Summer Strawberries at Swallowtail Bay

by Katie Ginger

  ‘Your dad needs to calm himself down.’

  ‘True.’ Macie nodded in agreement. ‘Maybe that’s why his blood pressure’s so high.’

  Hetty shifted her hands on the wheel. ‘Old feelings have stirred and that’s exactly the problem. It wasn’t that I didn’t love him. It was just that he didn’t love me enough to marry me or even commit to moving in after nearly ten years together.’ Peeking inside this box of feelings was making her decidedly uncomfortable. Her feelings of rejection had faded as her usual confidence returned, but she really didn’t want to complicate this already difficult and intimidating task of organising a giant food festival by throwing in feelings she’d prefer not to deal with.

  ‘Did you actually talk about it though? I mean seriously talk. You used to moan at me, but did you tell him what you wanted?’

  ‘I didn’t moan at you! I used to confide in a friend.’ Macie grinned, clearly glad her teasing was working. Thinking back, Hetty scowled. ‘Over the years there were a few fake-serious conversations where I’d throw in things like, “You’d better marry me soon or I’ll find someone else,” but he always just laughed them off. He never was one to pick up on subtle hints. Then it all came to a head. You remember the almighty row we had where I gave him that ultimatum.’

  ‘Yes I do,’ Macie said. ‘I think you cried for about three days. I’d never seen you cry before. I thought something terrible had happened to your mum or dad or something. Then when you said it was Ben, I was ready to go round and deck him.’

  The mention of her mum and dad reminded her of that whole disaster and she shuddered. ‘Do you think he was right that if he was backed into a corner and made to do something, it wouldn’t mean anything?’

  ‘He kind of has a point but it’s not like he didn’t have enough time to get around to it. Ten years is a long time to wait. I’d probably be gone after five.’

  ‘Maybe I should have. I mean even after that I still gave him a few more months. But nothing.’ Hetty gave an audible sigh.

  ‘Do you believe him now?’

  ‘The trouble with Ben is he always believes things in the moment he’s saying them. It’s whether he still means them later that’s the problem.’

  ‘Maybe you need to talk to him again.’

  ‘Yeah maybe,’ she replied. In the back of her mind she knew Macie was right. The only way she was going to know for sure if Ben was serious was to ask him and that meant opening up the little box of feelings in her head and she wasn’t sure that if she did, she’d ever get them all back inside again.

  ‘Can a leopard change his spots, or a baker change his …’ Macie clearly hadn’t thought through this analogy and Hetty waited with bated breath to see what gem she came up with. ‘Yeast,’ she said after a pause.

  ‘Yeast?’ Hetty screwed up her face. ‘You really need to start thinking before you speak.’

  ‘You know what I mean.’

  ‘I don’t know. I really want to believe him. And I suppose it’s feasible that he has changed and that our break-up forced him to grow up. Is that possible? I think for now I’m going to focus on the food festival until I actually have time to sort my head out. He hasn’t said anything that would make me think things would end differently. I don’t even know if he wants a relationship or if he’d just like a quick shag. His texts have been pretty flirty.’

  ‘If he wanted to get back together seriously, what would you say? What does your heart say?’

  Behind her sunglasses Hetty rolled her eyes. ‘We’re not in a BBC costume drama or a Netflix rom-com, Macie. Hearts can’t be trusted to make their own decisions.’

  ‘Well, I think he wants proper back together and not just a bit of the old rumpety pumpety.’

  ‘Another one of your dad’s?’

  Macie grinned. ‘Rumpety pumpety? Nope, that’s all mine.’

  ‘Wow.’

  ‘And what about John Thornhill?’

  Hetty stiffened. ‘What about him? He’s a business associate, nothing more.’

  ‘He’s a very handsome business associate and from what you’ve said about him lately, not half as bad as we all thought.’

  ‘I don’t mix business with pleasure, Macie. Rule number one.’

  ‘I thought rule number one was always go to the toilet before a kids’ party started because you definitely won’t want to go in there afterwards?’

  ‘That’s rule number two.’

  Macie turned and looked out of the window. ‘You said “pleasure” though. So being with him is pleasurable?’

  Hetty felt a heat creep up her neck. ‘I meant hypothetically.’

