Page 36 of The Perfect Blend
In the middle of all that preparation we managed to scarf down a quick sandwich for lunch, and in no time at all we saw the first car making its way down the track, just as the sun was moving lower in the sky. It had begun. The first stall holder arrived and was directed to unload by the barn doors before parking in the designated field, and then the cars started coming in thick and fast. I greeted each vendor by name, introduced Zach, and together we got them settled in, answered any queries, solved problems and just ran around. Zoe was one of the last to arrive, with my artist slash waitress friend Lucy sat in the passenger seat. She rolled down her window and grinned at me.
“You look frazzled.”
“Do I?” I said, my voice ratcheting through three octaves.
They both laughed, the traitors.
“Just a little,” said Lucy.
“Well then. You can both see yourselves into the barn, Zach will show you where to set up. Then park the van over there,” I said, flinging my arm towards the field before turning back to the house to freshen up.
“Terrible customer service! Zero stars!” Zoe shouted out the window as I walked away, which I responded to very maturely with a brief but offensive hand gesture.
Looking at my reflection in the mirror above the sink, old and spotted with age, I had to concede that I did look a bit of a mess. How was it that we were expected to believe film stars ran round Jurassic Park or in action chases looking perfect when a few hours of setting up a market would do this to the average woman?
I did my best with the materials I had, splashing my face with cold water and grabbing a brush from my bag to re-tame my hair. I’d had the foresight to pack some make-up, and I set about lightly enhancing my face. I applied some low-key eye liner, and some champagne eyeshadow to pick out the colour in my eyes, before carefully putting on mascara. I’d be nipping in between cold and hot so regularly that my cheeks would need no blush, but my lips were another thing. I primed, lined in deep red, and applied my moisturising lipstick. I stood back and looked myself over, zhuzhing up my hair. Yep, I looked pretty good. I was still wearing my sensible boots and hiking jacket but, as I turned around and verified, these jeans were worth every penny - my bum looked great. I laughed at myself lightly, I was primping only partly to look presentable as a potential future co-owner of the business inspiring this market, and mainly so that I could feel confident that whenever Zach saw me tonight I would be looking the bomb dot com. Pulling my hair up into a neat ponytail that would both look good and avoid looking messy in the wind, I headed back outside to kick off the market.
It was all starting to come together, and before I knew it, the stalls had finished setting up, spirits were high, and the customers started to arrive. The firepit had already been lit and was crackling away, and the lights were all switched on, thanks to Zach. It looked fantastic, so welcoming and festive. Together we greeted and directed customers for the first half an hour until I sent him inside the barn. It was exciting to say hello to all of the people who had come out to our event, both familiar faces and strangers. A few people told me that they had heard about it on the radio, some had read about it in the parish magazine, others on school notice boards, on social media or even by word of mouth. Some of the locals I recognised commented on how nice it was to be back up at the farm after so long, and some people I didn’t recognise from the town commented on how interested they were to come and take a look at the farm they’d passed on their walks.
The local pub owner who was running a drinks stall came and found me, giving me a hot toddy to keep me warm as the customers just kept coming. Soon the first field was full of cars and I had to open the gate to the back up field. I couldn't keep the smile off my face. I loved interacting with the public, it was one of my favourite parts of my job, and this event reminded me just how much fun it could be. The hot food vendors were set up outside and I was handed a roast pork bap to keep me going as I chatted with a group of people by the fireside. The cars had finally slowed to an irregular trickle when I realised that I had been going non-stop for about an hour and a half. It was probably a good time to pop inside to see how it was all going.
The sound of voices washed over me as I stepped into the barn and the scene I encountered was magical. The old barn had been transformed into a winter shopping paradise. Packed with stalls and shoppers, everyone seemed to be doing a roaring trade. I snapped a few pics for social media, then nipped back out because I had completely forgotten to take any pictures from outside. Satisfied with that, I headed back inside again, through the crowds, to find Zach at the back. I passed Lucy talking enthusiastically with an older couple over one of her paintings and Zoe showing some prospective clients possible cuts for their cockapoo. Suzie and Mia from Taylor Baked had a line of customers, and when I saw the table laden with baked goods I knew why. Those mince pies looked amazing. I picked up two mulled wines on my way, stopping to have a quick chat with Benji who was loitering by a record stall, and finally spotted Zach. The seating area was full, small groups perused the board detailing the farm shop and cafe. The man himself was in an animated conversation with a group of people, but the conversation wrapped to a close before I got there and he waved them off with a smile. His grin broadened when he spotted me, lighting up his handsome face and setting off butterflies in my stomach. It felt good to have him be so happy to see me.
“Ah!” he said as I drew near. “Is that an angel I see bearing gifts?”
I laughed, feeling a blush spot up my cheeks and handed him a mulled wine. “I don’t remember it being the angels who brought gifts, I thought they just brought news of miraculous pregnancies.”
His eyebrows shot up, “News of miraculous pregnancies? Are you saying… the strength of my masculine magnetism has managed to-”
“Yes!” I interrupted with great aplomb, hiding the urge to giggle behind a super serious expression. “This may just be the second virgin conception in history. Quick, someone call the Pope.”
We both gave in and burst into laughter. “I hope none of the church ladies overheard that,” Zach said, sipping his wine and raising his eyebrows suggestively.
“Fingers crossed,” I said, doing just that. “Anyway, how’s it been going over here?”
“Really fantastic actually.” Zachs eyes lit with enthusiasm as he reported his success. “The response has been really supportive, we’ve had lots of suggestions, lots of email addresses added to the newsletter. Honestly, much better than we expected, people are already invested.”
“That's great! Any tricky moments?”
“Nobody was difficult. Some people came up here to give me a piece of their mind, but once they realised they’d got the wrong end of the stick they were quite embarrassed, and then enthusiastic.”
“That’s great!” I was so pleased. His name was finally getting cleared, and he was getting a proper introduction to the community. The project was getting support, the market was going great, I was so buzzed that everything was going so well.
“So what about you-”
“YOU SMARMY SOUTHERN GIT,” a voice bellowed, booming loud enough to be heard across the din of the crowd’s chatter.
My heart froze in my chest as I spun round. Red faced and very angry, the older man from the pub was pushing his way through the crowd, eyes locked on Zach.
Chapter Fourteen
“John, this is not the time or the place,” said Zach, in a steely tone. I parked my surprise that Zach knew this guy by name and glanced quickly at the people around us. Some looked shocked, some had already started muttering to their companions. People weren’t moving away though, they were actually coming closer to see what was going on. All eyes were on us. One older woman looked as if she was watching the finale of an engrossing TV show. If there was popcorn, she would have been happily eating away. This would be gossip for the ages.
I groaned internally and tried to think of a way to salvage the situation. I was keen to get to the bottom of what was up with this John who’d been so weird at the pub the other night, but not at the expense of the success of the market.
“I don't bloody well care if it's the time or the place, you thieving bastard.” John had reached us and looked as though he was about to take a swing at Zach. I slid in front of him to try and defuse the situation.
“Right okay, lets all just calm down-” I said trying to be soothing.
