Page 25 of All Wrapped Up

Given that I had never actually said the words out loud to anyone before, when I later thought back over the conversation with Ash, I thought I had managed them well overall.

I had been dreading the moment as the evening went on, but I knew I had ultimately coped because I had chosen the right person to confide in and also because I had previously allowed my grief free rein and myself the time to process it on a timescale that worked for me.

Of course, it had been painful to talk about, but not unbearable.

Poor Ash, however, looked as though he’d had the stuffing completely knocked out of him.

He had sympathised but not pried, and his manner had been both tender and kind, in spite of the shock.

My hope of finding him a stalwart friend, even though we had only recently been introduced, had been confirmed.

He was even more than I could have hoped for when I had made my brave decision to embrace a more sociable life again.

As I nudged my pillow into a more appealing shape that night and tried not to disturb Pixie who had no difficulty in falling asleep, I couldn’t decide if my inability to nod off was the result of my conversation with Ash or if I was feeling nervous about the festival launch which was suddenly the next day.

It was long after midnight, when I settled on it most likely being a bit of both and finally nodded off.

Ash was back at Rowan Cottage, bright and early the following morning.

I had wondered if there might be any awkwardness between us, but he didn’t broach the subject again and we carried on as we always had.

He arrived with an air of anxiety and excitement solely reserved for the day ahead.

I was sure we would talk more about my past in the weeks to come, but on that particular Saturday, we were focused on nothing but the festival and getting it off to the best possible start.

‘Come on!’ Ash urged, as I pottered about in the kitchen and determinedly tried to stay calmer than he apparently was.

‘I am coming on.’ I smiled serenely.

The day was a huge undertaking for me and I was determined to remain tranquil in my approach to it, on the outside at least. I knew that if I succumbed to the jitters before I even got dressed, I most likely wouldn’t go into town at all.

‘I thought you’d be ready by now, Clemmie,’ Ash scolded, as he pointed at my dressing gown. ‘We’re going to be late.’

‘No, we’re not,’ I said firmly, in the face of his fussing. ‘We’ve got plenty of time. Here,’ I added, thrusting a honey covered crumpet into his hands. ‘Eat this and calm down.’

He took a huge bite, chewed for nowhere near long enough and swallowed with a loud gulp.

‘You’ll give yourself indigestion, eating like that,’ I tutted.

‘Aren’t you nervous?’ he asked, as he licked the honey off his fingers. ‘If I were you, I’d be terrified.’

‘I am a bit nervous,’ I confessed, ‘but I’m trying to keep my head. Unlike you. Your increasingly Tiggerish behaviour isn’t helping at all.’

‘Sorry,’ he apologised, looking chastened.

‘Everything’s organised,’ I reminded him, ‘so there’s nothing to get worked up about, is there?’

‘I suppose…’

‘The extra market stalls went up yesterday and the stallholders know which ones they’ve been allocated,’ I reeled off.

‘And the shops are all responsible for their own window dressings and autumn themed stock. Aside from hanging a little more bunting around the square and arranging some seasonal veg, there’s nothing left for me to do.

It’s just the market and a couple of other small things happening today and they’re all set. ’

Along with some of the stallholders selling their autumn themed wares, Jemma was going to be officially launching her Autumn Delights menu, which she’d held back, and Lizzie was offering a simple craft workshop for children in the gallery next door.

Even the weather was behaving – cool and bright – and everything was poised to run like a well-oiled machine.

Some nerves still required, but nothing to get in a flap about.

‘That’s as maybe,’ Ash commented, as he noisily shoved another couple of crumpets into the toaster, ‘but I’d be bricking it if I had to stand up in front of everyone and make a speech.

Public speaking is definitely not my forte.

And as for judging the shop windows. Geez! That’s going to be a minefield.’

I had been about to pour tea from my favourite pot, but my hand froze in mid-air. ‘What are you jabbering about?’ I stammered.

‘Well,’ he said, with a shrug, ‘everyone knows that the window dressing rivalry between the stationers and the—’

‘No,’ I cut in, as I shakily put the teapot down. ‘I’m not talking about the best-dressed window competition. What do you mean about making a speech? Who’s making a speech?’

He laughed, then realised I was being serious.

‘You, of course,’ he loudly announced. ‘As organiser, you’ll be the one talking about the festival and cutting the proverbial ribbon before it officially opens.’

‘I don’t think so.’ I gulped. ‘No one’s mentioned anything about making a speech to me.’

