Summer Strawberries at Swallowtail Bay

by Katie Ginger

She took the proffered jar happily. ‘Oh, I say. How very kind, Mr Hobbs. Thank you.’

  Mr Hobbs slid back to his waiting customers.

  ‘That was a good idea,’ Hetty said as they moved off.

  John shrugged. ‘I do have them occasionally.’

  ‘Well, I’m glad I was here to witness one of them.’ Again they made eye contact and John held her gaze for longer, searching her eyes for a hint that she was feeling the same way as him.

  ‘You two make a good team,’ Macie added with a slight raise of an eyebrow.

  Hetty eyed her and John felt a heat on his cheeks. He’d never been so grateful for his beard before. As Macie began to speak to another stall holder, checking they were okay, Hetty turned to him, her arm brushing against his. ‘We do make a good team. And to think I thought you were going to leave everything to me and just take the money at the end of it.’

  ‘It was my original plan. Mainly because I thought that’s the way you’d want it.’

  She looked confused. ‘Whatever gave you that idea?’

  ‘You just seem the type that likes to be one hundred per cent in charge of everything.’

  Hetty gave a sly smile. ‘I do, but, as this is your land and you’re going to get half the blame if things go wrong, I think it’s good that you’re here too.’

  He chuckled, and the words, ‘So do I,’ were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

  The sun passed over Hetty’s face, causing her eyes to twinkle. A heavy drumbeat pounded in his chest, echoing off his ribs as the space between them shrunk. Hetty was the first to break the spell and look away as Macie came back over. ‘Ready for the next thing?’

  ‘Have I got time for a quick coffee before the next problem?’ she asked Macie. ‘I’m gasping.’

  ‘Course. Let’s grab one from Raina’s stall. She makes the best coffee.’

  ‘Have you got time for one, John?’ He nodded and the three of them wandered off to get a coffee.

  All the stalls were busy, and John was pleased to see that strawberry products were taking pride of place in people’s displays. The hum of generators, and the chatter of adults blended with the delighted squeals of children. The grounds of Thornhill Hall had never felt so alive. His every step brought a new smell as he saw the fresh local produce on display: sweet summer strawberries, earthy potatoes, breads, pastries and cookies, everything you could think of was there. A new life had been born into the place.

  They approached Raina’s stall and the rich, strong aroma filled his nose. He was pleased to see she’d brought some cakes too, including the rich chocolate mousse cake he’d tried at the planning meeting with Hetty. It had been divine, soothing every worldly worry he had. He hadn’t known food could do that to you.

  ‘Hi, Raina,’ Hetty said, then ordered the coffees.

  ‘You’ve done a grand job here, Hetty. This is wonderful. I can’t believe we’re seeing so many Swallowtail Bay residents come out. And it’s only the first day.’

  ‘Thanks, Raina,’ Hetty replied, waving a hello to the lady at the stall next to Raina’s, who owned Old Herbert’s Shop on the high street. They went over and Hetty introduced John. Stella had a number of different artworks on display and he felt a tinge of regret for the paintings they’d had to sell to pay for repairs to the house and cover the bills that seemed to come in every day. Stella’s dog, Frank, a pudgy King Charles spaniel was getting more than his fair share of fusses from anyone who came near, and as John went over, he couldn’t help giving him a good scratch behind his ears.

  The coffee revitalised them all, and he, Macie and Hetty laughed and joked about poor Mrs Martin as they stood outside Raina and Stella’s stalls.

  ‘Did you hear her?’ Macie asked John. ‘She called Hetty a—’

  ‘No, thank you, Miss,’ Hetty interjected. ‘We don’t need a repeat of that.’

  ‘I did,’ John confirmed to Macie. ‘It almost made me blush.’

  They all laughed again just as Hetty’s phone rang. She pulled it from her pocket but as her eyes scanned the screen, the smile fell from her face. ‘Hello, Mum. You okay?’

  Watching on, John grew more and more concerned. His brows knitted together as confusion and pain swept her features. She swallowed hard and as the conversation went on, she seemed to get smaller and smaller. He wanted to reach out and take her hand but kept his own firmly in his pockets. She paced away, her head dipped and voice low so he could hardly hear. Macie, he saw, was worried too.

