Second Chance Summer, page 24
Lily almost snorted herself. ‘Important job. Have you seen Penny?’ She tried to look past Muriel’s imposing person. ‘I’m meant to be meeting her.’
‘Muriel!’
Before she could reply, Penny jogged up, a little pink in the face. ‘I see you’ve met Lily! Isn’t it wonderful to see her?’
Muriel curled her lip dismissively. ‘I’ll leave you to it, then. I’ve got to read the riot act to the stewards. Stop them from letting any strays in before we open.’ She checked her watch. ‘In twenty-three minutes.’
Muriel sallied off, chest puffed out like a galleon with all its sails billowing.
Penny gave a little sigh. ‘Oh, dear. I am so sorry I wasn’t here. There was a problem with the PA system but it’s sorted now. Was Muriel very terrifying? She can be rather intimidating.’
‘She was a bit … forceful,’ Lily said, laughing. ‘But I can cope.’
‘Phew. Good for you. Muriel always takes charge of logistics. She’s really not the best candidate for customer relations so I try to encourage her to stick to putting up ropes and organising queues. Hopefully, you’ll feel more welcome from now on. And if you’ve survived Muriel, the rest should be easy!’ Penny beamed encouragingly. ‘Come on. The other organisers are dying to meet you.’
Lily wouldn’t have said ‘dying’ exactly, but there was a definite curiosity among the half-dozen or so volunteers who were helping at the fair. Unlike Muriel, they’d all seen the Great British Craft Show and a few looked wide-eyed with terror that Lily might suddenly pass a verdict on their hair or shoes. Evidently, she still had a lot of work to do before she convinced some people that she wasn’t the ogre who had been portrayed in the TV programme.
On the other hand, she could only be herself.
By the time she’d met everyone and run through her duties – a very few words to launch the show, generally staying around to chat to people and then shaking hands at the prize-giving – the fair was almost ready to open and a queue of punters snaked down the side of the building.
Muriel’s voice boomed out from the entrance doors.
‘By my watch, it’s time to open. Manpreet, you can unbar the doors and let in the hordes!’
Lily didn’t see Manpreet but imagined her being trampled by hundreds of visitors eager to get first dibs on the ceramic dolphins, paintings and coasters adorning the stalls.
Moments later, people swarmed in, buzzing around like excited bees, and the noise swelled to deafening proportions.
Penny ushered Lily into the kitchen where several volunteers were already filling cups of instant coffee with hot water from an urn. There were hundreds of cakes and biscuits on trays.
‘We ought to do the official bit quite soon, if you don’t mind?’ Penny said. ‘Get it over with now we’ve got the punters inside.’
Lily’s stomach did a somersault. It seemed so long since she’d addressed an audience outside of a small business meeting. She’d avoided all requests for TV and radio interviews since the show. She felt very warm and sweat broke out on the small of her back.
‘Lily? Is that OK with you?’ Penny asked, a panicked look in her eyes.
‘Oh. Yes. Yes, good idea,’ Lily said, feigning enthusiasm. ‘Get it done now.’
‘Great, we’ll do it from the dais,’ she said, leading Lily out of the kitchen towards a raised stage area constructed from the kind of wooden boxes you’d find in a school gym.
Lily followed Penny onto the stage. Some people turned their heads, but most were busy browsing the stalls.
‘There’s a microphone,’ Penny said, picking up a lead and mic from its stand. ‘I’ll introduce you and then you speak.’
Lily’s skin crawled. A microphone. ‘It’s not on yet, is it?’ she whispered, feeling clammy and a little light-headed.
‘Not yet. I promise I’ll let you know. I’ll say: “Please give a warm welcome to our very special guest, Lily Harper, founder of the fantastic online craft and gift brand, Lily Loves.” And then you’ll be live. Is that OK?’
‘Oh.’ Lily nodded, fighting to regain her composure. ‘That’s fine. Thank you. I just didn’t want to … make a faux pas.’
