by Katie Ginger
The worst thing about this whole situation was being in the middle. She knew her mum wasn’t deliberately making her life difficult, it was the downside of them being able to talk so freely to each other, but it did add an extra layer of guilt to Hetty’s already worried mind.
‘And if Dad hasn’t had an affair, and you’ve just stopped communicating, he might genuinely not realise how much he’s been annoying you.’
‘By now he blimmin’ well should know.’ Daisy suddenly stopped and held her daughter’s gaze. ‘Now I’ve walked out he knows I’m not happy and instead of asking me what’s wrong and trying to sort it out, he’s putting his head in the sand and hoping that one morning I’ll just waltz back in and put the eggs on to boil.’
‘But Mum—’
‘Nope, I don’t want to talk about it anymore.’ She held up her hand to silence her daughter. ‘You’re getting me all worked up and I’m hot enough as it is with this weather and my menopause. I’ve really looked forward to our shopping trip seeing as you’ve been so busy. I’ve hardly seen you. So, let’s not talk about it anymore. How are things with you?’
‘Oh, fine,’ Hetty lied.
Truth be told, she was stressed up to the eyeballs trying to get everything ready for the food festival and her brain just wouldn’t stop thinking about the two men in her life. It was all very well when she was busy during the day, desperately trying to get through her to-do list, but in the evening, when she finally kicked back and tried to relax, it was almost impossible to stop her brain from replaying Ben’s kiss, or thinking about John. She gave a confident smile to hide her worries.
‘I’ve got the St John Ambulance coming, to be on hand in case anything happens, and I’ve got a load of volunteer stewards too. People can’t wait to get involved which is great, but I’ve got a lot left to do. What about this one?’ she asked as they reached a different rail and she pointed at an entirely inappropriate dress more suited to a member of Little Mix than her middle-aged mum. Daisy eyed it then stared at Hetty.
‘I’m not even going to justify that with an answer. I like that navy top for you though. It’ll look lovely with your dungarees when it gets a bit cooler.’
‘That’s what I thought.’
‘I’m glad you’re not worrying about certain people bad-mouthing the festival,’ her mum said, picking up a wrap dress.
Hetty stopped examining the top. ‘Wait, what?’
‘Didn’t you know?’
‘No! Who’s been saying what?’ This was the last thing she needed on top of everything else.
Her mum glanced around and gestured for her to calm down. Her voice must have been rising without her noticing. ‘I saw Gwen in town the other day and she was moaning on about it, saying it was never going to work. But we know she’s wrong, don’t we? You just have to ignore the nasties.’
Hetty was absolutely gobsmacked. She knew Gwen had reservations but to go around moaning about the festival was just mean-spirited. After all, she’d hated it when it was nothing more than a jumble sale at the church hall, how could she hate it now it was going to be something big and massive that would help the whole of the town?
Daisy carried on talking. ‘John did well at that interview though, didn’t he? I always liked that Marty Sutcliffe but that was all a bit below the belt if you ask me.’
‘He did do well. I was very proud of him.’
Hetty had been so upset on his behalf it had scared her. She shouldn’t be feeling anything on his behalf, but there he was, in her thoughts more and more. And when he wasn’t there, Ben was. Laid-back, chilled-out, cheeky Ben who had been her everything and was the complete opposite of stern, defensive John. Ben who wanted her back – and she was so sorely tempted to go, to feel part of a couple again. To be with the man she had loved so much for so long.
‘Come on,’ said her mum. ‘What are you thinking about? You’re screwing your face up like a bulldog sucking a wasp. What’s going on in that head of yours?’
‘Well, apart from now wanting to tell Gwen exactly where she can stick her scissors, I’m thinking I’ve got enough on my plate with Be—’ She was just about to let slip about Ben but pulled back in time. She desperately wanted to tell her mum about the kiss and that he wanted to get back together, but she didn’t think Daisy could cope with the stress right now. And Hetty couldn’t face going through all the details.
‘With?’