  After a long silence, during which Hetty inadvertently came nearer to them again, listening intently to whatever was being said, her voice when she finally spoke was quiet and pained. ‘Okay, Mum. I understand. If you’re sure that’s what you want to do then I guess I have to accept it. How’s Dad taken the news? Right. Okay. Bye.’

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Macie asked as soon as Hetty dropped her phone away. Macie’s concern for her friend only heightened John’s own.

  She looked at Macie, then John, and finally back at the ground. ‘My mum and dad are getting divorced.’

  Chapter 20

  Hetty thrust her phone into the back pocket of her jeans and kept her eyes on the ground. The sun was shining so brightly it seemed wrong. How could it be such a lovely day and something so horrible happen? The sun suddenly seemed too strong, the noises too loud and the smells almost overpowering. While she’d known it was a possibility – a very real possibility – she somehow hadn’t let herself believe it would actually come to this.

  It had been a couple of weeks since her mum saw the solicitor and she’d hoped against hope that after their shopping trip, when her mum had clearly been upset someone else was looking after Jeff, that she was beginning to change her mind. Well, that had backfired, hadn’t it? Maybe Hetty herself hadn’t helped matters by shoving her feelings away, refusing to deal with the situation. Perhaps if she’d actually got on with things instead of pretending they weren’t happening, her mum and dad would have been forced to talk to each other and be honest. Would this whole thing have been avoided if they had? She was sure her dad wasn’t having an affair and her mum still hadn’t produced any satisfactory evidence to the contrary. The crux seemed to be that her mum was massively dissatisfied, but they hadn’t sat down and actually addressed any of the issues.

  Hetty watched the stumps of grass under her trainers flattening underfoot then springing back up. She had to spring back up and get through this weekend. There was far too much riding on it for her to lose focus and make mistakes. She’d just have to do what she’d done about Ben and lock her feelings away to be dealt with when this was all over. Macie and John had been watching her, she knew, but she wasn’t going into details now.

  ‘Hetty? Are you okay?’ asked Macie, gently touching her arm.

  ‘Hetty?’ This time John spoke, piercing her thoughts, pulling her out. His eyes were full of kindness and concern. ‘Do you need to sit down, or have some water or something?’

  The noise of the day flooded back into her ears and the different smells hit her nostrils: bacon, something sweet, then something spicy. The noise of the funfair filled her ears with tinny, cheerful sounds. She could hear children laughing, people talking, and pots and pans being banged, moved and scraped. She’d worked so hard for this, and it was only Friday. Saturday and Sunday promised to be even better. She really had to stay calm; she didn’t want to let herself or John down. John, with his heavy eyebrows that made him look stern, though that was nowhere near the truth of him. Taking a deep breath, Hetty rallied, plastering on a smile. ‘No, no. I’m fine. Come on, Macie. I want to check on the funfair and bouncy pirate ship.’

  Macie paused. ‘Hetty, are you sure you don’t need to take a few minutes. This must be quite a shock.’

  ‘It is and it isn’t,’ she answered quickly, wanting to drop the subject.

  ‘But to tell you now. Today. How—’

  ‘Apparently Mum accidentally told Mrs Jarvis who’s coming to the food festival today. Mum didn’t want to te
ll me like this, but she didn’t want Mrs Jarvis to mention something first.’

  ‘Okay,’ said John. ‘But still, why don’t we take five minutes just to have a drink and for you to—’

  ‘To what?’ Her tone was scornful, harsh even, and as John pulled back from her, she felt a sudden stab of regret. ‘Honestly, I’m fine. There’s nothing I can do about it and they’ve been on the verge for a while. I don’t know why I’m so surprised.’

  ‘Because it’s your parents,’ Macie said, aghast. ‘It’s like someone suddenly saying a universal truth isn’t universal anymore. Like them changing their minds that the Earth is called Earth or something.’

  Hetty pressed her lips together. ‘I really am fine. Now, let’s get on.’ Her parents would be the talk of the town. Still, it might take the heat off the Thornhills for a while, she thought sardonically. Hetty pulled herself together though she found it difficult under John’s fretful gaze. ‘Right, I need to get on and, John, I’m sure you have stuff to be getting on with too.’

