A Vintage Year, page 19
Charlie had kept to his word on no alcohol until after the festival. The kitchen at the farmhouse had become the Rainbow Festival headquarters, particularly the large kitchen table, which was the hub of the organisation. Both Charlie’s and Maddy’s laptops were permanently on it and plugged in, trailing wires that constantly threatened to trip everyone up. Zach was there a lot too, striding around with his mobile phone clamped to his ear, making plans and decisions with military authority. He had not been keen on the Rainbow theme, preferring the Havenbury Festival as a title, but he was now happily talking about access and exit roads to the ‘Red Zone’ and ‘Green Zone’, whilst baulking at taking responsibility for the children’s themed activities like the Unicorn Marquee, which he and Charlie had left, with dubious confidence, to Flora to organise.
Flora and Maddy were giddy that morning, thrilled to hear that Dolly’s pups had arrived and could barely be persuaded to get on with their work. They were desperately wanting to invite themselves to Dove Cottage and see them. Even Zach cracked a smile of pleasure and expressed an interest. There was so much to do, though, all were quickly absorbed by what needed sorting.
Flora was in her element, having blagged industrial quantities of face paint and fake tattoos on the promise to take donations for the local children’s hospice. Zach had congratulated her and then gently pointed out that Charlie’s huge loan from Rufus was actually the ‘good cause’ she was supposed to be raising funds for and she had promised to make sure all other revenue streams went to the Dovecot Estate.
Maddy had the hat with the antlers on, signifying she was not to be disturbed as she was intensely working to get all the promotional materials, including the T-shirts, off to the printer before it was too late.
‘Oo, they’re so cool,’ breathed Flora, peeking at the designs over Maddy’s shoulder while Zach – who was having a nightmare with Highways – barked something about traffic priorities on High Green Lane being ‘tantamount to apocalyptic’ if Highways insisted on getting their way.
‘I never knew there was so much involved,’ admitted Charlie repeatedly to anyone who would listen. He was bunging the kettle back on the stove and trying to see if anyone wanted another cup of tea. The kettle had boiled dry twice because he kept being distracted by important emails coming in, or one of the various phones ringing.
‘Look, guys, I need to go into the vineyard and do a check before nightfall,’ he said, to thin air, with all his friends fully occupied and oblivious.
‘Bella would be in her element, wouldn’t she?’ he said to himself as he mooched slowly down the hill to the first field. He missed having Dolly by his side. She would have loved basking in the July heat, which was withering the poor, neglected sweet peas in the pots either side of the bench. Charlie had bought it as a birthday present for Bella. He had it specially made and put it at the top of the hill with the best view of the vineyard and beyond. They had a habit of coming out in their pyjamas to sit and drink their morning coffee.
There wasn’t much to do in the vineyard. He had checked all the sugars that morning. All he could do, over the next few weeks, was watch, worry and wait as the grapes not killed by the frost swelled and ripened. He sat down at the high end of the rows sloping away from him and contemplated the view.
‘I’m an idiot,’ he said aloud. ‘I’ve taken the farm, I’ve taken my marriage, and I’ve ruined it all but – do you know what? – I’m bloody determined to find out what happened to those jewels. And if I can get them back, I’m going to make damn sure they don’t get dragged in to pay off debts. If Ma has the money from them she can buy a little cottage somewhere in the village, maybe one of the little almshouses near the pond, and at least – when the farm goes bankrupt – she’ll be happy and safe.’
‘So you’re going to the police after all?’ said Ben.
‘Nope. Too public, too out of our control.’
‘What’s the matter with that?’
‘Ma doesn’t want it. She just doesn’t want this Geoffrey bloke to know we’re looking into anything he might be involved in.’
‘You mean he doesn’t know he’s suspected?’
‘He doesn’t even know the jewels are missing.’
‘He does if he flipping nicked them. Anyway, if he didn’t steal them, isn’t he wondering why Caroline isn’t wanting to see him any more? I gather they had quite a thing.’
‘Cold feet, second thoughts, woman’s prerogative, dunno …’ said Charlie. ‘Anyhow, where do we start?’
