by Katie Ginger
As it neared lunchtime, and they came back to the lower field filled with food stalls, Hetty was just treating them to a locally made pie when John said, ‘Ah, that’s my brother,’ and broke away to meet him. Hetty held back, not wanting to intrude on a family moment, particularly as the brother had been the cause of John’s mood the other day. But then John turned and ushered her forward too. When Hetty saw Jaz with them, she anticipated another odd exchange.
‘Felix, thanks for stopping by.’ Though he smiled, John’s tone was reserved. He reached an arm around the woman next to Felix – presumably John’s sister-in-law – giving her a kiss on the cheek and in an easy voice said, ‘Lizzy, how are you?’
‘Oh, fine, John. Fine. This is all marvellous. Amazing! I can’t believe how much you guys have achieved. It’s so lovely to see the town all coming together like this and celebrating everything we make and do.’ Hetty liked Lizzy immediately.
‘It is, isn’t it?’ he replied, ruffling the hair of the pretty identical twin girls.
‘Uncle John!’ they protested, and John simply smiled at them as they batted his hand away.
Hetty studied the family dynamic with interest. They were both clearly keeping up appearances, the body language between the two men tense and forced. Felix was a paler, weaker-looking version of his brother. Smaller in stature and bearing with a weak, hardly-there chin. John had clearly inherited all the burly good looks. As suspected, Jaz wasn’t happy to see John had been with her and though Jaz hung back, Hetty could feel the glances that came her way.
‘So, welcome to Swallowtail Bay Food Festival.’ He gestured around him. ‘What do you think, Felix?’
‘Very impressive,’ Felix begrudgingly replied, and Elizabeth bashed him on the arm.
‘It’s better than impressive. It’s …’ Her eyes were bright with enthusiasm. ‘Remarkable.’
‘I can’t take any credit as you know. It’s all down to Hetty here. Hetty, this is my brother Felix, his wife Elizabeth and my nieces Louise and Rachel. Jaz you’ve already met.’
‘Hello, everyone,’ Hetty replied with a slight nod of her head. Boy, was she glad of the large sunglasses given the dark circles she was currently sporting under her eyes.
John led them to where the first band were playing to a decent-sized crowd. People gathered, sipping drinks from takeaway cups or plastic glasses, and resting on the hay bales. The buzz was exactly the same as Hetty remembered it as a child. The two girls, Louise and Rachel, began to dance to the music. Three women danced with their children, throwing some serious moves, and Hetty and John shared a smile. At least they were enjoying themselves, Hetty thought and she had bandages in the emergency box if they needed them. Macie came and stood by her.
‘That one looks like she’s going to do herself a mischief,’ she whispered to Hetty, pointing to a woman throwing some serious shapes.
‘She has some moves,’ Hetty replied.
John was still talking and beside him Jaz was quiet but hanging on his every word. Hetty decided that as much as she wanted to stay with John, it was time to catch up with Macie and crack on with judging for the awards. ‘Have you got the judging sheets, Macie?’
‘Yep,’ she replied, unclipping the top of her clipboard and pulling out two pieces of paper. ‘One for you, one for John.’
‘Brilliant, we’ll leave him to do his alone and get cracking. John? Sorry for interrupting but can I just give you your judging sheet? I need it by the end of the day.’ She stepped nearer to hand him the paper and received a daggers stare from Jaz for daring to interrupt.
‘Okay. Where are you going?’
‘I’m going to go and get started.’
‘Well …’ he hesitated. ‘Why don’t we go together? I’m sure Felix and Lizzy want to go off and explore the rest of the festival.’
Jaz’s face fell as John made no mention of her and Hetty felt for her, even though she was now looking like she wanted to murder Hetty. It had been another brilliant pleasant morning in John’s company and she’d even forgotten about her parents for a while. Ignoring Macie’s raised eyebrows, Hetty didn’t hesitate in her reply. ‘Okay.’
John said goodbye to his brother and sister-in-law. ‘Jaz, you should take some time to enjoy the festival too.’
‘That’s fine,’ she said, her voice taut. ‘I’d rather head back to the house. I’ve got a lot of work to do.’