‘And the primary school choir is going to be singing “Autumn Days” on the stage.’

‘What stage?’ I screeched. ‘You’re having me on!’ I felt a growing knot of pain in my tummy and a sense of panic descend. ‘You’re winding me up.’

‘I am not,’ he said, as the toaster popped and made me jump. ‘I was treating a cat belonging to Hattie, a woman who works at the school, yesterday and she was on about it. The kids are really looking forward to it. They’ve been rehearsing all week.’

‘I don’t care about the choir!’ I spluttered, as I grabbed my notebook and started frantically checking my notes.

‘I mean, I do. Of course, I do. It’s lovely of them to sing, and the song is perfect, but I didn’t know anything about it and I’m definitely not making a speech.

I’ve got nothing written down here to remind me that I’ve got to say anything to anyone. ’

Surely, as the festival organiser, if this actually was in the offing, then I would have been informed about it, wouldn’t I? So much for remaining calm and serene!

‘Well,’ Ash shrugged, ‘it’s obvious, isn’t it? The festival can’t launch without some sort of fanfare to mark the occasion.’

I put the notebook down again. ‘The choir will provide that,’ I desperately said. ‘I won’t need to chip in, too.’

‘I think you will,’ Ash said contradictorily, then put the crumpets on a plate and reached for the butter knife.

‘Leave all that,’ I said tetchily, as my nerves leapt to match those that he had turned up with but now seemed to have lost. Perhaps they were contagious jitters and he’d passed them on to me. ‘Come on! We need to get ready! We’re going to be late.’

‘I am ready,’ he tutted, as I rushed upstairs to get dressed. ‘You’re the one who’s been dawdling.’

On the journey into town in Ash’s truck, with me in the front this time and Pixie strapped in between us, I sent a frantic message to Lizzie asking if Ash had got it wrong about me having to make a speech and judge the shop windows.

The pressure of that particular task had finally sunk in as I quickly brushed my teeth, piled my hair on top of my head and pulled on my favourite autumn outfit.

‘No, Ash hasn’t got it wrong,’ were the unfortunate words Lizzie greeted me with, while he parked the truck and kept hold of Pixie and I rushed over to the café. ‘Surely you realised that as official organiser, you’d have to give a speech to launch the thing.’

‘No,’ I hotly protested. ‘I did not. Why can’t you do it? Or someone else who knew Moses? Anyone but me! Please! As festival manager,’ I added, drawing myself up, ‘I’m delegating the task to you.’

Lizzie shook her head.

‘I’m not doing it because you’re the one who has turned the idea Moses had into reality,’ she pointed out. ‘You’re entitled to take the credit, Clemmie, even if you don’t want to.’

‘I really don’t want to,’ I said, with emphasis. ‘I really, really don’t want to.’

‘I take it you’re not a fan of public speaking then?’ Lizzie grinned. ‘You were fine in the pub the night of the second meeting.’

‘It’s hardly on the same level, is it?’ I cringed. ‘That was a small, well, smallish, gathering, this is potentially going to be the entire town!’

‘In that case,’ she suggested as if it was no big deal at all, ‘how about I come up on the stage with you and introduce you. Then, you can just say a few words after me?’

‘How about you go on the stage on your own and you say all of the words?’ I suggested again.

‘Nope.’

She clearly had no intention of letting me off the hook.

‘Fine,’ I begrudgingly relented. I was still terrified, but I knew the battle had been lost. ‘I’ll say something after you. Something really, really brief.’

‘Good,’ Lizzie said. ‘That’s settled. But you’re not getting out of judging the shop windows. That’s definitely down to you.’

‘I suppose that’s fair,’ I sighed. ‘And I suppose I could rope Ash in to help with that.’ He would be able to give me a heads up about the shop owners and the rivalry he had earlier alluded to that might cause ill feeling, depending on how the prizes were allocated. ‘Yes, we’ll complete that together.’

‘Atta girl!’ Joanne, who had been listening in, laughed. ‘I knew you’d find a use for him in the end.’

By the time I’d spoken to the stallholders, and been distracted by more than one exquisitely crafted autumn themed item, helped the yarn bomb brigade hang more leafy bunting and assisted in the arrangement of some huge papier-maché pumpkins (the real ones not yet being quite ready or large enough to make an impact) on the stage, I didn’t have time to come up with a speech and hoped I would be able to wing it.

‘Here goes!’ said Ash, who bounded up to join me as the town clock moved to strike half ten.