Page 34 of Winter Wishes at Pennycress Inn

Glancing up, Scarlett smiled. She’d hoped to have time before the visitors descended to go and speak to him but after getting caught up at Pennycress with a new guest who had arrived early whilst Nicola had been out at the suppliers, she’d only just managed to get set up in time let alone have a moment to clear the air between them. ‘Hi, yes, sorry, I was miles away.’

‘Dreaming of being able to relax with a nice hot coffee, perhaps?’ He chuckled.

‘Something like that.’ She shrugged. This most definitely wasn’t the time or the place to divulge what she really had been thinking about.

‘Well, in that case, I can help you with one of those.’ Bringing his arm from around his back, he held out a takeaway coffee cup. ‘Unfortunately, the relaxing side of things will have to wait.’

‘Oh, wow! Thank you. You don’t know how much I need this.’ Taking the cup, she took a sip before glancing across at his stall. ‘It looks as though you’ve got customers.’

‘Ah, yes.’ Rowan turned before looking back at her and lowering his voice. ‘We’re okay though? Sorry, I know I was a bit awkward earlier, but I really do want to carry on our friendship. If you want that too, of course.’

‘I do.’ Scarlett nodded. Or more.

‘Great. Well, I’ll catch you later then.’ Rowan smiled before turning back and jogging across to his stall.

Placing the coffee cup down, she turned to one of her own customers who was trying to unhook a Christmas-themed mug from the mug tree. She was sure she recognised her from the bakery or the grocers, certainly from one of the shops in Meadowfield. ‘Hi, can I help you with that?’

‘Oh yes, please dear. I’m all fingers and thumbs today.’ The woman held out her hand and wriggled her fingers. ‘I’m blaming it on too much knitting yesterday evening and with that and all the extra baking to get stocked up for today.’

‘Aw, you knit? Are you working on something nice?’ Ah yes, Mrs Pierce from the bakery. She’d heard Laura mention her name. Unhooking the mug, she held it out for the woman’s approval before wrapping it in red tissue paper.

‘A little cardigan for my great-granddaughter.’ Mrs Pierce beamed as pride flushed across her features. ‘It’s a lovely lilac with tiny silver snowflakes cascading across it.’

‘Wow, that sounds beautiful.’ Scarlett smiled.

‘Thank you. I’m a late bloomer, I’m afraid, and only started knitting when I found out my granddaughter was pregnant, so I missed out on knitting for my own children and my grandchildren.’ Mrs Pierce pulled a flowery purse from her coat pocket.

‘You’ve got a lot of catching up to do then?’ Scarlett grinned.

‘Haha, I certainly do. This little one will be blessed with a constant supply of knitted cardigans, jumpers, bonnets and blankets.’ Mrs Pierce chuckled as she passed across the money for the mug. ‘Right, I’d better get back to the bakery. I’ve left my weekend staff in charge, and I promised I wouldn’t be longer than fifteen minutes. I probably shouldn’t have popped out as we’re so busy but every year I’m rushed off my feet with customers and miss out on all the lovely handcrafted items, so this year I promised myself I’d get away, even for a short while.’

‘I can sympathise there. I rarely get a chance to escape from behind my own stall to take a look at what others are selling.’ Scarlett glanced around the market. There was so much on offer. Even if she only managed to sneak across to the stall selling soy candles and wax melts she’d be happy. One of their big candles would be the perfect Christmas present for Laura.

‘I hope you get to take a look. If you do, make sure to check out the infused oils at the end over there.’ Mrs Pierce pointed to the left. ‘I’ve just stocked up myself.’

‘Ah, they sound good. I’ll check them out, thanks.’ A present for Jackson, perhaps? Scarlett waved as Mrs Pierce headed back to the bakery, carrying two bags brimming with goodies she’d found at the stalls. Turning to the next customer in line, Scarlett grinned. Hopefully by the end of today she’d have enough money to replace the heater in the camper in case the thermal fuse didn’t fix it.

23

Unhooking the single leftover mug from the mug tree, Scarlett yawned. The queue of customers had been non-stop until Miss Cooke had declared the Christmas market was over and ushered any stragglers home. Nicola had popped by an hour or so ago and assured her all was okay at Pennycress and tonight’s guests were booked in and happy, which hopefully meant Scarlett would be able to get back after she’d packed this lot up and take a long hot bath before curling up in front of the TV. There’d likely be someone who wanted a drink or a slice of cake or something, but there shouldn’t be much to do.

She placed the lid on the top of the box, checking it was secure before lifting it down and pulling off the table covering. It had been a successful day, a very successful day, and she hardly had any stock to take back to the van, only a few originals on canvases which were always a tricky sell because of their higher price point, some cushion covers and a couple of tea towels, along with a small assortment of cards and smaller-sized prints. She’d definitely have made enough to replace the heater if needed, plus more. Not that she’d heard a peep from Neil Parson to tell her the part had arrived yet, which reminded her she needed to pop over and ask him in case he’d lost her number, or if it had got delayed from the suppliers.

Still, she had a little time, she supposed. She’d be staying over at Pennycress until Laura and Jackson returned on Christmas Eve, and so it wasn’t an imminent problem. And she didn’t doubt Nicola and Charlie would offer to have her stay back at Little Mead if she needed to, but the last thing she wanted was to get in the way of others celebrating Christmas Day.

Just as she stacked the second box on the first, ready to carry them to the van, her mobile rang from where she’d left it in her bag. Maybe that was Laura to update her on how the honeymoon was going? She’d promised to ring her back after the signal had dropped out the last time.

Picking it up, she frowned. The name across the screen was an unknown caller. She didn’t usually give out her number, but she guessed there was always a way scammers could come across it. Silencing it, she placed it back in her bag only for it to ring a second time. Pulling it back out, it suddenly occurred to her that it might be Laura. The signal wasn’t great where she and Jackson were staying, so maybe they were using the hotel phone. Besides, it wouldn’t be Tyler because, however persistent he could be, she couldn’t imagine him using an unknown number. ‘Hello?’

‘Is this Scarlett?’

Scarlett frowned. She recognised the voice. Only slightly, though, but it had to be someone she knew. She shrugged; she supposed she wouldn’t find out unless she confirmed it was her. ‘Yes, speaking.’

‘Hi, please don’t put the phone down, but it’s Donna, Tyler’s wife.’ The woman’s voice shook as though she was nervous.

Donna? Scarlett felt a lump forming in her throat. Turning, she leaned against the edge of the stall, her back to the few people still packing up and the litter pickers cleaning up after the day. Why on earth would she be ringing? Memories of the day Scarlett had unravelled Tyler’s lies came flooding back to her. Following him from work, watching as he walked up the garden path to the house it turned out he shared with Donna, watching Donna greet him on the doorstep. And after sitting in the car for half an hour or so, shock keeping her frozen to the spot, instinct had taken over and Scarlett had marched right up to that door fully expecting to be greeted by Tyler’s mistress. It had been in that instance when Tyler had opened the front door to see her standing there that she’d noticed the wedding ring on his normally naked ring finger, and when she’d spotted the mug he was holding, the coffee dripping down the sides as it fell to his side, the words ‘World’s Most Perfect Husband’ smashing into pieces as it collided with the hall floor.

It had been then that she’d realised Donna hadn’t been Tyler’s mistress. She, Scarlett, had.