‘Don’t work too hard,’ he called after her as she stalked off. Hetty wondered if she should mention that it was clear to everyone but him that Jaz had a crush, but decided it would be too difficult and awkward, especially given how she felt about him. ‘So, who’s first?’
‘First we’ve got the Baker of the Bay award.’ She wanted to get that one over and done with first. With her heart and head a confused muddle of emotions she was desperately trying to ignore, it was better to have the time when John and Ben would be together over and done with.
‘Sounds great,’ said John. ‘Am I going to be as stuffed as I was when we went around and convinced them all to sign up for the festival?’
‘I think so,’ Hetty replied with a smile, remembering that afternoon.
As they approached Ben’s stall, John was quick to notice how busy he was. ‘Wow. He’s very popular, isn’t he?’ Hetty nodded and lingered by the side of the pitch.
‘Hey, gorgeous,’ Ben called when he noticed her.
Not wanting him to make some comment about their relationship in front of John, she quickly responded. ‘Hi, Ben. We’re here to taste your entry for the Baker of the Bay award. We’re doing the judging today.’
His face clouded when he saw John, but he was soon back to his normal, cheerful self. ‘Sure thing. Let me get you some samples.’ He grabbed a fresh olive and sundried tomato loaf and cut two thick wedges. Placing them on a paper plate with a tiny ramekin of freshly poured olive oil, he brought it over. ‘Here you are. The best olive and sundried tomato bread you’ll find outside of Italy itself.’
‘You’re very confident,’ John commented. Having grown to know him, Hetty could tell he was being friendly, but Ben didn’t take it that way. The crow’s feet at the corner of his eyes tightened and his jaw clenched. Ben’s usual confidence overrode his annoyance.
‘A fact’s a fact, mate. Or should I call you Lord?’
Hetty narrowed her eyes at Ben. This wasn’t like him. Why was he being so weird with John? Hetty knew full well if she was with Bob from the business forum, he wouldn’t be so argumentative. ‘Oh, Ben, sorry, I haven’t introduced you properly. You remember John Thornhill. John, this is—’
‘Nice to meet you, Johnny,’ Ben replied, sticking out his hand.
John took it politely. ‘How do you do?’
‘So, is it?’
‘Is it what?’ Hetty replied, getting a little annoyed with him.
‘Lord,’ he said, staring at John.
‘No, it’s just John.’ He popped some of the bread into his mouth. As he chewed, Hetty watched his eyes widen as he tasted the flavours Hetty loved so much. ‘Wow, this is amazing.’
‘Told you,’ Ben said gleefully. ‘It’s Hetty’s favourite.’
John looked over and Hetty nodded her agreement, feeling her cheeks burn. ‘Thanks, Ben. We’ve got to move on to the next one now.’ With what she hoped was a normal smile, she hurried John away but was aware of Ben watching them as they went. She tried to study his reflection in on-coming sunglasses like she’d seen in the movies, but it was too difficult to make out anything and she was too afraid to turn around and look back at him.
After they’d tasted the rest of the entries for Baker of the Bay, the next stop was at the chocolatier’s stall as they moved on to the Maker of the Bay awards. They’d been surprisingly in tune in their opinions though she wouldn’t let John tell her for certain who he was voting for.
Hetty scowled as she approached the chocolatier’s stall despite it being one of the prettiest with the fairy lights and mouth-watering chocolates. Macie was the
re, flirting like her life depended on it.
‘Hello, you,’ Hetty said, as she and John approached.
‘Hey, yourself,’ Macie replied with a grin and chocolate on her chin. It seemed she was up to her usual tricks.
‘Enjoying yourself?’ Hetty joked with a slight widening of her eyes.
‘Just checking that James is okay.’ A faint blush coloured her cheeks obscuring the sprinkling of freckles Hetty thought so pretty.
‘James,’ said John, stepping forward to shake his hand. Macie stood to the side. ‘We’re here to taste your entry for the Maker of the Bay award. What have you got for us?’
The tall, handsome chocolatier gave Macie an almost shy glance and picked up a plate. With tiny metal tongs he put two small balls of chocolate on a plate and offered it to John. ‘This is one of my favourite flavour combinations. It may sound a bit odd, but it works really well. It’s a blackberry and meringue truffle.’