‘I quite understand,’ Penny said gently, although Lily wasn’t sure anyone could understand the humiliation and horror of being caught saying something she shouldn’t in front of millions of people.
‘You will be wonderful, you know. Look how many people have come to see you. There’s no way we’d have had such a turnout without you.’
Lily did look. There must now be well over a hundred people in the room, probably more. Her heart was still beating far too fast and sweat trickled down her back. Why had she agreed to this?
At the rear, a small group caught her eye.
It was Sam and Étienne, with Amelie and Tania on their shoulders.
The two girls waved frantically and Étienne and Sam smiled broadly.
Lily almost burst into tears of relief. She had people she loved and cared for here and they were willing her on. They were what mattered, not what random strangers thought or said.
Penny’s hand was on her shoulder. ‘Shall we go for it?’ she murmured.
Lily took another breath and let it out with a smile of relief. ‘Yes. Let’s.’
‘Good morning, everyone, and welcome to the annual Bryher Craft Fair!’ Penny said. ‘This year is very special for two reasons. Firstly, we have a record number of makers attending. An amazing total of thirty-four!’
Woo-hoos went up.
‘And secondly, we have a VIP guest to open the show and hand out the raffle prizes – several of which she has donated – later. Please give a very warm welcome to our very special guest, Lily Harper, founder of the fantastic online craft and gift brand, Lily Loves.’
There was applause and a few whoops and cheers which Lily guessed were from her fan club at the back of the room.
She stepped forward. ‘Thank you, everyone, for that warm welcome. When Penny asked me if I’d open the fair, I’ll confess I was a little reluctant.’ Lily paused, scanning the room for a reaction. ‘You see, I’ve been thinking a lot about talent lately …’ she went on.
Someone sniggered and a few people gasped.
‘And what it really means. I’ve concluded it’s about being truly yourself. About having the courage to be original and authentic, even though that might be challenging at times.’ Lily paused, having spotted Morven watching her intently.
‘I’ve been visiting the craft shops and galleries of the islands and enjoying the beautiful homeware and artworks in my accommodation. Now, I can see even more of them at this show. Frankly, I’ve been amazed. I’ve seen so much originality and skill here on these tiny islands that I asked myself: what can I possibly add to a fair that already showcases so many incredible artists and makers?’
There was applause and a low buzz of agreement. Someone said: ‘Hear, hear.’
Lily carried on.
‘I know you are going to love visiting all these stalls, meeting the makers and, hopefully, heading home with bulging bags full of beautiful gifts and artwork. So, without further delay, please get buying!’
A very warm round of applause rang out, accompanied by a few more whoops.
Lily handed the mic back to Penny like it was a hot potato.
‘It’s off,’ she said.
Lily experienced a huge whoosh of relief. It was over and it hadn’t ended in disaster.
‘Good speech. I can see you’ve done this before,’ Penny said.
‘Not to an audience like this.’ She felt like she’d just been let out of school for the big holidays.
‘Good for you for doing it! It was a big ask after what you went through.’
‘No problem. You’re welcome,’ Lily said. ‘I’d love to go and look at the stalls properly now and mingle with the makers.’
‘Off you go then,’ Penny said. ‘If you can fight your way through the hordes, as Muriel calls our customers!’
Lily thought that fighting her way through hordes would be a breeze after making her speech. She dived into the crowds, hoping to meet up with Sam and the family, but the place was so packed, it was like trying to find a mate at a music festival. Occasionally she caught a glimpse of Étienne or Sam but then, tantalisingly, lost them again.
People kept stopping her to chat to or pose for selfies, and she was fully aware that her main role was to speak to the makers and punters.
Delicious scents wafted from a stall selling candles, melts and diffusers concocted from flowers grown on the islands. There were pouches and cosmetic bags in sustainable fabric and lots of original artwork. She was particularly taken by a range of notebooks and stationery with gorgeous paintings of the sun rising over Stark. There were coasters adorned with puffins, scallop trinket dishes and baskets made from old fishing rope.
She could have bought so many things for gifts and resolved to order her birthday and Christmas presents from the makers when she returned.