‘Business. I was going to say business. Oh, don’t worry, Mum. It doesn’t matter.’ She waved it away, keeping her voice light. ‘Just festival stuff. Too boring to talk about now.’
Hooking the dress back onto the rail, Daisy said, ‘Come on. I know what we need.’
‘And what’s that?’ asked Hetty. ‘A shop that sells clothing for people with waists and thighs and tummies?’
‘Prosecco and lunch. My treat.’
‘Now, that’s a good idea.’
***
After nearly letting slip about Ben, Hetty decided enough was enough. Not normally one to take Macie’s – or anyone else’s – relationship advice, Hetty took a detour and pulled up on the seafront. Her nerves were wriggling around in her stomach and not even the happy laugh of children on the beach, or the calm lapping of the tide could stop them. Despite her better judgement telling her to go back home, she was here in Swallowtail Bay, walking towards Ben’s shop, hoping to talk to him before the end of the day. She did think about stopping by Snip-It’s and giving Gwen a good talking-to, but she didn’t have time right now.
In a bid to get her mind off men and completely focused on the final preparations for the food festival, she’d decided to ask Ben if he meant what he said. Once she knew that, she could put all the feelings away again until after the bank holiday weekend.
Hetty had already planned the conversation. She’d take Ben to one side and just ask him directly if he meant all that he’d said the other night, trusting her ability to read the reaction in his face. She didn’t want to be romantic about this. She needed to stay detached and let her head make the decision rather than her heart. Her heart had told her to stay with Ben in the hope that he would eventually make more of an effort with their relationship and it had never happened. Her heart could definitely not be trusted. Her head was the thing for this job.
The aroma of baked bread and sweet, sugary cakes hit her as she entered the shop. It was late afternoon and as expected they were selling the last few things and the place was virtually empty. People came to his shop from the surrounding villages, arriving early in the morning knowing that his best recipes would be sold out by lunch time. He’d often only be open till mid-afternoon, sometimes closing even earlier. She was happy his business was so successful. It was just a shame he hadn’t shown the same level of commitment to their relationship. ‘Hey, gorgeous,’ Ben said, beaming. ‘I didn’t expect to see you.’
‘Hi, Ben. Have you got time for a walk when you’re done?’ The squirming in her tummy was making her feel sick. His wide, carefree grin brought a sparkle to his eyes. They were so attractive Hetty averted her gaze to a lonely bread roll.
‘Sure. Just give me ten minutes, okay?’
‘Okay, I’ll wait outside.’
Hetty left and sat on the bench a little way down the high street. All around, the town was busy. Even the high street, a few roads back from the promenade, was full of residents hurrying about while tourists took a more leisurely approach to the afternoon. The hum of the sea in the background was still evident over the chatter and laughter coming from the groups of people sitting under the striped awnings of the cafés. Hetty watched pigeons fight for crumbs and counted the clouds in the sky, anything to keep her brain occupied. It was the longest ten minutes of her life. Eventually he came out, his shirt covered in dashes of flour, and she resisted the urge to brush them off. Ben gave her a kiss on the cheek and they strolled back towards the seafront where Hetty had parked Myrtle.
‘So, to what do I owe the honour of this invitation? Let me guess, you’r
e ready to let me back into your heart and you want us to go away for the weekend as soon as this food festival of yours is all done?’ Stepping in front of her, he gently placed his hands on her waist and drew her in for a kiss.
Caught up in the moment, Hetty let him, then pulled back. She had to stop him kissing her like that. It made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. And she didn’t want him kissing her in public yet. At least until she was sure they were giving it another go. ‘Not exactly, Ben.’ She gently pushed him away. ‘But I do need to talk to you about what you said the other night.’
They continued walking and were soon on the seafront. The sea breeze blew a gentle whisper onto her face but feeling the heat of the afternoon and the heat of Ben’s cheeky grin hinting at all they’d been and done together, Hetty turned to face the sea. Seagulls were noisily chatting overhead and the calm silver water barely moved. Being direct was the best way with Ben – it didn’t give him the chance to charm his way out of things – so she said, ‘Ben, when you turned up the other night it was …’
‘Wonderful? Amazing? Incredible?’