Hetty’s mouth was already watering and she and John popped them into their mouths at the same time, while looking at each other. It was a strangely intimate moment and one that made the hairs on the back of her neck raise. Normally when she ate chocolate, really good quality chocolate like this was, she closed her eyes and savoured the flavours, but she couldn’t bring her eyes away from John’s face. Every inch of her body came alive as she watched him. Like the sun had set her on fire.
Once she’d swallowed and the out-of-body experience ended, Hetty hoped the rest of the afternoon’s entries were going to be rubbish because if John carried on doing things like that, she was in real danger of letting her untrustworthy heart run away with her. Her brain could go hang.
Chapter 24
Luckily, some of the other awards entries were pretty average, so Hetty made it through without her body and heart doing things her brain didn’t approve of.
As the late afternoon sun began to hang heavier in the sky, Hetty took a moment to appreciate the day. The second day of the festival had gone well. Really well. So well in fact, that she grew more and more nervous of what was going to go wrong. As she’d said to John that morning, something always did. That was how events happened. The disconcerting thing was, not having run a food festival before, she didn’t know what it might be. Though there were some clouds here and there in the sky, they were white and fluffy with no hint of grey, so rain was unlikely, but she couldn’t shake the horrible feeling that something would go wrong soon.
She was right.
About six o’clock, as the brightness of the day was replaced by a warming golden light, and people made themselves comfortable for the movie, Hetty heard raised voices from one of the fields. Making her way over, she spotted two men on the verge of a fight. They were squaring up to each other and looked like two puffed-up peacocks. At first, she thought it was a joke, but then she heard the language and, with children nearby, knew she had to put a stop to it immediately.
Marching straight into the middle of them despite the threat of a wallop, she placed her hands on her hips and looked them both squarely in the face. ‘What on earth do you two think you’re doing? And the language coming from you two – in front of children, I might add – would shock anyone. This is completely unacceptable. If you two can’t behave yourselves, you’ll have to pack up and go home.’
One had the good grace to blush, but the other raised his chin defiantly and brushed his comb-over back the right way. They weren’t people Hetty recognised from the bay which meant they were both traders from nearby villages.
‘He,’ said Comb-over, jabbing his finger in the direction of the other man, ‘has been undermining my prices all day—’
‘Only because you have too,’ the blushing one interrupted. ‘Every time I called out a price for my gooseberries you changed yours and called out one that was ten pence lower!’
‘Outrageous!’ Comb-over replied. ‘You started it all by under-cutting my nectarines.’
‘Huh! I think you’ll find you started all this by commenting on the size of my moolis.’
A sudden thought occurred to Hetty that made her smile. There was nothing in the emergency box to help with this situation and for that, John would tease her. He’d laugh when she told him about this, and then, again, she realised he was popping into her head all the time. Right now, she couldn’t decide if she was looking forward to seeing Ben tonight for the picnic or not. She didn’t particularly enjoy secrets or surprises and finally discovering whatever it was would be another weight off her mind. For now, she had two disgruntled punters to deal with.
‘Right,’ she said, turning her head to look from one to the other. ‘First of all, you can both come and stand here so I can see both your faces at the same time. I’m not an owl—’
‘Hang on a sec,’ Comb-over interrupted, but Hetty glared at him and he soon shut his mouth, moving to the ground in front of her she was pointing at.
‘Secondly, are you going to start behaving yourselves? How do you think this reflects on your businesses let alone my food festival? Do you think people are going to flock to your stalls after creating this sort of reputation for yourselves? Hmm?’ Both traders glanced at each other then looked away, back to Hetty. ‘I don’t want to kick you out, but I will if I have too.’
‘That won’t be necessary,’ the blushing one said.
‘Good. From tomorrow, I’m going to move one of you to the other end of the field so you can’t start a fight and swear in front of children. You should both be thoroughly ashamed of yourselves.’ Both traders dropped their eyes to the ground, suitably chastised. ‘Thirdly, why don’t you both go and have a drink in the beer tent and discuss sensibly, like adults, what you’ll charge for the last day of the festival because if I have any of this sort of nonsense tomorrow, I really won’t hesitate in coming over and packing up your stalls myself.’