  ‘Of course you did. Oh! Oh!’ Macie suddenly waved her arms around like a lunatic. ‘I was meant to remind you this morning to call Bob about judging the awards.’

  ‘No worries,’ she replied, thinking over the to-do list in her brain. ‘I’ll ring Bob later. And I’m going to rope in John Thornhill as it’s his land. Do you think it would be massively big headed if I do it too?’

  ‘No, not at all. You should definitely do it. You’re organising this whole shindig.’

  She was actually looking forward to that bit.

  They carried on the rest of the journey singing along to the radio with the occasional bit of seat dancing until Hetty pulled off the motorway and onto country lanes. After a short drive, she stopped at a large village green where the funfair was set out. At first glance it seemed okay, and Hetty climbed out, hoping that by lunchtime disaster would be averted.

  Unfortunately, that wasn’t to be. As she and Macie drew closer, they saw that the funfair looked the part with all the attractions she wanted and pretty lights strung up here and there, but the rides and mechanical bits were making strange creaking noises, even though no one was on them. They sounded old and worn and immediately Hetty felt her shoulders tighten. The owner came strolling over in grubby jeans that were basically held up by string and with a rather large, angry-looking black dog at his heel. Hetty wasn’t very good with breeds of dog, all she knew was it was big and not at all like the cute dogs on TV advertising toilet roll. The man commanded the dog to sit with a single bark of the word, which it did, but Hetty was still nervous of approaching, and from the look on Macie’s face, so was she.

  ‘Miss Colman? I’m Gid, owner of Gideon Slay’s Funfair.’ He held out his hand, complete with grubby black fingernails, and Hetty shook it. Although in his late fifties, possibly early sixties, he ran an appreciative eye over Macie then smiled at her lecherously. Immediately Hetty stepped a little closer to her friend.

  ‘How do you do? This is my assistant, Macie.’ She deliberately didn’t give Macie’s surname, worried that this guy, who kept eyeing her lasciviously, might belong in the weirdo-stalker category of men, rather than just the dirty but fairly harmless old perv group.

  ‘So, what do you think then?’ He motioned around and the dog gave a loud bark. ‘Quiet, Lady.’

  For a second, Hetty thought he was talking to her and was about to slap him when she noticed the dog’s enormous teeth. She could smell the animal’s breath from where she was standing. She quite liked dogs normally but this one was just a bit too terrifying.

  ‘Lovely,’ Hetty replied, unsure what else to say. This man was nothing like sweet Mr Horrocks, who’d been politeness itself. Hetty had felt instantly at ease in his company. Not to mention completely trusting of his abilities to stick to the rules and regulations. She hadn’t yet been inspired by Mr Slay with his dirty face and impressive lack of teeth. ‘Would it be possible to see your health and safety certificates, please?’

  The slight hesitation that made him reach down and stroke the dog’s head put Hetty on her guard. ‘Well, now, I’d have to dig those out, but they’re all in order. I promise.’ He gave a grin that only made the large gaps where his teeth should have been even more obvious.

  Hetty had heard this sort of nonsense before. In fact, the lovely Mr Horrocks had warned her about unscrupulous and lackadaisical operators when they�
�d met. He’d had all his documents in a folder that he’d given to Hetty before she’d even had to ask for it. No way was she going to entrust this man with little lives at her food festival. To be honest, she wouldn’t trust him with a plastic spoon. ‘I’m sorry to cause you any problems, but I really need to see them now, Mr Slay. I can’t possibly hire you if I haven’t seen them.’

  ‘I tell you what.’ He rocked back on his heels. ‘Why don’t I just bring them with me, and I can show you them when we set up?’

  Hetty straightened her spine authoritatively. ‘No, I’m sorry, Mr Slay. I’m afraid I really do need to see them now and make sure you’re working to all government regulations.’

  On the quiet of the village green, the sound of metal clinking and grinding filled the air. Mr Slay’s face hardened and Hetty had a horrible feeling he was going to set the dog on her. But Mr Slay didn’t give any response at all. He just sniffed, turned his back and sauntered off, yanking the lead of the big black dog, who begrudgingly moved off as well.

