So, sorry about what happened with Bella.’
Juliette pursed her lips together and forced herself not to start to cry. Tears stung the corners of her eyes as she nodded at Poppy.
‘Thank you for the basket,’ Juliette replied. Poppy had delivered a basket of fruits, homemade jam, and a large carrot cake from her cafe on the farm in the first few days after the accident and Juliette had only sent a brief text to say thanks.
‘You’re welcome. I didn’t ring the doorbell. I heard you weren’t up for visitors.’
‘Thanks. No, I wasn’t. I definitely wasn’t. I barely got dressed if I’m honest - I was exhausted with it all. It’s only just starting to ease off now that I feel better.’
‘I know the feeling. When my mum died I slobbed around for months. I didn’t ever see myself getting better. I couldn't see the end of it. It was awful. Well, you know the rest of that story. I wouldn't have got out of that mess if it wasn’t for the surgery and for Sarah, thank goodness she flagged it.’
‘Yeah. I know. It hit me like a tonne of bricks once Bella actually got better - it’s funny how it works like that.’
‘So, how is she?’ Poppy asked, adjusting the straps on her butcher’s apron.
‘Doing well. She’s gone back to uni - which to be frank was her only worry. The toes are healing nicely according to the consultant. They'll never get back to what they were. They are quite deformed.’
‘At least she’s back to uni. I can’t believe she’ll have to live with that though.’
‘I know. It was the fact that they were crushed - not easy to deal with bones that do that.’
‘No, I guess not,’ Poppy replied smiling sadly.
Juliette looked behind Poppy at the line of customers forming behind her. ‘You’d better get back to it.’
Poppy turned around. ‘Oh right, yes,’ she replied and walked back around to the other side of the table. ‘Text me Jools. When you feel up to it come up to the farm for a cup of tea. It’s a madhouse as you know, but I’d love you to pop up.’
‘Will do,’ Juliette replied as she strolled on past the stall and walked through the middle of the laneway.
Juliette checked the time on her phone and made her way to the meeting point with Lottie. She passed Pretty Beach Herbs where stacks of huge white pots held bunches of parsley, rosemary and thyme, sage, lovage and oregano. Old white flour sacks lined the table and fluttered in the wind and from behind her glasses Juliette smiled at Tom, proprietor of Pretty Beach Herbs, but kept on walking and didn’t stop to chat.
Juliette was very pleased to have made the decision to venture out, but she didn’t want to be stopping every two minutes having to go through an update on Bella. She’d been through it enough in her own head thousands of times, if not more. She wanted to just stroll around in the sunshine and try to forget about it all for a bit.
Just as she turned around the corner of a stall, she dodged out of the way of a small child on a scooter and was on her way to the war memorial to meet Lottie, when she bumped straight into Lucian McIntyre who was carrying a massive bunch of sunflowers in one hand and held a basket rammed with kale and pot plants in the other.
‘Oh my. Darling! I’m so pleased I’ve bumped into you. How are you now, darling?’
‘Much better, thanks Lucian,’ Juliette replied.
‘So glad to hear. Holly’s been updating me on the progress. Don’t worry, you don’t have to go through it all with me. I bet you’ve been stopped all the way along the market, haven’t you?’
‘You could say that. I’ve bumped into everyone! Not that I’m complaining. It’s nice to feel loved, actually. Nice to be out too.’
‘Yes, Holly said you’d hibernated, and shut yourself away from the world
for a while trying to get your energy back.’
‘I did. But I think I’m over it now. At least, I hope so. It certainly feels better to be out and about.’
‘Good for you, darling. Sometimes one just has to take the bull by the horns, doesn’t one?’
Juliette smiled. ‘That’s one way of putting it. Yes. Oh! I almost forgot, thank you so much for the podcast. Sorry, it seems so long ago now before it all happened.’
‘My pleasure. You got me out of a stitch that week, and didn’t it do well? I knew it would. Tooting my own horn, but I’m usually right, darling.’
‘Yes, you were. It feels like ages ago now. So much has happened since then. I haven’t said thank you properly, sorry.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous! With what you were going through I, and my little podcast, would have been the last thing on your mind, darling!’
