Page 78 of The Christmas Fayre on Holly Field

‘Nothing to eat, thanks. Look, Pen, is Harriet all right?’

Pen’s expression was pained. ‘Er, you’d better ask her yourself.’

‘That’s the problem. I can’t. I’ve been trying to get hold of her but she’s not replying to my messages and she’s not answering her phone.’

‘Oh dear. She will. Give her some time.’

‘Why does she need time?’ Owen was genuinely perplexed.

‘I shouldn’t have said anything.’ Pen was looking uneasy, which worried him even more.

‘You know how I feel about her,’ he said quietly. ‘I was hoping she was beginning to feel the same way.’

‘She does. I’m sure of it,’ Pen said earnestly. ‘But…’

‘She doesn’t want to take it any further.’ Disappointment washed over him, swiftly followed by despair. ‘It’s OK, I can take a hint,’ he said. ‘My van’s fixed so I’ll be on my way.’

He was almost at the door, his heart heavy and a lump in his throat, when Pen called, ‘Wait a minute.’

She hurried over. ‘I shouldn’t be saying this, but there was a bit of a problem at the birthday party yesterday. Sara wore the dress Harriet had bought from the boot sale, but – you’re not going to believe this – it used to belong to the very girl whose party it was. The girl called Sara out about it. As you can imagine, Sara was terribly upset and Harriet is blaming herself.’

‘I see.’ Owen saw everything in a flash – the reason why Harriet was blanking him was because she blamed him for putting her daughter in this situation. ‘It’s my fault,’ he said, accepting full responsibility.

He should have realised that in a small place like Foxmore, any item being sold locally might be bought by someone who knew the seller. He should have warned her this might happen, especially since he knew Harriet didn’t want Sara to find out where she was buying her ‘new’ clothes.

When he said as much to Pen, she tutted. ‘Although Darlene goes to the same school, she lives some miles away, so I highly doubt if the boot sale in Foxmore is the nearest one to her. And Harriet hadn’t met either Darlene or her mother, so she couldn’t have known she was buying the blasted dress off her.’

‘Does she hate me?’

‘No, she does not. She might be beating herself up because she put Sara in such a position, and she might wish she had never taken you up on the challenge, but she doesn’t hate you. If you ask me, I think she’s in love with you. I’m only telling you this because I think you’re in love with her, too. There, I’ve said my piece. If you tell Harriet what I said, I’ll deny every word. Go.’ She pushed him towards the door. ‘Talk to her. Sort it out. It’s not the end of the world: she’ll come round. This time next week, you’ll be wondering what all the fuss was about.’

Owen left, his mind racing and his heart thumping.

No wonder Harriet was cross with him, but as Pen said, it wasn’t the end of the world. If she cared for him as much as he cared for her, they could surely sort this out.

He was just about to knock on Harriet’s door when he sensed someone behind him and he whirled around. A woman of around the same age as Harriet was regarding him curiously.

‘Are you the infamous Owen?’ she asked. ‘We’ve never met but I’ve seen you around. I’m Kelly, a friend of Harriet’s. Our daughters are in the same class. Have you come to give her some moral support?’

‘Yes, I’m Owen,’ he confirmed. ‘I’ll, um, go. I can call back later. I don’t want to intrude.’

‘I’m sure you won’t be,’ she said, and before he could object, she rang the doorbell and Harriet was suddenly standing in front of him. She didn’t look happy.

‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded. ‘Not you, Kelly.Him.’

‘Harriet!’ Kelly cried. ‘He’s come to give you some moral support.’

‘If it wasn’t for Owen, I wouldn’t need any.’

Owen gave her a sad smile, his heart breaking. ‘It’s OK, I’ll go. Sorry, Harriet. I’d give anything for this not to have happened.’

‘You’ve heard then? I suppose it’s all over the village,’ Harriet snapped.

‘Pen told me. I called into the cafe because I was worried about you. You hadn’t read my messages and you didn’t answer your phone.’

‘She wasn’t in any fit state to speak to anyone last night,’ Kelly explained. ‘You were a bit tipsy, weren’t you, lovely? I bet you had a stinker of a headache this morning.’ She held up a bag. ‘I brought cake. Let us in and I’ll put the kettle on.’ Kelly pushed past her and trotted into the hall.

Owen hung back. ‘I truly am so sorry,’ he said. ‘How’s Sara?’

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