  Hetty gawped at Macie and raised her eyebrows, before they quickly headed back to the car. Once they’d got inside and locked the doors, Hetty sunk back against the seat. ‘How scary was that man?’

  ‘Absolutely terrifying,’ Macie agreed. ‘How does he manage to eat his dinner? He only had three teeth. And that dog! I thought it was going to eat me.’

  ‘Urgh, and when he looked at you all—’ Hetty shuddered.

  ‘I know! Super gross. It made me shudder too.’ Macie did the same now.

  Hetty huffed out a breath. While she was relieved they were back in the safety of the car and weren’t hiring creepy Mr Slay, that left only one person on her list of possible replacements. ‘What are we going to do if we don’t have a funfair, Macie? What can we have instead that isn’t going to shout, “Hetty Colman is crap at organising events and can’t deliver what she promised.”’

  Macie’s brow wrinkled. ‘Why are you being wobbly? Nothing fazes you normally.’

  Though her huge sunglasses made her feel like a movie star, Hetty adjusted them nervously, completely lacking a movie star’s confidence. ‘I know, but this is the biggest thing I’ve ever done and if the biggest thing I ever do is a complete failure what’s that going to do to my business? And I just don’t feel that Plan B of extending the inflatables and having the slip and slide will be enough.’ In her mind, Hetty listed her other worries Plus Mum and Dad, and now Ben, she thought. She hadn’t told Macie about her mum and dad yet. She was still desperately clinging to the idea that having some space from each other might make her mum realise how much she loved Hetty’s dad and it might all amount to nothing.

  With a calm, motherly tone, Macie said, ‘Let’s just see what this afternoon’s one is like, shall we, before we start panicking or worrying about Plan B. They might be amazing. Let’s eat something to keep our energy up. I bought some of that delicious cake you pretended to have cooked when I know full well you bought it from the shops.’

  Hetty giggled and relaxed a little. Macie was right. One thing at a time. ‘I have never once pretended to bake anything. I know my limitations.’

  After a fortifying snack they began the drive to their second location. The air-con was cranked up high and more singing and seat dancing ensued. Hetty felt their duet of ‘Especially for You’ was particularly impressive this time.

  Folly’s Funfair were still packed up, the games and rides all folded up like giant kids’ toys, but the man that greeted them couldn’t have been more different to Gideon Slay. He was younger, in his late forties Hetty would have guessed, clean-shaven, with a face that was tanned rather than weather-beaten. He was wearing slightly-too-tight jeans and a crisp white shirt, and carrying an A4 diary and folder as he walked towards them. Hetty immediately approved.

  ‘Hello, there. You must be Miss Colman. I’m George Wade, owner of Folly’s Funfair.’ They shook hands and Hetty introduced Macie. Mr Wade gave a short, sharp nod towards her, and opened his diary. ‘So, you said you needed someone for Friday 23rd through to Monday 26th? The bank holiday weekend.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right. Is there any chance you can help us?’ She was already impressed with his professionalism and there were no weird creaking noises from the rides this time. Although it was yet to be set up, she could see that all the rides were clean and shiny and well maintained.

  Mr Wade flipped open the diary and found the relevant page. ‘We’re booked to be at another event, but that’s with some of the newer rides.’ Hetty glanced again at the rides before her and Mr Wade spotted her inquisitiveness. ‘I’ve got some new rides joining us next week. Kids these days want the type of things you get at theme parks so some of the older ones will be retired. That’s why I thought I might be able to help. Your event sounded more traditional, so you could have some of those older rides. They’re all up to scratch and in full working order,’ he reassured her. ‘It’s just that they don’t make the money anymore. The kids like huge drops and rides that swing them up and down and inside out. Even the new fun house is about twice the size with more movable parts.’

  ‘That sounds great,’ Hetty replied. ‘Especially if all the rides still meet all health and safety requirements.’

  ‘Of course.’ He nodded. ‘I’ve got all the maintenance logs in here.’ He pulled out the A4 folder that had been nestled under the diary and opened it to show neat and orderly records. ‘When we set up we’ll put up bunting to give a really traditional feel.’ Hetty could have kissed him. ‘So, which ones did you have in mind?’