She spoke to as many of the stallholders as she could, asking about their processes, their inspiration.
Each one was passionate about their work and the place where they lived. Some were well-established while others were still trying to carve their niche and make a living.
Her mind whirled with ideas. Of course, Lily also wanted to sign up some of them to the Lily Loves label, to see if they could sell their work through the website. She could envisage a new and unique range: Lily Loves Scilly.
Today wasn’t the day.
She halted near a stall next to the canteen. Good spot, she thought, watching Morven and Damon. Their time stalking her on Stark clearly hadn’t been wasted, judging by the collages and flat lays created from shells and pebbles and other materials.
One end of the stall was taken up by moody black-and-white photographs of local scenes that could have graced the cover of a grisly thriller. It was certainly an original take on Scilly.
She approached the stall and pointed to a flat lay of a fish made from colourful shards of plastic. Damon scurried to the far end of the stall, intent on ‘tidying’ a display of prints.
Morven wasn’t so shy. ‘He’s too scared to speak to you but he is sorry,’ she said, well within the hearing of her partner-in-crime.
‘Apology accepted,’ Lily said, quite pleased that Damon was scared of her. Served him right.
She picked up a fish artwork created in vivid shades of teal, blue and turquoise. It was both cute and original. ‘I haven’t seen these before.’
‘I’ve just started working on them.’ Morven curled her lip in disgust. ‘Plastic rubbish washes up everywhere but at least I can clear some of it up while I’m beachcombing and repurpose it. I found some of the plastic for this one in the bay by the ruined cottages on Stark,’ she added, leaving Lily unsure if she was being provocative or not.
‘Well, I really love it and I think I’ll take it.’
Morven’s lips parted in surprise. ‘You’re just saying that to make me feel good.’
Lily went to replace the flat lay on the stall. ‘If it bothers you, I can leave it?’
‘No!’ Morven rolled her eyes. ‘Do you really like it? It’s one of my favourites.’
‘I wouldn’t have said so if I didn’t. The colours are gorgeous and it will brighten up my office.’
‘Your office. You’re going back then?’ Morven sounded genuinely amazed.
‘Well, yes … I have to. I’m leaving on Monday morning.’
‘Oh.’ Was that a hint of disappointment in her voice? Then she said, ‘The fish is twenty-five quid, you know.’
‘OK.’ Lily mused. ‘For a piece of original art made from found items, by a new artist, I’d say that was a fair price.’
‘I should have charged more then!’ Morven declared, putting the fish in a paper bag stamped Morven’s Creations.
Lily swiped her card over the portable reader. ‘You should ask Sam to hang some in the cottages. You could make them to complement the colour schemes in the bathrooms.’
‘Yeah. Maybe I will.’ Morven’s eyes lit up. ‘I can charge him a bit more for a special commission. I’ll tell him.’
‘I’m sure he’ll be delighted.’ Lily thought gleefully of Sam’s expression when he heard that. ‘I like Damon’s photograph of the pest house by the way. I think I’ll buy that too as a memento,’ she said. ‘You can pass that on to him as he’s too scared to speak to me. I’ll pick it up later.’
Clutching her purchase, Lily moved on, admiring silver jewellery, ceramics, textiles decorated with agapanthus prints, turned wood items, paintings, glass decorations and more. She bought a shopping tote made of recycled fabric to put her fish in and collected the print of the pest house from a sheepish Damon, who muttered something that sounded like a mash-up of ‘thanksozthanksyeah’ as he swiped her card.
Most of the makers had the open minds of artists and creative people. They seemed willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. Two told her that Tyrone from the craft show needed to hear the truth, and several posed for selfies. Occasionally she overheard phrases she wasn’t supposed to.
‘Oh, is that her?’
‘She doesn’t have much make-up on, does she?’
‘I’m sorry but I don’t think she was the right person to launch the fair.’
‘Actually, she seems really nice and normal.’
‘She seems lovely to me. She posed for a selfie and I like her dress.’