With mumbles and nodding heads, they began to clear up, and Hetty left them to it. She’d tell Macie to keep an eye on them tomorrow and the thought of Macie dealing with them brought a huge grin to her face. If they thought she was bad, Macie was even worse. They’d once run an event at the local private school and the snooty headmaster had made a snide comment about canapes. Macie had soon put him straight and the poor chap had been too embarrassed to look at her for the rest of the night.
Amid a slow and gentle breeze from the sea, the sun finished its lazy fall and lit the evening sky with a deep burnt-orange hue. After the incident there’d been a few hours of quiet as those who weren’t staying for the film screening left, but the funfair had decided to stay open and the place was still packed. In front of the large screen, families, friends and loved-up couples were busy setting out picnic blankets, arranging and sharing food, and popping open bottles of fizz. Casting an eagle eye around, Hetty could see that many of the bottles and much of the food had been bought from vendors at the festival and a contented smile spread over her face – one that grew even wider when she saw John approaching with a picnic basket.
‘Hi,’ she said, hoping that he would invite her to sit with him, even though she knew she couldn’t accept.
‘How was your afternoon?’ If he was asking that, he clearly hadn’t heard about the fight. Hetty was secretly pleased – she’d been looking forward to telling him herself. She liked the idea of making him laugh.
‘You know I said that I couldn’t imagine what else might happen?’
‘Yes,’ he replied, hesitantly.
‘You won’t believe the problem I had to deal with this afternoon.’
Hetty told John and before long his heavy, deep laugh was surrounding her, lifting her mood. She found the way his eyes scrunched up at the corners particularly attractive. When she’d first met him, she’d wondered if he ever laughed and couldn’t imagine him being silly or joking around, but now she knew better. His face had relaxed as she’d told him the story, breaking into a sexy smile.
When they’d settled down and stopped giggling, she motioned to the picnic basket, secretly wondering who h
e was eating with. ‘Are you staying for the film night?’
‘Yes, I am. I wondered if you—’
Suddenly Ben was beside her, an arm sliding around her waist. ‘Hey, Hetty. You ready?’ He jiggled a hessian bag that she could see contained a bottle of champagne, some pots of olives, bread and cheese. She could even spy paper plates and plastic cutlery.
Hetty’s heart stilled. ‘Ben, hi. Umm, yeah.’ Ben gave John a confident – possibly too confident – grin. It wasn’t his usual easy smile. It was almost smug.
‘Johnny, you sticking around for the film too? Slummin’ it with the riffraff?’ Internally, Hetty rolled her eyes. After all these years he still hadn’t learned to turn his teasing off when the occasion called for it. ‘It’s going to be a nice evening, I reckon. Even better as Hetty here is going to join me.’ He gave Hetty’s waist a squeeze.
‘Yes, I was planning to.’ A look of sadness passed over John’s eyes. Had it been her he was going to invite to join him? No, surely not.
‘Shall we grab a spot, Hetty? I’ve been looking forward to this all day.’ Ben dropped his hand from her waist and marched off on his own. Words formed in her brain asking John to join them. She didn’t want him to leave, but there was nothing she could do. ‘Come on, Hetty,’ called Ben again, unfurling a picnic blanket and laying it on the floor.
She turned back to John. ‘Maybe I’ll see you later.’
As she went to follow Ben, a sharp pain stabbed in her chest. She really did like John more than she should and being with Ben now filled her with guilt. She couldn’t stop her head turning to glance over her shoulder and see John still standing there. She caught his eye and he gave a small smile then dropped his eyes away. Yet again she felt she’d let him down, hurt him even, and she hated it.
Hetty sat down with Ben on the thick chequered rug, feeling the coarse fibres beneath her fingers. He pulled the tubs out of the bag then laid out different types of bread. He’d gone to a lot of trouble but Hetty couldn’t enjoy it as much as she wanted to. She’d felt terrible leaving John standing there alone in the middle of the field. Hetty’s throat tightened, stuck with remorse. When she peeked again, he was talking to Jaz, and she felt her brows knit together as he sat down with her. The pop of a bottle forced her head to turn and Ben handed her a glass.
