Chapter 16
CHAPTER 16
ANDY
A ndy trailed after the two women, glad that he was carrying the stack of cardboard boxes. They gave him something to hide his face behind. Not that he really needed to—Cath didn’t glance back at him once as they followed Annie down the hallway and through to the kitchen. He wondered if she was feeling as discombobulated as he was from Annie’s good-natured prodding.
Swallowing hard, Andy gave his head a little shake, trying to get his thoughts back in order. Today wasn’t the day for exploring what was—or wasn’t —there between them. Nor was it the day for awkward silences and longing glances. Cath had worked so hard to pull this event together in such a short amount of time, and there was no way a bit of good-natured town gossip was going to throw a spanner in the works… at least, not if he had anything to do with it!
‘Ah! The strawberry pickers!’ cheered Harold from his perch at the kitchen table.
Andy smiled at him over the boxes. ‘Present and correct.’
‘Wow, it looks different in here!’ said Cath staring around the kitchen.
Andy knew what she meant… something had definitely changed since their last visit. He just couldn’t put his finger on what.
‘No jam on show,’ said Annie, somewhat morosely. ‘We brought the car up last night while the high street was quiet and loaded it all up, ready to bring down to the Dolphin and Anchor for today’s stall.’
Andy nodded. Yep, that would explain it. There were several hundred jars missing and all the nooks and crannies were empty. The old dresser looked practically naked without them.
‘Thank you so much,’ said Cath. ‘It’s incredibly generous of you.’
‘Better that it all gets eaten,’ said Annie. ‘Besides, it gives me plenty of space to make some new batches.’
Andy had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop a hoot of laughter from escaping at the look of horror that had just crossed Harold’s face.
‘On that note,’ said Cath, ‘are you really sure you don’t mind us picking all your strawberries?’
‘We’re sure!’ said Harold quickly, widening his eyes as the horror in them intensified. He glanced down at the toast in front of him—smothered in strawberry jam—then back up to Cath with an air of pleading.
Andy snorted and quickly tried to pass it off as a sneeze.
‘Why?’ said Annie. ‘Don’t you need them? Because—’
‘We definitely need them!’ said Andy quickly, earning himself a grateful wink from Harold.
‘Well then, we don’t mind,’ said Annie. ‘We can’t let the town down at the last minute. Harold will just have to make do with something different on his toast.’
‘Maybe… some marmalade?’ said Harold hopefully.
It was Cath’s turn to bite her lip. She was clearly struggling to keep a straight face as much as he was.
‘If that’s what you’d like, my love, I’ll give it a go,’ said Annie, beaming at her husband, who looked like he was about to go into shock.
‘Shall we make a start?’ Andy said quietly to Cath.
There was something about the palpable devotion in the air that was making him feel weirdly emotional. He needed to get back outside in the fresh air and gather his wits.
‘Good idea,’ said Cath. ‘It’s going to take Fergus’s team ages to get them all washed and prepared… so we’d better get going!’
‘Start up at the top terrace,’ said Harold, ‘and work your way down. That way, by the time your back’s killing you from bending over, you won’t still be trekking all the way up the steps to the top.’
‘Roger that,’ said Andy, nodding his thanks.
‘I’ll grab the door!’ said Cath, dashing over to slide open the heavy French windows.
Andy waited for her to lead the way and then followed with the stack of boxes. He paused just outside to take a deep breath of fresh air.
‘You okay?’ said Cath, raising a quizzical eyebrow at him.
Andy nodded. ‘Just thinking what a perfect day it is for the event.’
It might have been a hastily concocted cover story for the fact that he was staring blankly up at the sky, but it was at least true. The high, scattered clouds were drifting lazily against a robin-egg sky. The breeze was light and fresh—perfect for staying cool without being enough to wreak havoc on any of the stalls.
Andy stooped to pop the stack of boxes down on the ground. ‘I vote we take one each, fill it, and then pile them up here as we go?’
‘Sounds like a plan,’ said Cath, grabbing one. ‘Race you!’
Andy smiled as she pelted off up the steep steps towards the top terrace. He blew out a sigh of relief as her playful attitude promptly melted the lingering awkwardness that had been threatening to body-snatched him.
