Chapter 34
Chloe
The event was actually, miraculously, running smoothly.
Well, not completely smoothly – there were issues cropping up constantly.
Maggie running out of mead behind the bar and needing another few kegs from storage.
A light going out in the portable toilets.
One of the paints at the children’s art station getting knocked over and creating a spectacular purple puddle.
We’d set up a blind honey tasting activity just like the one we’d posted online so people could win a free bottle of mead, but we’d run out of sample spoons.
Every problem was easily fixed; something I could handle.
The kind of problem that made me feel competent rather than overwhelmed.
It was like I was collecting little achievements throughout the day, each successfully resolved crisis making me stronger and more confident.
And, more importantly, everyone around me seemed to be having a genuinely great time.
Did I get post-coital flashbacks every time I looked at the fairy lights twinkling overhead? Sure did. But I was pretty sure I was hiding it well.
The only truly annoying thing was that my parents had come.
I wasn’t sure how they’d even known about the event – they were both absolute luddites where social media was concerned – but they were here now, so I did my best to dodge them, keeping them in my field of vision at all times so I could position myself on the other side of a food stall, or amidst a tight group of people.
I found myself irritated that they looked to be having a nice time, wandering arm-in-arm, perusing the art and sampling the food.
Mum looked a bit out of place in her pristine coat and careful make-up amongst the festivalgoers in their wellies and rain jackets, but she was smiling, and so was Dad.
Was Mum’s life really so miserable? And if not, why wouldn’t she want that for me?
Why did she judge me so hard for wanting it for myself?
Though I supposed I’d never exactly told her I wanted it. I hadn’t spoken to her properly since I’d figured that out for myself. I could already imagine the disappointment etched across her face when I told her, though. So, yes, better to keep away from them.
More excitingly than my parents, my friends were having an absolute blast. I spotted them periodically throughout the afternoon – Jack and Morgan swaying together near the acoustic stage, Fatima deep in conversation with one of the local artists about her ceramic work, Phil and Amy trying their hands at the children’s painting lesson, despite being three or four times the age of the other participants.
Phil was getting increasingly frustrated, apparently being shown up by a seven-year-old.
“This is rigged,” I heard him mutter as I passed by. “There’s no way that kid’s sunflower is better than mine.”
“Maybe if you stopped trying to make yours so detailed,” Amy suggested, not looking up from her own abstract creation.
“Sunflowers have very specific petal arrangements,” Phil protested. “I’m being scientifically accurate.”
“You’re being embarrassing,” Amy said, rolling her eyes. “This is such an ick.”
“Me being bad at art?”
“You being competitive with literal children.”
“You know you love me,” Phil said, leaning over to plant a kiss on Amy’s smiling cheek. I walked past at that exact moment, making a retching noise at their PDA, eliciting a giggle from Amy.
I was grinning when Jen appeared at my elbow with three people in tow – two men holding hands, and a young boy who was eyeing the face-painting queue with obvious longing.
“Chloe,” Jen said, “I’d like you to meet Dafydd Chen from the council, his husband, Hao, and their son, Oliver.”
My stomach did a little flip. This was the man who’d approved our grant, here to see how we’d spent the money.
On one level, I was thrilled to see him – he was the reason I had my job, after all – but on another level, I was terrified.
If he didn’t like the event, what would that mean?
Could he take the money back? Make it so Jen couldn’t hire me permanently?
I needn’t have worried though.
“This is wonderful,” Dafydd said warmly. “Really amazing turnout, and I’m impressed at how many other local businesses you’ve included. Money well spent, as far as I’m concerned.”
“Thank you,” I managed, my heart racing at the validation. I pulled my tablet out from under my arm. “Do you want me to show you some of what I have planned for after the event? The vendor partnerships, or the community engagement strategy?”
“Oh, I’m off duty today,” Dafydd said with a smile, holding up his free hand, and I felt myself flush at how strongly I’d come on.
At least I was enthusiastic? “I’m excited to just enjoy the festival with my family.