‘True, you weren’t at the top of my list,’ Juliette said laughing. ‘Did you know that Lellery got in touch with me after it aired?’
‘Oh my! You mean the Lellery. As in Piccadilly Lellery?’ Lucian exclaimed.
‘Yes! The Lellery,’ Juliette said giggling as Lucian threw his hands up in the air and nearly lost his basket, the pot plants and the huge bunch of sunflowers. A bunch of parsley fell to the floor and Juliette picked it up and put it back in Lucian’s basket.
‘So, what did they want?’ Lucian asked, his eyebrows raised in question.
‘They wanted A Christmas Sparkle in for Christmas in July, but because of the accident I just sent the products, and they did the rest. But they’ve offered to do a collaboration! I still can’t believe it.’
‘And you’ve taken them up on it, I assume?’
‘Oh yes, Lucian. Yes, I definitely have. We’ll see what happens, though. I’m a bit nervous about it, but in the end I bit the bullet and went for it. But we’ll see how it all goes. I’ve got to go up to town for a meeting at their offices.’
‘Well, darling, let me know. That’s the best news I’ve had all week. And I’m so glad you are feeling better. Sometimes you just need to push on through. Get back to the light.’
‘Yes, I think I’m back.’ Juliette replied, beaming.
Chapter 37
Juliette got off the fast train and hurried along the platform with all the commuters, who heads to their phones and earpods in, rushed along on their way to work. As Juliette took off her blazer in the warm morning sunshine, she looked down at her navy-blue ruffled silk blouse and wide-leg trousers and hoped that she’d made the right decision on what to wear to the meeting with Lellery. The whole outfit thing had been a conundrum.
The night before as she’d stood in her underwear trying on different things from her wardrobe, Luke had been worse than useless in his comments on her outfit of choice.
‘Whatever you wear you will look beautiful,’ he’d replied when she’d asked him what he thought.
‘That’s not the point, though. I’ve never been to anything like this before. Ahhhh! What the heck was I thinking? I have to stand up in front of all these executives and give a presentation on A Christmas Sparkle. Am I mad? I have no idea what I’m doing.’
‘You are not mad. You will be fine. Blimey, you are in charge of people who give birth and you’ve been dealing with that for years. I’m sure you’ll be okay with a load of executives whose most pressing decisions of the day will be which one of your baubles they should go with. Just wear what you always wear. You need to be yourself. Be comfortable.’
‘I know that, but it’s so different. I know midwifery. I know it inside out. I don’t know anything about this world! Oh my goodness! Why did I say yes? Why, Luke? I hate it when I feel out of my comfort zone like this.’
‘You said yes because this is a huge opportunity. And you know vintage Christmas decor. They will be blown away by you, just like everyone else is.’
‘It is an opportunity, yes a huge one. Yes, you are correct. I need to keep that in the front of my mind. Positive affirmations.’
Breathe and calm. Breathe and calm. Huge opportunity.
Juliette had continued to pull things out of her wardrobe, hold them up, and then discard them onto the bed. Luke who was lying on the bed looked up from his phone. ‘Why don’t you wear the Christmas Dance dress?’
‘The Christmas Dance dress? The Christmas Dance dress which is satin, clingy and nearly reaches the floor! That’s probably the last thing I would wear. Why am I even asking you what you think?’
‘Oh right, sorry, you look gorgeous in that and you said it makes you feel a million dollars,’ Luke replied, smiling.
‘Yes, I did say that, and it does do that. But not when I’m meeting highfalutin London stylists and some of the country’s top marketing executives. I can’t turn up in evening wear. I want to look like I know what I’m doing. However, I do not have anything that seems to sit right for all this - I don’t want a boho top nor a tea dress.’ Juliette threw up her hands and did a massive sigh.
‘Don't all those media types just wear all black all the time trying to look like they don't care?’
‘Do they? I don’t know. I’ve no idea to be quite honest.’
‘Yeah, I think so. Louie’s wife’s sister works for one of the big advertising agencies in the West End. All I’ve ever seen her in is black trousers and a black top, and she constantly talks about being politically correct and her latest food fad.’
