Page 43 of All Wrapped Up

‘On the what?’ frowned Ash, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

‘Then, I realised I recognised the kitchen they were in, too,’ Joanne continued, with a sniff, and Lizzie handed her a tissue. ‘It was the kitchen at Rowan Cottage.’

‘It was.’ I nodded, because I couldn’t deny it, but I did wonder why her working it out had prompted her to be so upset. ‘It is.’

‘So, I have guessed right then?’ She swallowed. ‘You are the person behind the account, Clemmie?’

‘You have and I am.’

Ever since Lizzie’s visit I had known there was an inevitability that if I invited someone into the cottage and they happened to be an AutumnEverything follower, they were probably going to recognise the backdrop to some of the images because it had happened with her.

However, I hadn’t given that scenario a thought when Joanne had unexpectedly turned up, but I supposed that as long as it was close friends only and they kept their deductions to themselves, then I could live with that.

I would have to if I was going to truly settle in the Fens as more than a home-loving hermit.

That said, I might not be able to accept the situation quite so bravely if Joanne now said she hadn’t kept her discovery to herself and her upset did hint that that might be the case.

‘I knew it,’ she winced, rather than crowed. ‘But when I showed Jemma, she said I couldn’t be right because Lizzie had been inside the cottage and never said a word.’

‘That’s because I can keep a secret,’ Lizzie was quick to say. ‘Even from my best friend, if I’m asked.’

‘So,’ I surmised, ‘you, Lizzie and sort of Jemma now know…’

‘And so does the customer who was in the café,’ Joanne continued, making me feel less stoic by the second. ‘He’d been listening to our conversation and as a follower of the account himself, he was keen to know why you hadn’t used it to promote the festival.’

‘Who was the other customer?’ Ash, who was now scrolling on his phone, asked. ‘My god, Clemmie! Are you an influencer?’

He turned the phone around and I saw my grid.

‘Yes,’ said Joanne, before I could say otherwise. ‘She is.’

‘I recognise that bookcase,’ he commented, then carried on scrolling. ‘And those cushions…’

‘The other customer?’ I asked Joanne. ‘Who was it?’

‘I guess you must have a good reason for keeping the account anonymous, don’t you?’ she perceptively asked me, rather than name them, as she distractedly shredded the tissue.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I do. A very good reason and a very private one, too.’

‘Oh no,’ she then sobbed and let out a shuddering breath.

‘I had a big social media following before on a different account,’ I further said. ‘But I had to shut it down, after…’

‘Oh crikey,’ said Ash, who looked up as my words trailed off.

It was the emotional vulnerability that I had experienced after Callum’s death and the endless influx of messages and comments that landed, that had strengthened my resolve to keep both my face and my name away from AutumnEverything.

A few local friends now knowing I was the person behind it was one thing, but Joanne seemed to be working her way up to saying that her revelation to the customer in the café had the potential to let everyone know.

And if that was the case, it could mean that my darling Callum was about to be dragged into the limelight again and, if his story did come to light, I was possibly going to be bombarded with more well-meaning but unwanted attention, too.

I realised then that Ash, Joanne and Lizzie were all looking at me.

‘What’s the reason?’ Lizzie asked.

‘Never mind.’ I swallowed. ‘You still haven’t said who the customer was, Joanne. It wasn’t Jason, was it?’

That would have been the worst, but I couldn’t really imagine him being on Insta.

‘No,’ Joanne finally said. ‘It was the photographer from the paper and he said he’s going to tell the journalist writing the feature who you are. I’m so sorry.’

She started to properly cry then and Lizzie looked torn between ticking her off and comforting me.

‘Well,’ she huffed, rather than doing either, ‘that will certainly spread the word, won’t it?’

‘Oh, Joanne,’ I sighed, as I scooped Pixie up for a cuddle.

‘What are you going to do?’ Ash asked me.

I took my time to rationally consider that.

As unsettled as I was by the thought of having to manage a situation similar to the one I had experienced before, I knew nothing would be gained from breaking down or flying off the handle or wishing I could turn back time.

I’d attempted all three in the past and with mixed, but mostly, unsatisfactory results.

It was done now and I had to face the outcome, whatever that turned out to be.

‘Wait until the paper comes out and see what’s written, I suppose,’ I said as I buried my face in the comforting warmth of Pixie’s fur.

Joanne might have been the one to let the cat out of the bag, but as I had recently immersed myself in local life, I think I had known, somewhere deep in the back of my mind, that this was going to happen one day.

I was amazed that I could sound so calm about it now the time had come far sooner than I might have hoped, but of course my attitude might change if the journalist did go ahead and mention more than AutumnEverything…

‘We could talk to the guy,’ Ash suggested. Out of everyone, he was the only person who knew my backstory and was now obviously, and kindly, concerned, even though I was resigned to it potentially being exposed. ‘Ask him not to tell the journalist who’ll be writing the story up.’

I shook my head. ‘No,’ I said. ‘We’re not going to do that, because in my experience, word has a habit of spreading no matter what you try and do to stop it.

’ Lizzie looked at me and I wondered if she was thinking back to the day we’d met when I’d said something similar.

‘And don’t worry, Joanne. I know you didn’t mean for this to happen. ’

‘I really didn’t,’ she sniffed. ‘By the time I’d realised that if you’d wanted everyone to know about it, you would have said something by now, it was too late. Is there anything I can do to make it less of a mess?’

‘No,’ I said, putting Pixie down again. ‘I don’t think so and you never know, in the long run, it might not end up being as much of a mess as you think.’

‘But I mean it.’ She swallowed, clearly not comforted by my words. ‘I’ll do anything.’

‘Well, in that case,’ I requested, because she obviously felt the need to do something, ‘go and ask Jemma for some cake. I have a sudden need for a huge slice of something sweet.’