  ‘It’s fine, if you need me—’

  ‘I don’t need anyone,’ she said quickly, then wondered where on earth it had come from. ‘Guys, honestly, I’m fine. Please stop fussing around me. I just need to work.’ She marched away without looking back, worried that John might be watching her. Again, she ignored the growing feeling inside: that she’d let him down.

  An hour later, Hetty had sent Macie to the parking field to check everything was fine there. She couldn’t handle any more sympathetic glances or her asking if she was okay every five minutes. Feigning this level of cheerfulness was draining enough without Macie adding to it.

  Hetty made her way around the food stalls in the lower field trying to decide what to have for dinner. She didn’t really care and had lost her appetite completely. She would have quite happily eaten a stale sandwich and cold tea, sure she wouldn’t be able to taste anything. All her senses had dulled since her mum’s call and despite her best efforts, she couldn’t stop thinking about her poor dad. He’d been devastated when Daisy had moved out. Who knew what state he’d be in now, knowing it was definitely over and she was never coming back? A stinging at the back of her eyes meant tears were threatening. Hetty took a long, deep breath and walked on. Somehow, she’d gravitated to Ben’s stall. The old, familiar comfort of his presence helped calm her a little. He’d be as surprised as everyone else when he heard about the divorce.

  ‘Come on, you lot, you know this is the best bread in town. And once it’s gone it’s gone so if you want to buy two, even three loaves, I’d do it now.’ A large crowd had gathered around him, which pleased the deli stall next door as they were getting a lot of add-on trade. ‘Did you know you can freeze them?’ Ben continued, smiling at everyone. ‘Oh, you’d like three of these would you, madam? All I can say is you have excellent taste.’ Hetty watched on from the corner. Once the crowd had disappeared, he spotted her. ‘Hey, Hetty. You okay? You look a bit stressed. That John Thornhill boring you to death going on about his grand house and shooting parties and all that sort of stuff, is he?’

  ‘You shouldn’t say things like that, Ben. John’s not like that—’

  ‘Oh, so it’s John now, is it?’ He was teasing but there was a pinch at the corners of his eyes.

  ‘Not now, Ben, please.’ Hetty rubbed her forehead. Her brain felt like it was pushing against her skull. ‘He’s actually okay.’

  ‘That’s not what I’ve heard, and I’ve heard a lot.’

  ‘Well, he is actually.’ An unreadable emotion passed over Ben’s eyes but was gone in a second. She knew it couldn’t be jealousy. Ben had never been the jealous type. ‘And you shouldn’t listen to gossip.’

  ‘Why not?’ He wrapped a loaf of bread and handed it to a customer with a wink. Hetty marvelled at his ability to make someone feel special and like the only person in the world – the centre of all his attention. ‘Sometimes gossip’s gossip for a reason: because it’s true. I heard his dad’s gone loopy-loo and his mum’s become a shut-in.’ Hetty knew Ben was joking but knowing how his words would hurt John hurt her too. A profound respect for John had been growing steadily in her since their first meeting. She was also a little shocked at Ben. He’d never been this callous when they were together.

  ‘Ben, please. I know you think you’re being funny, but it’s really not a laughing matter.’

  ‘Come on, Hetty. Where’s your sense of humour?’ Hetty pressed her temples, feeling a stress headache mounting. Suddenly concerned, he walked towards her and placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘Hey, what is it? Come here.’ He pulled her away from the stall and into an embrace. She collapsed into him, the smell of his T-shirt soothing her aching head. ‘Where’s the bubbly little firecracker I’m used to? What’s up?’ He stepped back and dipped his head to make eye contact.

  Hetty squeezed her eyes shut, trying to drive away the pain in her head. ‘Mum rang this morning.’

  ‘Daisy-doo? What’s she stressing about now?’

  She’d forgotten that he called her mum Daisy-doo. Her mum had loved Ben from the start, he’d fitted so seamlessly into their family dynamic with his easy friendliness. Would John fit in? she wondered and banished the thought. It’s not like he’d ever meet them and be a part of her family. ‘Mum and Dad are getting divorced,’ she said for the second time that day. And as the words came out of her mouth she felt a tearing in her soul.

  ‘What? Why? When did this happen?’

  Hetty shook her head trying to order her thoughts. ‘They’ve been struggling since they both retired. It’s like, now they’re actually spending time together, they’ve suddenly discovered they don’t like each other very much. Mum moved out a couple of weeks ago.’ She didn’t mention the supposed affair.

