Page 94 of Rough Around the Hedges

“Well, she does run yoga classes, so she’s offering some during the craft fair.”

First, it was just a fruit and vegetable stall.

Then, it was local businesses and artists.

Now, there were yoga classes.

Were we organising a market or a summer festival?

Something told me I really shouldn’t voice that particular question, lest I jinx it.

It wouldn’t surprise me if we ended up with a week-long soiree, complete with a bucking bull ride, giant noughts and crosses, and candy bloody floss stalls.

Two knocks sounded at the open door followed by a very unwelcome, “Am I interrupting?”

I narrowed my eyes and swung my attention towards the interloper. “If you have to ask, then the answer is yes.”

Oliver cocked his head to the side. “Forgive me, but you appear rather confused by whatever it is you’re looking at.”

“Well, at this very moment, I find myself confused by your appearance,” I replied, quickly turning my back on him. “I guess we’ll just roll with it,” I said to Deb, handing her back the list. “Are you still all right to co-ordinate all this? If you need some help—”

She waved her hand, cutting me off. “I’ve got your mum, and my daughter is giving me a hand, although she did wonder if we could get goats for the yoga.”

“You’ll have to ask the yoga lady. I’m afraid I’m more of a chicken girl. Though if anyone has planned a petting zoo, I’d be happy to offer up the gang.”

Deb tapped her chin. “The bread rolls would be a great addition for the kids. I’ll see what I can do!”

“That wasn’t a request!” I called after her as she quickly ran away, pausing only to stare intimidatingly up at Oliver on her way out of the door.

He glanced over his shoulder, pointing in her direction. “Is she… okay?”

“She’s fine. She just dislikes you immensely,” I said brightly. “To what do I owe the displeasure of your visit?”

“I need to visit a garden centre.”

“Hollyhock Garden Centre, fourteen-point-seven miles away as the crow flies, open seven days a week from eighty thirty a.m. until six p.m., except on Sundays, when it’s ten ’til four per the law,” I reeled off. “Off you pop.”

He slowly ran his tongue over his teeth, staring at me blankly. “Could you come with me?”

“I could.”

“Now?”

“I said I could, not that I would.”

Oliver sighed. “Would you come with me?”

“I would, but I never said that I will.”

“For the love of God, Rose.”

“You’re the one not asking the right question, Oliver.”

“Never mind asking, I’m half-tempted to haul you into the car and take you no matter what you say.”

I clicked my pen and put it back in the pot. “That would be kidnapping, and that’s against the law.”

“As if anyone who kidnapped you would be successful. Kidnappers wouldn’t charge a ransom for you go home, they’dpayit.”

---