But please do put in a meeting request with my office – I’d love to hear more about your approach in a formal setting. ”
“Absolutely,” I said, already making a mental note to follow up first thing Monday.
Dafydd and his family walked off towards the art station, and Jen leaned in, smiling and subtly squealing.
“They seem really happy!” she said, watching them go.
“I know,” I said, still disbelieving. “Even with the rain plan.”
“We should talk about what the autumn event schedule will look like after your time off,” Jen said quietly to me before following them. “I’ve been looking over all the ideas you’ve shared, and I think there are some exciting options.”
My heart leapt. The autumn event schedule? That sounded like confirmation that she was planning to keep me around. Confirmation I’d been desperate for all summer. But honestly, I didn’t know what to do with that information right now.
As one of the sound techs waved at me from across the room, I tried my best to put it out of my mind. I still had this event to finish before I could worry about the next, and getting ahead of myself wouldn’t make that any easier.
* * *
The silent auction closed around five o’clock, and I went to tally up the final numbers. When I finished the calculations, I had to double-check them. We’d somehow raised over five thousand pounds for the rewilding trust.
I looked around for Patricia, who would receive the donation on the charity’s behalf, spotting her near the stage.
She was gleefully dancing with Alan, who looked like he was tolerating rather than enjoying the experience but was being a good sport about it.
Next to them, shockingly, were Jen and Maggie, whose jobs were done for the day.
Their arms were looped around one another as they swayed, holding eye contact.
I’d have to ask Teddy about that some other time.
I started to walk towards Patricia when someone stepped into my path.
“Chloe.”
“Mum,” I said, surprised. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
“I saw your social media posts,” she said. “I didn’t even know you had a new job. I had to find out from your marketing materials?”
I felt the familiar flush of guilt and defensiveness. “I wasn’t sure if the change was going to be permanent. I didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up.”
“And, is it? Permanent?”
I nodded. “I think so. I mean, I hope so. I’m really enjoying it.”
My mother looked around the warehouse, taking in the music and laughter, the families with paint-stained children, the slightly chaotic but joyful atmosphere.
“It seems … lively,” she said, her face impassive, her tone unreadable.
But I knew something she didn’t. I knew she’d been enjoying herself.
I’d seen her wandering around, admiring everything I’d worked so hard for months to create.
I’d seen the smile on her face; the one she apparently couldn’t bring herself to give me now.
Something clicked inside me – confirmation that her disapproval had never been about the reality of my life. My choices. She was determined to be disgruntled, no matter what was going on. No matter how it might impact me.
I supposed it would have been too much to hope for a happy reconciliation; an admission of being wrong, so inspired by what I’d achieved that she couldn’t help but treat me differently. No, my mum was who she was, and one festival, no matter how successful, wasn’t going to change that.
I thought about calling her out on the hypocrisy; telling her that I knew she was full of shit. But what good would that do? Would it make me feel better to have it out with her here and now?
No, I knew it wouldn’t. I could be proud of what I’d done, even if she wasn’t.
“It is lively,” I said instead. “And I’m really proud.”
She gave me a tight smile that wasn’t really a smile – turned down at the corners, a crease in the centre of her forehead – and nodded. “Of course, dear.”
“There were a lot of moving parts, actually,” I said, not able to resist at least a little bit of bragging.
One tiny attempt to show her behind the curtain.
“This event has single-handedly helped grow the business, and we’ve managed to establish some really valuable partnerships from it that mean we’ll be able to diversify our revenue streams and grow our customer base.
” If anyone walking by had heard me, they would never have thought I was speaking to my mother.
It sounded more like I was pitching myself to Dafydd Chen again.
And by her response, I’m sure no one would have thought she was reacting to her daughter, either.
“I’m sure,” she said coldly. “It’s just…”
I rolled my eyes, not even bracing myself for what she had to say. “What, Mum? It’s just what?”
“A bit insignificant, isn’t it?”
I actually bit my tongue holding back my words, not for her benefit but for the purpose of staying professional. As determined as she clearly was to have it out – to get me back for ignoring her – I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.