‘I wouldn’t mind finding out who that mysterious woman was. Plus, it’s odd, don’t you think, that he just popped up in Havenbury out of nowhere?’
‘Fair point − so, say we check electoral records, Companies House – is this bookshop a limited company? – google him, at least … do we know his full name?
‘Funnily enough, we know his middle name is Peter.’
‘Your dad’s name? Weird coincidence.’
‘If it’s true. Otherwise it’s just a corny trick deliberately designed to get my ma to relate to him.’
‘So, first name, middle name and surname. Good. Do we have an age? Date of birth?’
‘Not yet, but we will.’
In the end, Bella was kindly but firmly escorted to the door by Paddy who charmingly told her to take herself and her ‘to do’ lists and find somewhere else to put them.
‘But I just need to make sure the tiler understands the mother-of-pearl splashback needs to go in before the mixer tap … and the plumber – Mike?’ − Paddy nodded, patiently − ‘needs to know the bath can only go a foot from the wall, because the pipes are on that side, mind you the fall from the plughole is barely enough, I was thinking we should put the whole bath on a plinth, what do you reckon?’
‘I reckon,’ said Paddy, his blue eyes, which reminded her painfully of Charlie’s, ‘if I don’t get you off-site sharpish my contractors – who all fancy you, by the way, please wear a longer skirt next time – are all going to go home in a huff.’
‘But we’ve only got another couple of weeks,’ said Bella, tugging at her skirt self-consciously, Rufus had bought it for her and she daren’t refuse to wear it.
‘It’s all fine,’ Paddy said, patting her on the shoulder reassuringly. ‘I’ve worked to tighter deadlines than this. I know it looks a state but once the paint goes on and the soft furnishings go in, you’ll see … I promise.’
‘Yikes, soft furnishings! I wonder if I should go to Home Farm and see how Judy is getting on with the curtains and blinds?’
‘I think you should definitely do that,’ said Paddy, seizing on the plan with enthusiasm. ‘Cracking idea. Off you go.’
At Home Farm Bella had a warm welcome from Serena who was looking for an excuse for a pot of tea and a natter around the kitchen table. Giles was doing some mysterious business deal in London and her precious boys were away at boarding school, so she was feeling bereft. Turning down banana cake, to Serena’s astonishment − it used to be her favourite − she had a cup of black tea because Rufus was doing some weird ‘no dairy’ thing. Over tea she caught up with the news of the Bespoke Consortium.
‘It’s all down to Maddy’s hard work,’ said Serena. ‘The team are better at coping on their own now than they were, and obviously I’m doing a lot of the logistics, but Maddy is still going all guns firing on the marketing. She has too much on her plate with the festival too, and the baby coming. I’m worried for her.’
Judy was polite when Bella showed up but was obviously not keen to encourage client interference. ‘It’s all going fine,’ she told Bella, and she could see the silk dupion grey curtains for the piano bar were laid out on the long tables, looking amazing, trailing on the floor, despite the length of the tables.
‘I’ll be up next week to fit them, providing you have the room clean, decorated and ready for me.’
‘I will. It has to be. The chandeliers are going in then too.’
After having more or less been chucked out of Judy’s workshop too, Bella – feeling guilty at not having seen her since the baby shower – called Maddy.
‘Are you at the farmhouse?’
‘I am. Up to my neck in festival stuff but come and have lunch with me. I’m starving.’
Bella hesitated.
‘Charlie’s not here,’ Maddy reassured her. ‘He’s in London all day schmoozing potential sponsors.’
‘Yum,’ said Maddy. ‘I don’t know how I got through life until now without pineapple on my pizza.’
‘It’s gross,’ complained Bella, who had got herself a Four Seasons. ‘Pregnancy has turned you into a food monster stroke dustbin-like person.’
‘It’s turned me into an eating machine,’ complained Maddy. ‘I’m never not hungry. This baby has me possessed. She’s going to come out with a slice of pineapple and ham pizza in her gob.’
‘Tell her not to come out just yet. How long have you got?’
‘She’s due in late August. Just in time for the festival, but she’ll be late. Simon says first babies usually are.’
‘But what if she comes on time? Or early?’