Following at a slightly more leisurely pace, Andy admired the different levels of the garden as he climbed the steep steps. There were five levels in all, and other than a couple of brightly-coloured flower beds on the first terrace, the entire lot was set to strawberry plants, and all of them were dripping with fruit.
Considering how steep the garden was, it was a bit of a miracle that Harold managed to navigate it with his stick. It was evident that he spent a lot of time out there, though. Andy didn’t think he’d ever come across such pampered plants before. Their deep green leaves rested on a nest of golden straw—clearly there to keep the large, glossy berries out of the dirt and as far away from any rampaging slugs as possible.
‘They look a bit like jewels, don’t they?’ said Cath as he joined her on the top terrace.
‘I was just thinking that,’ said Andy. ‘Right… let’s see who can fill a box the fastest!’
The pair of them worked together in companionable silence, and by the time their boxes were full to overflowing, they seemed to have barely made a dent in what was on offer.
‘I’m glad we started early,’ said Cath, as they both carried their full loads down to the bottom, only to switch them out for empty boxes. ‘We could be here all day at this rate…’
‘We’ve got plenty of time, don’t worry,’ said Andy, shooting her a smile. ‘Besides, we’ll run out of boxes before then.’
‘Good point,’ said Cath with a grin. ‘In that case… I’m taking two up with me!’
By the time they’d cleared the top two terraces of juicy berries, Andy knew what Harold had been talking about when he’d mentioned a sore back. His thighs were burning from bending over so much too, and he was parched.
‘You know,’ said Cath, hefting her full boxes carefully into her arms, ‘I got a feeling I’m going to smell of strawberries for all eternity after this.’
‘I can think of worse things to smell of,’ said Andy, straightening up slowly and doing his best not to let out a weary groan.
‘I wonder if they taste as good as they smell,’ said Cath.
‘You’re kidding me!’ said Andy. ‘You’re not telling me you haven’t tried one yet?’
Cath shook her head. ‘Why—have you?’
‘Two for the box, one for Andy… two for the box… two for Andy!’ he laughed.
‘You gannet!’ chuckled Cath.
‘You’re missing out,’ said Andy. ‘Try one!’
‘I’ve kind of got my hands full here,’ said Cath.
Without thinking, Andy plucked the fattest, juiciest strawberry out of the boxes in her arms and held it up for her.
Cath stared at it for a long moment, then her eyes flicked to him, and then back to the strawberry. Just as Andy realised what a decidedly intimate position he’d managed to land them in, Cath ducked her head and took a bite.
‘Good?’ said Andy, his voice slightly hoarse.
‘Mmm!’ she mumbled, chewing with a huge grin on her face.
Andy swallowed. There was a trail of dark red juice making its way down her chin.
‘You’ve got…’ he said, reaching out and wiping the juice away with his thumb.
Cath’s eyes widened and locked with his.
‘Sorry,’ he gasped. ‘I didn’t… I…’
But Cath was leaning in. He could see those dancing flecks of navy blue in her eyes…
‘Ah ha! I knew it!’
Startled, both Andy and Cath spun around—several strawberries scattering from the top of Cath’s box in the process. There, staring at them with an avid look on her face, was Annie Pottinger. She had a tea tray in her hands bearing two steaming mugs of tea and a plate of strawberry jam sandwiches.
‘Don’t mind me,’ she grinned, popping the tray down onto the grass. ‘I’ll leave you two to it.’
‘I…’ said Cath.
‘We…’ said Andy.
It was too late, Annie was already trotting away down the steps.
Cath cast an awkward glance at him, looking decidedly pink in the face.
‘Let’s get this job finished,’ she muttered.
‘How’s it going, Andy mate?’
‘Brilliant!’ said Andy, grinning up from his spot behind the entrance table to find Oli from the bookshop smiling at him.
‘Blimey—it’s heaving back here!’ he laughed. ‘How much to get in?’
Andy pointed at the laminated list of modest entrance fees. There was one rate for spectators and a slightly higher one for players.
‘I’m watching and Ruby’s playing,’ said Oli, grabbing his wallet from his pocket and handing over a twenty-pound-note. ‘She’ll be down in a sec, she’s just getting changed.’
