Page 24 of The Perfect Blend
"Was this orchestrated?" I asked, as I came up behind them and sidled round the table to flop into the booth. If Zach was helping Sheila to find her friends, why were they searching in the very room Sheila had been moments before? I’d had my suspicions earlier but now, seeing Sheila and Zoe cosied up whispering, I felt pretty certain I was right, this was out and out meddling.
"Not at all, dear. Just happy happenstance," said Sheila, eyes crinkled as she smiled at me. I pursed my lips, I didn’t believe that at all.
"So what happened?" asked Zoe, before I could grill Sheila further. "Where's Zach?"
"Zach had to go meet a friend, and I shan't tell you a thing." I declared. They weren’t getting anything from me, they didn't deserve it. Zoe and Sheila both groaned dramatically.
"At least until I get another drink down me,” I said, smiling as I relented. “My round, ladies?" I asked, noting the empty glasses on the table.
"Lovely, thank you petal. You're a good girl," said Sheila with a wink, patting my hand lightly. She and her winks needed some kind of warning to go with them. Beware: Charming but Scheming Old Biddy Ahead.
"Shame she can't say the same for you,” ribbed Zoe, nudging Sheila playfully, “you sly lady, you.”
We laughed as I collected the glasses, assessing the bar for the best spot to get served. I felt high on life and definitely couldn’t begrudge Sheila for her shenanigans given the result of them. I owed her this drink.
The main length of the bar was currently being propped up by some older gentlemen who were setting the world to rights, and wasn't the greatest place to try and order a drink from. I nipped into one of the quieter antechambers which a portion of the bar opened up into and leant against the counter. The barmaid, who I’d gone to school with, caught my eye and held up a finger to indicate she'd be just a minute. I smiled and gestured for her to take her time. I was in no rush.
My mind wandered back to that kiss and excitedly raced ahead of itself wondering where this could take us. We agreed to focus on the upcoming event, but it was clear that we both wanted to see where this took us when that had wrapped up. I wanted to have a conversation with Zach for a contingency plan regarding managing business and pleasure if it all went sideways. It always paid to be prepared after all, but all of this felt so right and easy that I really, for the first time in the long time, thought this would go perfectly.
"You'd best steer clear of men like him, my love," rumbled a voice next to me. Whilst I had been musing, an old gentleman in typical farmer wear - old jeans, shirt and jumper with flat cap and a ruddy face had come up beside me. He seemed familiar but I just couldn’t seem to place him.
"Men like who?" I asked, curious. It was usually good fun to strike up conversations with all the people in the pub, and I was in a bubbly mood. I wondered where he was going with this - a joke about scoundrel farmers, perhaps?
"Like that Zachary Spencer," he said, his face grim and serious. I felt a flicker of unease go through me. This didn't feel like it was going to be a pleasant little chat.
"And what's wrong with Zachary Spencer?" I asked. There seemed nothing else I could say.
The old man shook his head, "He's no good that boy, no good at all. He’s a liar and he’ll cheat to get what isn’t his. Take it from someone who knows."
I opened my mouth to ask what he was talking about but he just shook his head.
"I’m not one to stir up trouble,” he said, and started moving past me, stopping to put a heavy hand on my shoulder. "But you take care to mind yourself, lass, don't get caught up with the likes of him." With that he ambled out the room and left me feeling deeply confused. I watched him go, unsure whether to follow him and demand he elaborate what he meant, or let it go.
“What are you having, Robin?” The barmaid startled me from my thoughts, making the decision for me. I gestured to the glasses in front of me.
“Another of the same please, Sarah. A bitter, a G&T and a sherry for Sheila, please.” I waited as she poured the drinks, feeling disquieted by the conversation with the farmer but obliged to make small talk.
I finally got the drinks, carried them back to the table and quickly excused myself to do a quick sweep of the pub. I passed through all the main rooms leading from the bar, even scanning the faces of the group of blokes playing pool. By that time though, the strange man was already gone, and he’d taken my sense of contentment about my situation with Zach with him. I went back to our table and sat down to an enthusiastic discussion of who had the best dog in the village. I wanted to talk to Zoe about what had happened, but I didn’t want to stir the pot with Sheila by discussing it in front of her, not when I had so few answers myself. So I joined in the best I could and in the spirit of Zoe’s earlier relationship therapy, tried not to sabotage things based on anxiety. I’d get to the bottom of it sooner or later, and the man was probably just some mean-spirited drunk. My ill feelings from the interaction melted to the back of my mind in the warm light and laughter of the pub.
Chapter Ten
There was less than a week to go until the pop-up market at Bluebell Ridge Farm. Between running the coffee shop and organising the event, I'd been so busy that all thoughts of the weird encounter with the old man at the pub had been chased from my mind. The advertisements were in, stalls all confirmed, and Zach had sent me pictures of the barn and the courtyard all set up and ready to go. There were just a few things left to check off my list, but they were pretty big ones.
Today I was heading into town to the local radio station. The benefits of being a coffee shop owner meant that I knew lots of people, and one of those people was Benji, the main host of the most popular show on the station, the breakfast show. When I'd spoken to him about the possibility of advertising, he'd been so enthusiastic and said he would not only hook me up with a short ad to run this week, but also a spot on today's breakfast show. Zach and I had discussed, and we'd agreed on the main talking points. I'd asked him to come with me and speak, but he made the point that it was probably better for an established local to pitch it, someone people were already familiar with. I told him he was just being a chicken, and he said he wouldn’t rise to my bait, that this was a good growth opportunity for my brand too. He wasn’t wrong, and that meant I had to woman up and get on with it, nervous as it made me.
It was a beautiful morning and only a short walk into town, so I headed out with Beanie. She and Benji were good friends and when his name was mentioned earlier she had actually stood up and started to look for him; it was the cutest thing ever. No doubt there would be a treat waiting for her by the time we got to the studio.
We walked through the park, before climbing up the stone steps to the High Street. I was a little out of breath by the time I'd climbed the stairs but Beanie was as happy as ever.
We stepped out onto the pedestrianised street and took in the atmosphere. It was quiet and still this early, sunshine brightly illuminating the street and glinting off the Christmas lights and decorations. The town council had put them up, suspending them across the full length of the high street, all the way to the Christmas tree in the town square at the end. Nearly all the shops were currently shuttered apart from a few cafes and one lone bakery, so I had the peaceful Christmas-ified street nearly all to myself. The most amazing smell of freshly baked bread was wafting out of the bakery, and I had to pull Beanie away from the door when she tried to poke her head inside to get to the goodies.
We made our way to a building halfway down, entering a door marked 'Our Town Radio', and climbed the steep flight of steps to the first floor.
I pushed the door at the top, and was welcomed by a cheery lady at the desk.
"Hi there, you must be Robin!"
"I am indeed."