  ‘I can’t believe it. I’d have never pegged your folks as splitters. I’m sorry, Hetty. That’s tough.’

  As unhelpful as that response was, Ben had always been easy to talk to and now she’d started, she was finding it hard to stop. ‘But something about it just doesn’t sit right, you know?’ Ben gazed back unsure what to say. ‘I just know that deep down it’s not what they want. Mum’s voice was all shaky, like she wasn’t sure herself but – oh, I don’t know. Dad’s a mess.’

  Ben shrugged. ‘Let me give you another squeeze.’ He did and Hetty felt a few of her troubles slide away. ‘How about tomorrow night, for this film thing, we have a picnic? It’ll cheer you up. Besides, I’ve got something for you.’

  ‘Urgh, can’t you give it to me now? I don’t want any more surprises, Ben.’

  ‘No. I want to tell you tomorrow when we’re sitting on a picnic blanket under the stars.’ He moved his hand in a semicircle against the bright blue sky for dramatic effect.

  ‘Okay,’ Hetty agreed. There was no point arguing and she didn’t want to rain on his parade. ‘Have you got any of your olive and sundried tomato bread?’

  ‘Sure.’ He grabbed her one and wrapped it before handing it over. ‘I’ll meet you here at six tomorrow, ready for the film night.’

  ‘Okay,’ she agreed, only half listening. Her thoughts were a muddle, punctured here and there by images of her mum and dad and, surprisingly, John Thornhill’s concerned face. ‘Do I need to bring anything?’

  ‘Nope. I’ve got it covered. Just bring your gorgeous self.’

  She tried to focus on the next thing on her to-do list but a niggling in the back of her mind told her that she was right about her mum and dad. Deep down, she knew they still loved each other, if only she could think of a way for them to see it too. But as her heart sank deep within her chest, she worried that it was all just too little, too late.

  Chapter 21

  After a long day at the festival, Hetty sat in her garden, throwing pieces of bread to Stanley and desperately trying to relax. She’d hoped that sheer exhaustion would force her mind into some kind of meaningless white noise, but it hadn’t yet slowed down. In fact, it had sped up. So as well as thinking about Ben and the surprise he had for he
r tomorrow, her parents’ shenanigans, and everything she had to do the next day, she kept seeing John Thornhill’s anxious face, watching her as she took her phone call. His concern for her had been overpowering in its intensity. Not intense in that he’d gone on and on, wanting to know what had transpired, but his alarmed expression had caused a worrisome stirring inside her. She’d again felt guilty, like she’d let him down somehow by making him concerned for her. He had enough troubles of his own to think about.

  ‘What have we got on tomorrow, Stanley, do you think, hey? What’s first on our to-do list, my limpy seagull friend?’

  Stanley hopped about, pecking at the pieces of bread she threw down for him.

  ‘Site check first thing, of course, then we should probably take a look at some of the stalls we didn’t get a chance to today.’ She was saying ‘we’ and on any other occasion she’d mean Macie, but in the back of her mind, she saw herself wandering about with John, laughing and joking. She shook her head to shake his lingering shadow away. ‘Gwen seemed happy, didn’t she? I’m really glad we could get her involved. Do you know, Stanley Seagull, I think her dislike of the festival was simply down to the fact that she and the others put in the work to organise it and everyone thought it was a joke. I’d be quite cheesed off if that was me too, wouldn’t you?’

  Stanley looked up from his bread and cocked his head to one side as if considering his response.

  ‘What? John would probably say something clever about getting people onside and bringing people together.’ She took a deep breath in, the smell of next door’s honeysuckle drifting on the breeze. Closing her eyes, she listened to the sea, enjoying the serenity after such a busy day and with the prospect of more busy days to come. Hetty grabbed her glass and took a sip of the cold, crisp wine. It slid slowly down her throat and as it hit her stomach, she relaxed a little more. Staring at her single wine glass she imagined John sitting with her, smiling as she chatted away, them both throwing food to Stanley. She could imagine him enjoying the peace of the seaside cottage, the sense of being closed off from the world that she enjoyed so often here. John’s voice seemed to penetrate her thoughts, replaying conversations they’d had through the day, and their trip the fair.