‘It’s fine,’ said Maddy, with her mouth full. ‘In a few days, I’ll do some massive “handover” notes just in case. I’d do it now, but – frankly – I’m barely on top of all this myself. It’s eye-of-the-storm time.’ She made a sweeping gesture with her arm at all the papers, laptops, printers and boxes of merchandise that occupied every surface including the floor. ‘Everything’s all in my head, though,’ she went on. ‘I just need to not be hit by a bus or anything for a few more days.’
‘I feel the same about The Grange. We’re right in the thick of the final stage. It’s going to be amazing, but I’ve got so much going on about colours, fabrics, finishes, doorknobs … almost all of it is custom-made … I feel like my head’s going to explode.’
‘Biggest, coolest project yet, though, eh?’ prompted Maddy with a wicked, irrepressible grin.
‘Yeah,’ said Bella, grinning back.
‘We’re at the height of our powers, girl. We’re on fire.’
‘Will you do this again?’ said Bella.
‘Damned right I will. This festival is going to be the mutt’s nuts. It’s going to be heaven on earth. It’s going to be the best damned boutique festival in the summer calendar. It’ll put Havenbury on the map, that’s for sure. And it’s us! Who knew?’
Bella sighed with contentment. Her fists loosening just a little. Maddy was right. They were both achieving amazing things and maybe Rufus was right, that she should uproot and follow her interior decorating star in London. With The Grange under her belt and a success, she would be picking and choosing her next projects. She could get an assistant. Maybe a couple of them to help with sourcing and administration. It was what she wanted for her little company. It was why she had set it up, despite Charlie’s lack of faith in her. Wasn’t it?
Maddy was grimacing and clutching the edge of the table.
‘What?’ said Bella, alarmed.
‘Nothing, nothing,’ she said, her voice tight and tense, ‘just a bit of a stomach protest at the pineapple pizza …’
‘Seriously? Looks worse than a bit of heartburn.’
‘Okay, maybe plus one of those practice contraction thingies … Braxton Hicks?’
‘Aren’t they supposed to be painless?’
‘Not when they’re combined with indigestion. I tell you, girl, this pregnancy lark isn’t for sissies.’
Bella looked on anxiously as Maddy continued to grip the table and stare at her plate with intense concentration. After a few breaths she visibly relaxed.
‘There,’ she said. ‘Fine now … where were we?’
‘I think you were telling me the baby wasn’t due for weeks, that only you knew what was currently going on but that you were probably going to jot down a few handover notes when you could be bothered,’ said Bella with an innocent expression on her face.
‘I’m fine,’ said Maddy, with emphasis. ‘Did you see these amazing T-shirts? There’s this incredible local artist who did the logo, Fergus Bettany?’
‘Oh my God, I’m sure I was at school with him. Beaky-looking, thick glasses?’
‘No glasses, but, yeah, about our age, quite fanciable I thought …’
‘Can’t be the Fergus I remember, then. These are beautiful,’ breathed Bella, picking up a T-shirt that was printed across the front, including the sleeves, with daubs of vibrant colour, running almost imperceptibly through all the hues of the rainbow with whited-out letters twining their way through the middle. Only at a distance could you make out the word ‘Havenbury’, with the initial impression being of some sort of twining plant or sea creature. ‘It’s really buff, so natural and, sort of, ethereal, isn’t it?’
‘That’s what we wanted,’ said Maddy, clapping her hands excitedly. ‘Flora’s amazing, she’s developing all these wild ideas … there’s a hot tub in the middle of the woods, a huge willow canopy leading into the sleep section, we’re having these luxury yurts with Turkish carpets and lanterns … it’s going to be really magical. As well as all the music of course, check out the line-up it’s …’ Maddy started walking over to a pile of brochures on the table but then stopped, bent over and clutched her stomach.
‘Grrrrrr,’ came the noise from deep within her, followed by some quick, shallow panting.
‘Mads? What the hell?’
‘Gaaaaaaaah,’ wailed Maddy, staring at Bella with horror, her eyes wide with fright.
‘Maddy …?’ Bella stood helplessly rubbing her friend’s back. After what seemed an age, she straightened slightly and let out a sigh of relief. ‘What the …?’ she said, in awe. ‘That was … like …’
‘A contraction?’ finished Bella, grimly.