‘Confusing. We were so in love, Ben, but you were never ready to take us to the next level. For so long I felt like I was stuck in limbo with you and it broke my heart to leave.’ Ben took her hand rubbing it gently with his thumb. He turned her to him and cupped her face, to ensure their eyes met.
‘I know how stupid I’ve been, Hetty. You don’t have to tell me.’
‘I just really want to believe you, but I don’t know if I can.’
‘You can, Hetty. You can.’ He kissed her again so even her bones felt the intense emotion.
‘How will this time be different though? I know you think you mean what you say, you always do when you’re saying it, but it’s after, Ben—’
‘As soon as this food festival’s over, I’ll show you. I know you don’t want to do anything now. I know you inside and out, Hetty. But when this is over, I’ll show you the ring I’ve bought you.’
‘You’ve what?’ Ben’s hand suddenly felt heavy on her face and her lungs were heavy.
His eyes searched hers. ‘I knew you wouldn’t believe just words, Hetty. And I don’t blame you. But I need you to know how serious I am about this – about you – about us.’
Hetty’s heart felt like it was swelling. ‘Are you serious?’
‘As a heart attack.’ She might just have one, the way her heart currently felt. It filled up all the room in her chest and had forgotten how to work properly. ‘When we move in together – your place or mine, I don’t mind, I know how much you love the cottage – we can start making plans.’
She covered his hand with hers and removed it, feeling the need for space. ‘Ben, this is all so much. It’s too soon.’
‘After ten years?’ He laughed. ‘That’s ironic.’
He had a point, but he’d forgotten about the last six months and she hadn’t. Maybe she needed to as well. If their split had been the catalyst for Ben to realise what they’d had, maybe it would just become part of a funny story they told their grandkids. Ben reached his hand up into her hair and eased her towards him for another kiss, but she stepped away. Her body was a whirlpool of emotions all churning round and round.
‘Let’s go to yours and go to bed.’
‘You can go back to your own house, Benjamin, and your own bed. I’ve got work to do this afternoon. And I really should be getting back now.’
‘Fair enough,’ he said, stepping forward and kissing her cheek, sending a flutter over her skin. ‘But you’re killing me, here, Hetty. You know that.’
‘You’ll survive.’ His hands dropped from her hair as she moved to go back to her car.
‘You’d better not be spending time with John Thornhill when you could be spending time with me.’
‘Don’t be silly, Ben,’ she replied with a prickle of annoyance. ‘I’m just tired.’
‘Okay. But as soon as this is all over, we’re talking, all right? But I’ll wait. For now.’
His words shot into her heart and brain. ‘Okay.’ The response didn’t seem enough, but there was nothing else to say. She climbed into Myrtle and with shaking hands drove straight back to her cottage, her brow furrowing at the car already parked there.
Hetty haphazardly pulled into a space and quickly climbed out of the car. There was a man waiting on her doorstep and his handsome face broke into a smile as she exited. ‘John, what are you doing here?’
After the stress of seeing Ben just now, there shouldn’t be any emotion left, but here she was having a reaction to seeing John again. Her breath seized as he turned to face her. Perhaps it was just a sensation leftover from seeing Ben. She hadn’t thought she’d see him till the start of the festival. A lot of the organisation that was left required her on her own, negotiating deals, rounding up volunteers, and thanks to his stint on the radio she was inundated with requests to help.
‘Ah, Hetty, I hope I’m not disturbing you?’ He scratched the back of his head and seemed almost nervous.
‘No. Not all, what can I do for you?’
On the doorstep, John shifted his weight from one foot to the other. ‘Oh, I was wondering if you’d thought about …’ He hesitated as if he wasn’t sure himself what he was doing there. ‘Generators.’
Hetty blinked. ‘Generators?’
‘For the food festival.’