‘Fab!’ said Andy. ‘Two secs, I’ll grab you some change.’
‘Keep it as a donation,’ said Oli, shaking his head.
‘Cheers!’ said Andy, adding it to the pot. It had been happening so often that he was no longer surprised by the generosity—though he was just as grateful as the first time. Crumbleton was showing its true colours today. He had a feeling they’d probably already exceeded any fundraising target Cath might have had in mind… and they were only about an hour into proceedings!’
‘And… is there a raffle table? Someone said…’
‘In the tent over there,’ said Andy, pointing towards the marquee Cath had borrowed from a nearby cricket club. ‘The WI ladies are looking after it. There’s also an amazing display on the history of the tournament. There are some great photos, and the old line-painting machine’s in there too! And bonus—there’s tea and cake, mocktails, Pimms, strawberries and cream…’
‘Heaven!’ laughed Oli. ‘I’ll head over there now. I’ve got an early hardback copy of Ruby’s next book here to add to the raffle prizes. I got her to sign it.’
‘I’ll be sure to tell Cath,’ said Andy, waving Oli off as he made his way towards the marquee, only to be pounced on by the gaggle of WI ladies the minute he wandered inside.
Andy grinned and settled back into his deckchair. He’d angled it so that he could half-watch the players when he wasn’t busy having cash thrown at him left right and centre.
‘Is the Match Maker back?’
Andy sat up again, only to find Kendra—one of the young waitresses from the hotel—dancing from foot to foot in front of his table. She was wearing tennis whites, and clearly waiting for her turn on the court.
‘Sorry,’ he laughed, ‘Lee’s got it. See if you can grab it from him when he comes off?’
‘Cool, thanks Andy, I will,’ said Kendra, jogging off.
Andy chuckled. The old wooden rackets had proved to be a huge hit—not least because some were brilliant, and some… not so much. Even though he and Cath had given them a once-over to check they were safe, they’d not managed to catch all the issues. Some of them had slightly saggy strings, and others had patches of woodworm they’d completely failed to spot. This had caused a great deal of hilarity when the racket Caroline chose for her preliminary match simply broke in half on her first serve.
The Match Maker— as it had been dubbed — had quickly become the racket of choice. It had decent strings and, so far, it hadn’t disintegrated on anyone mid-game.
‘Andy love?’
Andy sat up again. He’d just been distracted by the sight of Cath walking hand-in-hand with a little girl who was busy chattering nineteen to the dozen. He’d barely had the chance to speak to her since they’d arrived… but there would be plenty of time for that later. This was her big day, and she seemed to be in her element—dashing around, making sure everyone had drinks and cake, strawberries and tennis rackets. He couldn’t be more proud of her.
‘Yoo-hoo? Earth to Andy?’
‘Sorry Mabel, sorry!’ he laughed, turning to face her.
‘No worries, love,’ she said, popping a tray down onto the table next to him.
‘What’s all this?’ he said.
‘Cath just nipped into the tent and asked us if we could bring some lunch over to you,’ said Mabel. ‘She didn’t want you to miss out just because you’re stuck over here.’
‘I’m not missing out,’ said Andy. ‘I’m having the best time.’
‘That’s because you’re a sweetheart,’ said Mabel, reaching over and patting him on the cheek. ‘We all think that… and Cath does too.’
‘I… erm… we’re just friends!’ said Andy.
‘We’ll see,’ chuckled Mabel, wandering back towards the tent and the rest of the WI ladies.
‘Oh lord,’ sighed Andy, noticing that they were all waiting for her at the entrance, with identical, keen looks on their faces. It looked like he and Cath were the talk of the town, whether it was warranted or not.
Andy glanced down at the tray and smiled. The delivery might have been a tad embarrassing, but he could hug Cath for thinking of him. There was a plate piled with sandwiches, another one full of cake, a large glass of Pimms - complete with floating fruit and ice cubes, and a large portion of strawberries and cream.
Andy grabbed the bowl of strawberries to shift it into the shade, only to spot a scrap of folded paper hiding underneath it. It started to dance across the tray, and he reached out and caught it just as it was about to blow away.
Unfolding it, Andy grinned as he stared at the large, loopy handwriting.
Save the biggest one for me. C x