‘Hmm, black - one problem with that.’
‘What’s that?’
‘The only thing I have that is all black apart from the Christmas Dance dress is the shift dress I wore to the funeral, which is wool and there is no way I can wear that. I’ll roast.’
‘Won’t it be air-conditioned in there, though?’
‘Even so. I’ll be hot and sweaty just getting there and then I’ll be paranoid that I might stink if I wear that.’
‘What about that dark blue blouse then and trousers?’
‘What dark blue blouse?’
‘Remember when we were in Seafolly and you went into the charity shop down by the canal. You came out with that top that you said was some fancy store, Luscious or something and would have cost hundreds.’
‘Luke, you are a genius! The navy-blue silk top with the ruffles, yes. That might actually work. I haven’t even worn that yet. I hand-washed it, ironed it, hung it in the utility room and then the accident happened. I’d totally forgotten about it.’
Juliette had opened the other side of the wardrobe, taken out the navy-blue ruffled silk top, tried it on with navy-blue trousers and looked in the mirror. It was perfect, still floaty, and soft and her, but just a bit more business-like to make her feel as if she looked like she knew what she was doing. When, in actual fact, she felt like she hadn’t a clue.
***
Juliette walked along the packed pavement with all the commuters hurrying to work. As she crossed over a pedestrian crossing, a cyclist with a food delivery bag attached to the back of his bike nearly knocked her over, and a woman in sky-high heels and an extremely tight pencil skirt tutted as Juliette bumped into her bag as Juliette tried to steady herself. So much for Londoners being pleasant. She was clearly too used to Pretty Beach. It was packed, and the air around her seemed to be one of look after number one and don’t get in anyone’s way.
Juliette took her phone out of her pocket and looked at the time. She was purposely very early. She had researched online for a local cafe near to the offices so that she could get there, go and grab something to eat, and relax. She’d forgone breakfast to have it in a cafe in a tiny little backstreet behind the offices of Lellery.
Juliette re-checked the map app, looked up at the street sign attached to an old Victorian wall and walked down an extremely narrow, tight street. An illegally parked car took over one side of the pavement and a moped with a bright yellow helmet on the back blocked the doorway to an office block rear door. She peered down the road. It looked the most unlikely place for the hole-in-the-wall cafe, which according to
the review site online, did one of the best English breakfasts in the city.
As she walked along, suddenly the cafe came into her vision. The Little Picadilly Cafe was precisely as it had appeared in the pictures online, and exactly as it had been described in the copious amounts of reviews on the app. It was the sort of place you would walk straight past unless you were looking for it. Big, grey, old-fashioned letters spelled out the name across the top, plastic tables from the sixties sat outside, a sandwich board announced, ‘sandwich bar, restaurant, greasy spoon’ and an old-fashioned green and white striped awning topped the whole scene.
Juliette observed the fact that all the tables outside were taken, and as she walked through the bottle green door a queue of people lined up beside huge display fridges full of all sorts of sandwich fillings snaked its way towards a side door. All the way along the back of the cafe a blackboard listed the many different permutations of breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Tight little Formica tables with two chairs each were topped with tomato sauce, HP, and tiny red pots of salt and pepper. An old man in an extremely shiny, tight black waistcoat shouted at the staff in Italian and flapped his arms around impatiently.
Standing in the queue, Juliette looked across at the packed tables to examine the breakfasts on the plates of other customers. A pair of builders sat next to a table of extremely neatly dressed men in suits and all of them had the same. Large white plates piled with bacon, a spoonful of baked beans, two fried eggs, a sausage, and a smattering of fried mushrooms on the side. A pile of fried bread sat in the middle of each table together with white mugs of strong tea.
Juliette smiled to herself. She’d done well with her research. This place was exactly what she needed before she went to present A Christmas Sparkle to the Lellery executives. The cafe was screaming every single thing that Juliette loved about a fry-up and was about a million miles away from all the fancy cafes and coffee shops she’d passed up on the main road.
A Pretty Beach Wish Page 12
