Summer Strawberries at Swallowtail Bay

by Katie Ginger

  ‘Well,’ said Mrs Bates, ‘as soon as you’ve got through it you must come into town again and see us at the library. I’ve been keeping a list of books I think you’ll enjoy.’

  ‘Have you?’ she asked, taken aback.

  ‘Of course, dear.’ Mrs Bates patted her gently on the elbow. ‘Oh, I’m so glad I came back again today. I only came for more of those marvellous local pies that young man is selling. And to be in Thornhill Hall! What a treat!’ The old woman appeared ten years younger with the excitement.

  ‘You have a beautiful home, Mrs Thornhill,’ Hetty said. ‘When was it originally built?’

  ‘Oh, the main part of the house was built in …’

  As Lucinda began to explain to Hetty and Mrs Bates about the history of the house, a subject on which she seemed very passionate, many of the wet, bedraggled crowd flocked over to listen. Hetty made sure to keep eye contact with Lucinda who, though starting off nervously with a wavering voice, soon fell into a confident stride. She didn’t seem to notice the large group now surrounding them.

  ‘Perhaps you’d like to show our guests around the rest of the house, Mother?’ John asked. ‘Give them a tour? I’m sure they’d enjoy knowing more about our resident ghost.’

  Murmurs of appreciation from the crowd surrounded them and Lucinda, who studied Hetty and John with a strange knowing expression, nodded. As she began the tour, pointing at a large elegant portrait in the hallway, she added in stories of the ancestors who’d bought the house and what they knew of before then. She was a natural and likeable tour-guide, Hetty thought, but as the group moved on, she remained behind to speak to John.

  ‘Your mum’s a natural.’

  John observed her with pride. ‘She used to be very confident and outgoing before everything happened. Father too. I’m just hoping this’ll remind her of that. We might have no choice but to open the house to visitors from now on.’

  Seeing his darkened expression, Hetty asked, ‘Has something else happened?’

  John sighed and shook off his wet coat, hanging it on a tall coatstand in the corner. Hetty edged off her flimsy pac-a-mac and as John took it from her, she was touched by the gentlemanly gesture. ‘Come into the study, where we can talk in private. I’m just going to ask Jaz to start another tour in a few minutes’ time with the people in the parlour.’

  ‘That’s a great idea.’ Hetty waved at Macie then pointed to the study door to let her know where she was going. After speaking to Jaz, he dashed back and held the door open for her, ushering her through first.

  Just over a month had passed since she had first sat in the chair opposite his desk, when the idea of the festival was so fresh and exciting. Hetty stared out of the window watching the rain hit the long creeping vines of wisteria, knocking them to and fro. John had saved her today and for that she would always be grateful. He sat down and pushed some papers to the side.

  It seemed to take all his energy to move them and Hetty noticed how messy his desk was. Knowing him as she did, she realised it wasn’t like her organised chaos, but more a reflection of how in disarray his life was, heightening her concern. He sighed before saying, ‘I’m sure you’ve been wondering what’s going on. My brother, Felix, took all the money we had left and made a stupid investment, against my wishes. He thought it would offer quick returns, but the shares have gone further and further down instead of up as he was expecting. Now it’s going to take such a long time for them to rise we’re not going to make nearly as much as money as he hoped and the money will be tied up for longer as we wait for their value to increase enough to even consider selling them. We might not make any money at all.’

  Hetty took off her glasses to dry them. ‘I thought investments and shares were a long-term thing?’

  ‘Felix thought he could do what’s called timing the market. One of his friends had told him that he could invest in something now when the share price was low because it was expected to shoot up in value. When it did, he’d sell and make money for the family – potentially a lot of money – but it’s gone the wrong way. The share price has fallen massively. If we sell now, we’ll make a huge loss and if we wait for the price to come back up—’

  ‘You still haven’t got the money you need to run the house.’

  ‘No.’ He ran his hand over his beard then sighed heavily. ‘I applied for a loan but the bank’s unlikely to approve that now, and the bailiffs are coming.’

  ‘So, what can you do?’ Hetty asked, popping her glasses back on. As shocked as she was, she knew it wouldn’t help John to see it.