‘She bought one of my bags!’
‘Bet she rips off the makers.’
‘I bet she’s loaded. She could probably buy everything here – including the community centre and the islands.’
Er, no, not quite, thought Lily, but said nothing. She was fully aware how fortunate she was, and that she was privileged and wielded a degree of power, but she had started very modestly in life and cared deeply about the makers. She operated on what she thought was a very fair basis and was always open to discussion, bearing in mind she did have to make a profit to keep the business running. She could make a lot more – especially if she took the supermarket deal.
Yet wouldn’t that go against the very values she’d championed here at the show: originality and individual creativity?
If she’d been reminded of one thing by the fair, it was how important individual creativity was. It was the passion of the artists and makers that reminded her of how she’d felt when she’d had her own little stall – and how satisfying it had been to support other artists’ work.
‘I get up early to catch the best light when it’s still and I’m all alone. There’s no point rushing though I’ve been up all night before a fair to create new stock to sell. I must be mad …’
‘I source everything either on the islands or as close to home as possible. It matters.’
‘I can’t imagine doing anything else. Even if I made no money at all, I’d still paint or sew – but I have to eat and pay my bills …’
Their comments made her tingle with recognition because she herself had felt the same highs and lows, the joy and angst. She knew their problems and it was why she’d set up Lily Loves in the first place. It still was.
Running her business wasn’t about making loads of money; it was about passion and integrity – words that meant nothing in themselves but everything if you backed them up with actions.
‘Auntie Lilleeee!’
The girls had finally found her. Gathering them to her, she heaved an inner sigh of relief. Sam and Étienne arrived too, and their little group attracted attention. Lily didn’t care, it was so lovely to be reunited with them again.
‘Can we have lunch? I’m starving.’ Tania patted her tummy with a dramatic sigh.
‘Me too,’ said Lily.
Amelie tugged at Lily’s hand. ‘Sam let me drive the boat!’
‘Did he? He doesn’t let me.’
‘You sat on Daddy’s lap and he drove the boat,’ Tania said. ‘He let me tie the knot.’
‘Everyone helped,’ Sam said firmly.
‘Except me,’ Étienne declared. ‘But I am hungry so shall we find some food? What shall we have?’
‘Cake.’
‘Beans on toast.’
‘No, I want cake.’
‘Poisson cru?’ Étienne offered hopefully.
‘I can make that,’ Lily said, sliding a look at Sam.
Étienne raised his eyebrows. ‘Maybe we should have it for dinner then.’
‘Let’s have burgers,’ Sam cut in to avoid a diplomatic incident.
‘Yes, burgers! Burgers!’
The twins took hold of Sam’s hands and forged ahead to join the queue at the barbecue.
‘I see you acquired a new skill while you’ve been here,’ Étienne said to Lily.
‘I can make about six things. That’s it. I couldn’t let Sam do all the cooking and sit eating alone while he lurked in the kitchen – it was just weird.’
‘If you say so.’
‘Étienne, don’t make more of this than it is.’
‘I didn’t even know there was a “this” to make more of.’ He slipped his arm around her shoulders. ‘It’s wonderful to see you happy. I’m so glad you didn’t rush home that first weekend. It would have been a tragedy.’
‘Tragedy? That’s a strong word.’
‘Rejecting something precious when it might be your only chance in life to grasp it, is a kind of tragedy. Believe me,’ he said wistfully.
Lily couldn’t argue so she nodded and joined the girls in the queue for food. Deciding between hot dogs and cheeseburgers was so much simpler than deciding who was doing the rejecting: Sam or her.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
After the craft fair, Sam took them back to Stark for a campfire supper on the tiny beach below the main cottages. They all gathered driftwood for the fire and cooked fish tacos that even Tania ate.
Lily and Étienne lounged on rugs, beer bottles cooling in the sand beside them.
Sam had taken the twins beachcombing, giving Étienne and Lily a chance to talk. She had a feeling that Étienne might have asked him if they could have some time alone.
‘The girls love it here,’ she said.
