Chapter 21
‘Here you go, let me just wrap it for you.’ Jenni deftly folded pale cream tissue paper around the small T-shirt and handed it over to the woman standing on the other side of her stall.
‘Thanks, love. Good luck today, you’ve got some lovely stuff.’
Jenni smiled gratefully as another satisfied customer headed off.
To her side, Amy was helping a young woman with a small baby choose sleepsuits hanging from the washing line.
Having picked one with a soft pink and purple pattern – made using red onion skins to create the warm colours – Amy packaged it up while Jenni took the payment.
The woman picked up one of Jenni’s cards displayed at the front of the stall and headed off with a cheery goodbye.
‘It’s going well!’ Amy squeezed her friends arm enthusiastically.
Jenni smiled. ‘I’m relieved people are actually buying things, I was so worried!’
‘You’re doing brilliantly. We’re nearly out of the tote bags and there are only a few T-shirts left, and loads of people have taken your card.’
Jenni looked around at the depleted stall and gave another smile.
The day had started in a panic. Arriving early with Jo and Nick, she had been unable to find the organisers and so had spent the first fifteen minutes frantically trying to find someone who knew where her pitch was meant to be.
Finally, she’d managed to locate a harassed-looking woman called Fiona, who’d consulted her map and directed her to a spot right in the middle of a row of other stalls selling handmade crafts.
Heading back to Jo and Nick, who’d stayed put to keep an eye on the bags and boxes Jenni had brought with her, they’d helped Jenni carry everything over to her designated place. Table deposited, her neighbours had set off home and Jenni had started unpacking her wares.
Glancing around her, she’d noted anxiously that the other stands were already set up and the stallholders were either standing around sipping hot drinks, or calmly rearranging the odd item or two.
Frantically clipping the legs of the table into place, Jenni had flung a striped tablecloth over the shabby top to hide its worn surface and had begun to lay out the items she’d spent months preparing.
It was a beautiful bright day, thank goodness, and as Jenni had made the finishing touches to her stall she’d felt the warmth from the sun on her back.
The other stallholders in her row were a friendly bunch, and some of them seemed to know each other, perhaps from other events they’d done together.
Doug, selling stained-glass pictures, had seen Jenni struggling with the poles for her washing line and had come over to give her a hand, pushing them into the ground and steadying them while she strung the line between the props.
In return, she’d been happy to help him put up the bunting he was using to decorate the gazebo covering his stand.
The Green, a space used for the annual fair, was bordered on one side by a main road and a line of handsome three-storey Georgian houses on the other.
At the far end was a small children’s playground, already busy even though it was only ten in the morning, fathers standing next to empty pushchairs, mothers pushing toddlers on swings, while at the opposite end was a parade of independent shops.
A path ran diagonally through the grass, and mature London plane trees, their pompom seedheads still dangling like baubles, stretched out overhead, buds beginning to unfurl into leaf.
Hooped-top black metal fencing edged the Green and a wildflower meadow, left unmown, added a jumble of jewel-like colour across the grass.
The area was popular with dog walkers and used for after-school picnics, but today all the usual activities had been cast aside and replaced with the annual May Day fete.
Food stalls were arranged in a semi-circle at the shop end of the park, and Jenni could see vans promising everything from candy floss to artisan sourdough doughnuts to burgers and Korean fried chicken.
Another cluster of stalls offered tombola prizes, games to play and things to win, and beyond that was a vintage carousel, bouncy castle, inflatable slide and a coconut shy.
Near the main entrance, Jenni could see a fire engine, the firefighters’ florescent yellow helmets visible too. The sight of it took her back to the morning of Amy’s fire, watching the crew dashing in and out of her house.
Poor Amy. She gave a shudder thinking again how lucky they’d all been.
Her thoughts were interrupted by her friend’s arrival. Jenni had given the stall a final once-over, checked the card reader was working and then, before she’d had time to panic again, the gates had opened and people had started arriving.
There had been a steady stream of punters all day, but now, nearing the end of the fair, the organisers were pulling out the winning tombola numbers while parents began extracting over-sugared children – the doughnut stall had run out of their fluffy, still-warm treats hours ago – from the bouncy castle with the promise of an ice cream for the way home.
‘I think we could start packing up now. What do you think?’ Jenni said to Amy.
‘Yeah, let’s take the washing line down first. How are you getting the table home?’
‘Jo and Nick are coming back to help carry it.’
‘Okay, that’s good. I’m going to meet Simon at the house at four, so I’ll head off in a bit.’
‘How are you feeling about going back?’
‘I’m actually okay. It’s all been repainted and the fairy lights are gone, so there are no horrid reminders of the fire. And if I’m honest, after staying at Simon’s mum’s, I can’t wait to have our own space again. She’s been great, but I think she’s ready for us to go now too!’
‘That sounds fair. It will be nice for you all to be home again. Which reminds me,’ Jenni pulled a bag out from under the table, ‘here’s a few welcome home goodies to thank you for helping today.’
‘Oh! Lovely, thank you.’ Amy smiled, pulling the bottle of wine out of the bag.
‘I thought you could save that for when I visit!’
‘I’ll save this for you instead,’ Amy said, holding out the Play-Doh Jenni had included for Tilly.
‘Hello, sorry to interrupt, am I too late to buy something?’
Jenni looked up and, with a sudden shock of recognition, realised it was the firefighter with the very blue eyes that had attended the fire at Amy’s house, and her cheeks flushed crimson as she remembered their previous encounter.
‘Oh, I remember you,’ he said, making her blush deepen. ‘Croft Park? Faulty lights? How are you all doing?’ he asked, turning to Amy.
‘We’re all fine now, thank you. My son wants to send you a card but I’m afraid I completely forgot your name. He wants to be a firefighter now!’
‘It’s Ben Walker,’ said Ben with a smile, ‘and honestly, you’re welcome. I’m just glad you’re all OK. But I’m looking for something for my niece, she’s seven. Have you got anything that might fit her?’
‘Definitely, Jenni can help you find something,’ said Amy, nudging her friend in the ribs, while Jenni searched through the items they’d already started packing away.
She knew she had a few top and legging sets for older children, and upon finding the packages she was looking for she put them out on the stall.
‘Here you go, would any of these be any good?’
Ben took his time looking through the different sets, finally settling on a blue and green combination. ‘I think she’d like these.’
‘An excellent choice for the discerning seven-year-old.’ Jenni said. ‘You have impeccable taste.’
‘Well, I hope my niece agrees, she’s a total nightmare if she doesn’t like something.’
‘I can always swap it if she wants a different colour. Here’s my card with all my socials on it, you can get hold of me any time.’
Seeing Ben’s eyebrow raise slightly, Jenni felt herself blush again. ‘I mean, contact me,’ she amended hastily. ‘All strictly professional,’ she gabbled nervously.
Ben took one of her business cards, along with the now-wrapped present.
‘Thanks,’ he said, the corner of his mouth lifting into another smile. ‘I’m sure she’ll be very happy with them, but it’s good to know where I can find you.’
Cringing, and ignoring Amy’s giggling, Jenni watched as he walked away, an unexpectedly fluttery feeling in her tummy.