  ‘I need to come up with ideas we can implement quickly that’ll give us some money each month.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ He picked up a piece of paper with squiggles and circles on it then tossed it to one side. ‘I’ve worked through so many different options but they’re all far too big for us right now. Apart from opening up the house I’m out of ideas.’

  ‘Do you mind?’ Hetty asked, picking up the piece of paper. He shook his head as she read through the jottings. He’d been brainstorming. Some ideas were good but required long-term business plans. There was nothing short term and immediate, nothing to give returns straight away. ‘I think opening the house is a good idea. And the gardens too. Your other plans are good ones but like you say, they’re long-term solutions. If you opened up the house and charged a small entrance fee, I think you’d get a lot of people coming in.’ Hetty adjusted her glasses, thinking. ‘And we could hold the food festival here again next year but that’s a long-term solution too. I’ll have a think about it and let you know if I come up with any other ideas. There’s got to be something.’

  ‘Thanks, I appreciate it.’ John sat back, and in the silence, they listened to the rain hammering against the window pane. It was still coming down heavily and the sky outside was a sheet of steel-grey cloud. ‘So, your turn. How are you about your parents?’

  ‘Fine,’ she said a little too quickly. He raised one eyebrow. ‘I wouldn’t want to bore you with all the details.’ In reality, the festival wasn’t over and she’d promised herself the box of feelings would stay shut until it was.

  ‘It won’t bore me. And besides, I’ve told you about my family’s possible financial ruin. And it’s still raining. What else are we going to talk about?’ Hetty pursed her lips, trying not to smile, but she felt a sense of comfort in his company. ‘Are you okay? I can at least ask that.’

  Despite all her efforts, she couldn’t help confiding in him. ‘Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just a bit worried – about my parents that is.’ She glanced at his concerned face and decided to press on. ‘The crux of it is that my mum thinks my dad’s been having an affair and I’m absolutely sure he hasn’t. The trouble is, she won’t tell me what her suspicions are so I can’t disprove them. But when I mentioned our neighbour taking Dad some food, she got all jealous and put-out about it. She wouldn’t if she didn’t care, would she?’ It felt good to be talking it out and not bottling things up. ‘They’ve been married for such a long time and have always been happy. Up until they retired last year. Since then they’ve just been annoying each other, and I think they need to get some perspective – some space – but not like separated space – just—’

  ‘To find themselves again?’

  ‘Yes!’ Hetty exclaimed. ‘They just need to connect and stop annoying each other all the time. I love Macie to bits, but she annoys me when we’re together 24/7 and I know I annoy her. I think that’s why Dad’s become golf-obsessed and Mum needs to stop sitting in the house waiting for him to notice her again.’

  ‘So how can you get them to do that?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ She sighed, shrugging.

  ‘What do they both love?’

  ‘Nothing. The only thing they have in common is me.’ The strong wind had begun to blow the darker clouds away, and a tiny patch of blue appeared on the horizon filling Hetty with hope. ‘Look,’ she said to John, pointing out of the window. ‘We should be
able to get the food festival back on track soon, I think.’

  ‘Now, there’s an idea.’ John sat back and tapped his index finger on the desk matching the rhythm of the slowing rain.

  ‘What is?’ John’s eyes were a bright, clear blue.

  ‘Why not invite your parents here for an afternoon tea? Sometimes being somewhere else stops you thinking about all the boring, everyday things and lets you talk about the big stuff, remember what it’s like to be with someone. Remember who they are. We can get supplies from the stall holders and set them up in the secret garden.’

  ‘The secret garden?’ Hetty asked incredulous. ‘You have a secret garden?’

  ‘We do.’

  ‘A resident ghost and a secret garden. Wow. Where is it?’

  ‘I can’t tell you, it’s secret.’ Hetty narrowed her eyes at him and he laughed. ‘It’s at the back of the house. My father hides there quite a lot. What do you think?’

  After a moment’s thought Hetty beamed. ‘I think it’s a great idea. I’ll call them now. Get them to come up this afternoon about four. Actually, I’ll ring Mum and Macie can ring my dad. It’s probably best to keep this a surprise until the very last minute so neither of them can back out.’