‘Yes, I know you meant the food festival.’ She hadn’t meant to sound rude, but she was incredibly confused. At her sharp tone John dropped his eyes to the ground and guilt stabbed its way inside. Hetty adjusted her glasses. ‘Umm, yes I have thought about them. I’ve got quite a few on order actually. They’ll be delivered the Thursday before the festival when we set up. The funfair’s providing their own. Sorry, I thought I told you.’
‘Ah, yes. I think perhaps you did. Spectacular.’ He said it a little too loudly and Hetty was rather surprised by his over-enthusiastic outburst. She spotted a faint pinkness on his neck. ‘I should have known you’d have thought of it already. Well, I’ll leave you to it. Good afternoon.’
John began to walk back to his car. The easy atmosphere they’d enjoyed together before now had disappeared. He’d seemed so stilted and contained yet not quite as gruff as the man she’d met at first. ‘Is there anything else you wanted to ask me, John?’
‘Umm, no, that’s fine,’ he replied, just reaching his car and opening the door. ‘Goodbye.’
Hetty slowly unlocked her front door, trying to understand what had just happened. Had he really come all the way down from his big house and into the bay just to ask her about generators? He could have rung, or texted, or emailed. He’d said himself how the Thornhills tried to stay away from town as much as possible. Why hadn’t he done any of those things? Her eyes stayed on his car as it wove its way down the busy main road that ran parallel to the sea. Closing the door, she played with the car keys in her hand. Why had he turned up on her doorstep behaving so oddly, and why did she feel like she’d let him down somehow?
Chapter 15
Five days after their last awkward meeting, John stood at the edge of the formal gardens watching the flurry of activity in the four fields Hetty Colman had convinced him to provide. She was a force to be reckoned with and totally unlike any woman he’d ever met. Every time he saw her, he was impressed by her focus, but there was also something warm about her. She was kind of kooky and unusual and he liked that. Over the last few weeks, he’d felt his guard dropping and a strange freedom to relax in her company.
Which was why he’d impulsively turned up on her doorstep last Saturday, wanting nothing more than to chat to her, spend time with her. But as soon as she’d climbed out of her car, nerves fiercer than he’d ever felt before charged up from his stomach, strangling his brain. He’d clammed up, asking a ridiculous question about generators. Generators! It wasn’t exactly a sexy topic. No wonder she’d looked so utterly confused. And, of course she’d have it all organised. To his utter embarrassment she had me
ntioned it to him and now it looked like he hadn’t listened. And why had he said spectacular in such a weird way? He sounded like a boy going through puberty. He’d never felt such a fool and considering the incident with the landing ceiling, that was saying something. The burn of humiliation rose up the back of his neck and he shuddered at the memory. He was definitely not a spur-of-the-moment kind of guy.
A soft tread signalled the arrival of his assistant and before long, Jaz was at his elbow. She stared out at the fields alongside him. ‘Miss Colman seems quite at home, doesn’t she?’ Slightly taken aback by her words, John glanced over. Her face was tight, and she seemed almost angry, an emotion he’d never seen her express before. ‘She’s marching about like she owns the place.’
‘She needs to be organised and in control, otherwise it’ll be chaos. There are a lot of people relying on her to make everything work. Including us,’ he added.
Her eyes remained forward. ‘She just seems very comfortable on your land. Doing whatever she wants.’
‘It’s not quite like that, Jaz. She does have a … natural authority, I suppose.’
‘How are you feeling about the weekend?’ Her tone was flat and her hands tightened around the notepad clutched to her chest.
‘Fine. Nervous, maybe. This could be good for us.’ An almost inaudible snort escaped his assistant. He’d never seen her react like this to anyone and some of their customers could be quite a challenge when they wanted to be. ‘You really don’t like her, do you?’
‘Like I said, I don’t mind her either way,’ she replied with a light-hearted laugh, but John knew her well enough to know this wasn’t true. ‘I just think she’s just a bit over the top.’
John gave a small nod acknowledging her opinion but not necessarily sharing it, and they both stared off into the distance. Suddenly, there it was again – that tension in the air as if someone had put up a wall of concrete between them.