‘Nooooo, can’t be …’
‘And yet …’
‘But I’ve got weeks!’
‘Or not. Where’s Ben?’
‘In the States,’ wailed Maddy. ‘I made him go. It’s a conference about PTSD. They love him over there with all his military PTSD knowledge. The fee was huge, we thought it would come in handy, what with the baby and everything.’
‘Okay, so,’ said Bella, leading Maddy to a chair and making her sit down. ‘We need a plan. Where is your midwife?’
‘Good idea,’ said Maddy, grabbing her phone. ‘I’ll send her a text. She’ll know what to do.’ She tapped out a message rapidly and then put the phone back down on the table, staring at it as if it was a rattlesnake.
‘How long will she take to get back?’
‘Dunno. Couple of hours?’
‘Brilliant. Not. Plan B?’
‘Not sure I’ve got a Plan B.’
‘Hospital?’
‘No! Don’t want to go without Ben. Also, we’re supposed to have a home birth. Also, it might not be real … argh!’ Maddy stared into space again, gripping Bella’s hand fiercely.
Time stood still while Maddy battled with her internal demons, rocking and moaning as the pain tore through her.
‘So,’ said Bella, when Maddy relaxed again. ‘Looks a bit real to me.’ Then she had a thought.
‘Simon,’ she said. ‘Come on. And for God’s sake text Ben on the way.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Glancing at her watch, Bella was acutely aware that their GP, Simon, would not necessarily be at the surgery. That said, his practice was a one-man band and he was such a hard worker he generally was. The main challenge was getting past his scary receptionist who generally required copious amounts of blood or deep coma to consider her exalted boss to be worthy of interruption.
They were in luck. As Bella was trying to manhandle Maddy out of her little car with a contraction kicking in midway, Simon came out of the surgery carrying his bag. Weighing up the situation, he ran over to help, adding an aura of calm to the rapidly increasing stress of the situation.
‘Exciting times,’ he said to Maddy, encouragingly.
She gave him an incredulous look and then ignored him.
‘How long and how often?’ he asked Bella.
‘Dunno,’ she said, helplessly. ‘Sorry … but, definitely long and often. And getting worse.’
‘Can you please explain to Mrs Hollins that I am delayed but will get to her as soon as I can,’ said Simon as they went in the door in a huddle of arms and legs.
‘Shall I call an ambulance, Doctor?’ said the frosty, helmet-haired woman behind the desk. ‘Surely this is a case for the maternity ward?’
‘Possibly, Mrs Jackson,’ he smiled. ‘But it’s us this patient has come to needing help, so I think we will take a little look, don’t you?’
‘Don’t let her in,’ said Maddy, loudly, to Simon’s amusement, although he tactfully turned his head away, so Mrs Jackson couldn’t see him laughing.
‘You’re quite safe,’ he said, closing the door behind them both and leading Maddy to the examination couch. ‘At least, I take it you meant Mrs Jackson and not Bella. Now, I hate to ask, but could you bear it if I quickly examined you?’
Maddy, meantime, was showing no sign of having heard but was yanking off her trousers and clambering inelegantly onto the couch, where she crouched on all fours, rocking and moaning her way through another contraction.
‘I’ll take that as a “yes”,’ he said to Bella, with a confidence-inspiring smile.
‘Right,’ he said, pulling off the latex gloves and washing his hands. ‘You’re definitely in labour so there’s no going back now. That said, don’t panic, you’ve got a few hours to go yet.’
‘Hours?’ complained Maddy. ‘I can’t do that. Will it get worse?’
‘Yes, you can, and yes it will. That said, you’ll feel an awful lot better when we get you somewhere a bit more comfortable. How many weeks, remind me?’ he said, tapping at his screen, to bring up her records.
‘Ah yes, not due quite yet but thirty-six weeks is far from a disaster. Home birth, I see … mmm … not sure about that, with a first child and with this slight prematurity. The staff at the new birthing unit are brilliant, though. Home from home and the full medical works right next door if you need it, which I’m sure you won’t. I’m going to give them a call, if you don’t mind?’