  ‘I’ll head outside and give you some peace. I think I can hear the tour party coming back.’

  Hetty pulled her phone from her back pocket and unable to stop herself, admired his strong, solid frame as he left. Her mum was surprised to hear from her. She was even more surprised when Hetty invited her to a picnic at Thornhill Hall. She didn’t mention the secret garden or her dad coming too, and her mum was quick to agree, excited to see the largest event her daughter had organised so far. With a little more hope than she’d felt for the last few days, Hetty went back into the grand hallway to get Macie to call her dad and saw John staring up at his mother who was descending the stairs, speaking confidently to the crowd behind her. When they reached the bottom, Lucinda ended her talk and everyone clapped and thanked her.

  ‘The rain’s easing off, everyone,’ Hetty said. ‘Shall we make our way back to the stalls? It’s the first Swallowtail Bay Food Festival awards this afternoon – our Taste of the Bay awards! I really hope you’ll stay for those.’

  As Hetty began to usher them outside she saw a smile light Lucinda’s face as John hugged her. If there was any luck in the world, this would be the start of something good and hopeful for John and his family. They deserved a break.

  The last one to leave, Hetty closed the door behind her, leaving them in peace.

  Chapter 29

  The odd drop of rain still fell, and one caught Hetty on the forehead. The smell of wet grass rose up from under her spotty trainers. She had her wellies in the car but what was the point of getting them now? Her toes were already cold and wet.

  With a quick backwards glance towards Thornhill Hall, Hetty continued towards the vendors. They weren’t too badly off schedule for the awards and with Macie’s help they’d gather everyone together ready to give out the rosettes. As soon as the awards were over, Hetty could gather up a picnic and find John or Jaz to show her where the secret garden was. Crowds began to linger at stalls again and the air filled once more with noise. She’d give everyone fifteen minutes to get back to normal, then start their first awards ceremony.

  Hetty found Macie, as she had expected, at the chocolatier’s stall. ‘Shall I just get you a seat and plonk it here?’

  ‘Sorry,’ Macie replied, her freckles hidden again by a blush. Hetty smiled.

  ‘I’m only teasing, Macie. You’re amazing and magnificent and the best assistant in the entire world.’ Macie grinned back. ‘I’m going to get the rosettes from the car. Can you set up the lectern?’

  ‘Sure thing, dude.’

  ‘Dude? Have you been at the free wine samples again?’ Macie gave her a cheeky grin and headed off.

  Shaking her head, Hetty headed off to the car, passing Ben on the way. He was perched quite happily on a stool at the local brewery’s pitch. As usual he was talking away, cracking jokes and at ease in the company of these relative strangers. ‘So the gangster says to the bishop, “I told you if you twist it like that it’ll snap clean off.”’

  Giggles and guffaws exploded out and over them all Hetty heard Ben’s loud, expressive chuckle. Imagining his smile, a smile came to her lips too but soon she’d have to decide if her future lay with him or without him. As much as she liked John, he’d not given any sign that he felt the same away about her. Watching Ben now, Hetty wasn’t sure if she’d locked her feelings away because she had to focus on the festival, or if it was just easier than thinking about what felt right. Still laughing, Ben’s voice carried over again. ‘I told you it was a good one, didn’t I?’

  Hetty stuck her head into the tent. ‘Ben, we’re doing the awards now, okay?’

  ‘Hetty!’ he cried enthusiastically. ‘Come and have a drink with me.’

  ‘No thanks, Ben. I’m doing the awards now. You need to come.’ He slugged back some beer and nodded absent-mindedly, and she carried on to the car. It didn’t escape her notice that as she thought about Ben, the smile John had put there vanished from her face.

  When Hetty came back with her box of envelopes containing the winners’ names and the rosettes, Macie had set up the lectern in the area the bands used earlier, and a crowd was eagerly gathering. So many people had stayed wanting to know the results, it was a wonderful reminder of the closeness of the Swallowtail Bay community. On the sidelines she saw John, waiting to present the awards, chatting away to a man and a woman with bags full of shopping. He had his hands crossed over his chest looking almost forbidding, but then he threw his head back, laughing at something the man had said. Hetty’s heart flipped in her chest but she drew her eyes away and stood behind the lectern, ready to speak.

