Chapter 30
The range is keeping us warm in the kitchen and I’ve found Christmas candles in the old box of decorations to put on the table.
The room is warm with the smell of the spices in the curry and the jacket potatoes in the oven.
Owen pours the wine into small water glasses I’ve found in the cupboard. Evie is finishing laying the table.
‘Shall I put this somewhere?’ She holds up the brown envelope Llew has left.
I take it from her and see on the back a handwritten note with a phone number, clearly in Llew’s handwriting. For the cattle-market lease, a name and number. I put the envelope on the shelf above the table and call through to everyone. ‘Dinner’s ready.’
The kitchen fills with warmth as we sip the wine and eat.
‘A perfect marriage!’ says Myfanwy.
‘We should make more of these. Maybe do a twist on them,’ says Mae. ‘Meat and veggie fillings.’
‘Using seasonal ingredients,’ I agree.
‘We’d need to find a supplier,’ she says.
‘We have all the room you’d need to grow stuff here,’ Dad joins in. ‘The kitchen garden is full to bursting,’ he says, clearly loving the company. ‘My father used to grow plenty for us. I have more than I need in the shed.’
‘Your father and my father,’ says Myfanwy, ‘would swap vegetables. Like a barter system.’
‘More like an arguing system.’ Dad laughs and so does she.
‘Silly old fool!’ They smile at each other warmly, which makes me feel warm too. Outside the snow is falling steadily, and I wish Llew was here with us, instead of on his way out of town for good.
‘If only we could have found a way to make the lorry more permanent,’ I say.
‘If only we could’ve found somewhere to park it, make it a regular feature,’ says Mae.
‘It’s a week until Christmas Eve,’ says Evie, thoughtfully.
I sigh, thinking about Llew and the cattle market. It’s not too late. They haven’t sold the lease yet. ‘What if …’
‘Yes?’
‘What if we could raise the money to buy the lease for the cattle market? Secure it for a year.’
They’re staring at me.
‘A full-time food-truck market, where we rent space to other providers. We make different things. People can eat what they want. Sit at tables together.’
‘We’d need separate food trucks!’ Mae laughs, making me laugh too.
‘We would. But imagine, we get more food trucks to help make it profitable and a permanent feature in the town.’
‘But how?’ Mae asks.
‘Llew suggested it.’
‘Llew?’ they all say.
‘Is he here?’ Mae wonders.
‘He brought the wine. He’s decided to leave his company.’ Dad looks concerned. ‘It’s okay, the offer still stands, Dad. He brought the signed documents. We have until the end of the year to decide.’
‘Shame he didn’t come in. Nice fellow,’ says Dad. ‘I like him.’
I can’t help but think that I totally agree.
I take a deep breath. Looks like the one good thing, right under my nose, was the one I let get away.
I wish with all my heart I’d said what I wanted to say.
But I can still feel him here, supporting the idea of the food market, telling me to go for it.
Telling me how I’d inspired him go for something he believes in.
All the time I’m considering the food-truck market, a little bit of him is still here, I think, taking some comfort from that.
‘He said he thought we should try to make a go of it.’
‘What? The cattle market?’ says Mae.
I nod.
‘But how would we get that kind of money?’
‘Well, I did have one idea. I’ve seen it done before when people want to raise money for the community.’ All eyes are on me. ‘What about a GoFundMe page?’
‘A what?’ asks Dad.
‘A GoFundMe page online. We ask people to contribute, like a collection, and give them something in return.’
‘Like what?’ asks Mae.
‘I’m not sure … free pies, or something.’
‘A Christmas event, for the community,’ says Myfanwy. ‘Give them a little Christmas spirit. It’s what this place has been lacking for a year, ever since the out-of-town stores moved in and people stopped seeing each other.’
‘Something like that, but we haven’t got long.
There’s someone interested in the cattle market already, as we know.
But’ – I turn to Dad – ‘it would mean, if we could make it into a profitable business, we wouldn’t have to sell Gramps’s field.
We could run the cattle market and turn it into a full-time business. ’
Dad gazes at me. Part of me wonders if he’ll tell me that selling off the land is the sensible option. I hold my breath.
Then, suddenly, he smiles. ‘We’d be daft not to try,’ he says, his eyes twinkly. ‘“Faint heart never won fair maiden!”’
‘But how?’ says Mae. ‘How would we do it?’
‘Well, we could do a food-truck fair somewhere else, show people what we’re trying to do.’
‘Yes,’ they all agree. ‘But where?’
None of us comes up with an answer. My phone pings and I look down at it.
Missing the cattle lorry. Best jacket potatoes around! someone has messaged.
Loved the shepherd’s pies! says another.
I pick up my phone and read out the messages.
‘We could speak to the cattle-market owners, see if they’ll let us do one night.
A Christmas food-truck fair there!’ I feel a growing excitement.
‘A gesture of goodwill. We ask local food producers to join us there for one evening. Ask for a donation for the pitch and explain we’re trying to make it a regular feature. A go-to destination for local food …’
We all look at each other, waiting for someone to say why it’s not a good idea.
No one speaks.
The tinsel and fairy lights glitter.
‘A Christmas fair on the cattle market to raise enough to get the lease …’
‘Before anyone else does! Or buys it!’
‘Or smothers it in solar panels,’ says Owen.
‘Affordable good food!’ says Mae.
‘A proper town Christmas fair,’ says Owen.
‘Perfect!’ says Dad, and smiles at Myfanwy. ‘But we haven’t got long. We need to get the word out, get the community behind us.’
‘What about … a tractor run?’ says Owen.
‘Oh, yes!’ say Myfanwy and Dad, beaming.
‘A what?’ Mae laughs.
I’m still scrolling through the pictures on my phone of the lunches in the cattle lorry at the market. I loved it.
‘All the farmers put lights on their tractors and drive through the villages and into the town and end up somewhere where there’s music and food. They carry buckets and raise money on the way,’ says Myfanwy. ‘We used to do it every Christmas. End up back at one of the farms. They were great fun!’
‘And think of the content for the socials,’ I say, still scrolling. ‘It would really get people talking about what we’re trying to do. But we do a GoFundMe page too, to raise the money and try to get the deposit together to buy the lease.’
‘Post your videos about why it’s important.’ Mae waggles a finger at my phone, making me laugh.
‘It’s brilliant,’ says Evie to Owen, leaning in and kissing him, him kissing her back. And we give a little cheer at the love these two have found in each other, and the glow in their cheeks.
And I can’t help but wish I’d found someone to share that spark with, and think I may have done.
He just isn’t here to share this moment with us.
I wish I’d been brave enough to tell him how I feel.
I wasn’t being brave with Matthew. I was playing it safe, like I have in my job all these years.
It’s time to throw caution to the snowy wind and see which way it takes me.
‘Just one thing. How are we going to get Deborah Atkins to agree to this?’ asks Dad.
The mood around the table dips.
‘He’s right. She was the one who threw us out. She’s not going to agree to us going back. She just wants to get the new clients to buy it.’
I look down at my phone. ‘I think,’ I say slowly, as the idea dawns on me, ‘I may just have a solution. Like you say, social media isn’t all bad.’