  ‘Well, as you say, traditional ones, ideally. I was thinking the helter-skelter, dodgems, ghost train …’

  Mr Wade nodded along then detailed what he could provide, and discussion quickly moved on to the space available. Relief flooded through Hetty in a powerful wave. No one was going to think she couldn’t deliver what she’d promised. They were going to have pretty much everything she’d originally hoped for. Beside her, Macie made notes and with one disaster averted, Hetty crossed her fingers (and everything else she had) that there weren’t going to be any more – either professional or personal – before the date of the festival actually arrived.

  Chapter 12

  ‘Hey, Dad,’ Hetty called as she pushed the front door open. The air was slightly musty but the heavenly scent coming from her carrier bag masked it.

  It had been ten days since the weird family dinner and her mum’s announcement that she was leaving. Though she’d talked to her dad on the phone, Hetty had put off coming round. Partly because her evenings had been full of work, and partly because after speaking to her dad on the phone and texting each other, he had got so annoyed with her constant checking on him, he’d begun to respond in random emojis. It was a flash of the sense of humour she loved so much about her dad, but she couldn’t deny she was worried about the man she’d find.

  Her dad had always been a strong figure in her life. He was the one who sorted out problems with the electricity, did all the decorating, fixed things in Hetty’s house when they went awry. To know he was falling apart and damaged was more hurtful than she ever imagined it could be. But she couldn’t keep hiding away or forcing her feelings down and neither could he. As an only child she didn’t have any siblings who could do this for her or share the responsibility, she had to do this herself. It was time to pull on her big girl pants and go and see her dad whether he wanted her there or not.

  Stopping off at the best fish and chip shop on her way home from an appointment (a party booking she couldn’t turn down but was going to have to squeeze in before the festival), she had bought them both dinner and was going to at least attempt to cheer him up.

  ‘In here,’ he called from the living room.

  Hetty walked round the living room to find her dad, unkempt and scruffy-looking, slouched in his recliner armchair surrounded by crisp packets and pork pie wrappers. ‘Dad, what are you doing?’

  ‘Watching Pointless.’

  ‘Okay, but, what’s with the sea o
f detritus?’ Her dad loved a beach clean so seeing all this litter around his feet was disturbing. If Jeff ever saw school kids littering, he’d tell them to pick up their rubbish and watch over them sternly while they did as they were told.

  ‘Hmm?’

  Hetty rolled her eyes and held up the carrier bag full of delicious-smelling fish and chips. ‘I bought dinner. Haddock and chips and mushy peas. What do you think?’

  A rather watery smile came to his lips and his eyes misted over a little. ‘You’re a good girl, Hetty. Whatever happens with me and your mum, at least we got you right.’

  ‘Oh, Dad,’ Hetty said, her voice cracking. She walked over to him and knelt down, taking his hand in hers. ‘I’m sure Mum will be back soon. Has she said anything to you?’

  ‘Not really. Only that I’m out all the time and I ignore her.’

  ‘Do you?’ She asked the question gently and he looked up into her eyes, his full face looking thinner. It was amazing how misery could have such an effect in so small amount of time. He looked drawn and desolate.

  ‘Maybe I did a bit. But I didn’t mean to.’

  Trying to be subtle she asked, ‘You haven’t done anything else, have you?’

  ‘Like what?’

  That response and the shocked look on his face answered her question. Surely if he’d been having an affair, he’d look guilty or ashamed and try to deny it. That he had no idea what else she might be referring to was enough for her. If her mum had only plucked up the courage to come out and ask him, she might have found that out too. An uncharacteristic annoyance at her mum flared up. Hetty was sure her mum was acting how she thought right, but she couldn’t help feeling it was all a bit unfair. Her dad was still looking at her, wide-eyed. ‘Never mind. I’ll put out the fish and chips while you clean up this mess. Then I’ll put the hoover round before I go.’

  They ate at the dining-room table, but it felt strangely bereft without her mum there. Even though the last family meal had been strained, it was infinitely more preferable than this silent treatment her dad was giving. It wasn’t personal, Hetty knew that. Her dad smiled at her from time to time but clearly couldn’t bring himself to say more than just one word at a time. Hetty found herself talking utter nonsense to fill the silence.