  ‘Hi, everyone, thank you so much for sticking with us through the rain. It’s now time for the first ever Taste of the Bay awards!’ There was a great big round of applause punctuated by an excited whoop from Macie. She’d definitely been at the wine stall, Hetty thought with a smile, but she deserved it for working her tail off all weekend. ‘And to present the awards we have the gorgeous – I mean generous John Thornhill.’

  Internally, Hetty screamed. Her face was on fire and the crowd in front of her were smirking. John was, of course, staring at her like she’d grown a second head. He was so shocked she couldn’t read any other emotions in his face. As he approached, Hetty stared at the collection of envelopes containing the winners’ names. She had to carry on. It was a slip of the tongue, nothing more. When John stood beside her, his shoulder brushed against hers and embarrassment gripped her once more. After handing over the envelopes, she shuffled over to where Macie was standing, grinning like a loon. ‘Don’t say a word.’

  ‘Wouldn’t dream of it,’ she replied. ‘But who needs to think before they speak?’

  The heat rose in her cheeks again. ‘Have you seen Ben?’

  ‘Still in the beer tent,’ Macie whispered.

  ‘What? But he’s won one of the awards, and I just told him to be here before I got the envelopes.’ She couldn’t believe he’d ignored her.

  John began speaking, introducing the first award and building the excitement. ‘I can’t tell you how excited I am to introduce our inaugural Taste of the Bay awards. The food was amazing, and it has been wonderful to see so many traders here to celebrate all Swallowtail Bay has to offer. Thank you to you all. When I was judging with Hetty’ – he looked over to her and Hetty couldn’t take her eyes away from his – ‘it was the best afternoon I’ve had in a long, long time. Truly wonderful.’

  Hetty’s heart was dancing in her chest. Could he really be implying what she thought he was? It was the first real sign that he felt the same way she did. John turned his eyes back to the crowd.

  ‘Even though this is a food festival, we’ve also got some non-food awards to give out too to celebrate all the fabulous businesses we’ve have in Swallowtail Bay. With t
hat in mind, our first award is the Business of the Bay award and I’m delighted to say the winner is …’ He opened the envelope. ‘Stella Harris and Old Herbert’s Shop.’

  Stella’s smile was wide and wonderful as she walked up to collect her rosette. Her stall at the festival had been packed with art and glass ornaments and forever crowded. There wasn’t really anywhere like it in the bay and she deserved to win.

  ‘What am I going to do about Ben?’ Hetty whispered to Macie, clapping as Stella walked back into the crowd, beaming from ear to ear.

  ‘You’ll have to accept the award on his behalf.’

  ‘Me? I can’t.’ Hetty kept her eyes pinned on the ground in front of her.

  ‘Why not?’

  Why not? Because it gave the wrong impression of her and Ben’s relationship? ‘I just can’t. Isn’t there time to go and get Ben?’ Macie shook her head and seeing Hetty’s concerned expression, treated the situation with the gravity it deserved.

  ‘Do you want me to do it?’ Macie asked Hetty.

  John was just building up to Baker of the Bay filling Hetty with terror. ‘What if I run and get Karen really quickly?’

  ‘There’s no time. Do you want me to go up?’

  ‘No, I suppose as organiser I should go for anyone who isn’t here.’ Even if it did give John the wrong impression of their relationship.

  The crowd applauded as John announced The Bake House and Hetty begrudgingly made her way to the front. Where was Ben? This was a big deal for her, he knew that. And it was a big deal for him too. Yes, his business was flying high and didn’t exactly need the accolade, but he should have been there to see if he’d won and to support her. If he’d really meant what he said last night, wouldn’t he have been there for her now, putting her first? His relaxed attitude meant he’d missed out on such a special moment – the culmination of Hetty’s hard work – and he’d put Hetty in an awkward position having to accept the award on his behalf. People might think they were back together. John too seemed unsure, glancing at her in confusion when she stepped up and thanked him. ‘Ben is indisposed, I’m afraid, but I’ll make sure the award is passed on to him.’