Page 44 of All Wrapped Up
‘For good?’
‘I’ve adopted her,’ I proudly announced.
‘Adopted her?’ Dad said. ‘But when you had her before, you said you were looking after her for a friend.’
‘I was,’ I agreed, then explained Pixie’s previously sad circumstances.
‘Well,’ sniffed Mum. ‘She couldn’t have ended up with anyone better than you, could she, love? You know what she’s going through because you’ve been there yourself.’
Dad put his arm around Mum and I wished that I was there with them and could do the same. I wouldn’t have minded a hug myself.
‘Exactly,’ I said briskly, giving Pixie a squeeze. ‘I’m hopeful I can help her through her sadness. In fact,’ I smiled, as she licked my chin, ‘I think I already am.’
‘Well, that’s wonderful, my love,’ said Dad. ‘What lovely news to start the day with.’
‘And that’s not my only headline,’ I added, as I put Pixie down and she wandered into the kitchen. ‘You remember the town event I mentioned that was on, then off?’
‘Yes,’ my parents chorused.
‘Well,’ I said, taking a deep breath as I refused to feel daunted by the mountain of notes waiting for my attention, ‘it’s on again. Properly this time and I’m in charge of organising it.’
Dad was agog.
‘What, the whole thing?’ Mum gasped.
‘Pretty much,’ I laughed. ‘I’m going to have a bit of help, but I’m responsible for the scheduling and advertising and the overall managing of it.’
‘My goodness.’ Dad grinned. ‘And can you finally tell us what the event is?’
‘I can,’ I said, sitting up straighter. ‘It’s called the Wynbridge Autumn Festival and it’s going to involve a whole series of events to celebrate the season.’
‘In the heart of pumpkin country.’ Mum clapped. ‘How absolutely perfect.’
‘It hopefully will be, Mum,’ I agreed. ‘The idea for it originally came from a local farmer who sadly died and didn’t get the chance to see it come to fruition. This will be the first time it’s happened.’
‘And the woman taking it on just happens to be obsessed with autumn,’ chimed in Dad. ‘It’s bound to be top notch with you in charge, my love. I know you’ll do the farmer proud.’
That was what Lizzie had reckoned, too, so I hoped they were both right and I could pull it off successfully.
‘Thanks, Dad. I’ll email you the schedule as soon as I’ve gotit sorted,’ I promised. ‘And then we can work out the best time for you to come.’
Mum and Dad loved the sound of that and after further cooing over Pixie who took their attention with good grace, I signed off and set to, working through the many pages of meeting notes. Once I’d arranged them into piles according to what everyone was offering, I then printed out blank calendar pages for September, October and November.
It was exciting to have things to immediately fill in, such as the launch date and times when the town would be decorated in readiness for it. After adding those, however, it was all a bit trickier to work out as I had to add events according to when the people offering to hold them were available to organise and run them.
I pencilled in any significant dates such as the equinox, the best time to see the Draconid meteor shower (weather permitting, of course), bonfire night, Halloween and half term and then further filled in as much as I could, making sure there was a balance of everything, with no long gaps anywhere and then, conversely, not too many things, especially if they were similar, clustered together.
The combination of practical craft workshops, outdoor nature events, reading opportunities, food and drink celebrations, special market days and pumpkin competitions, struck exactly the right chord with me and I hoped everyone who wanted to attend, though not Jason who had now been barred from The Mermaid, would be in agreement.
I also hoped all of the businesses I’d offered spots to would be able to stick to them as it would be tricky to change things around without having a knock-on effect.
‘As long as everyone goes along with the dates they gaveme last night,’ I said to Pixie, who was eagerly making her presence felt, ‘then I don’t think we’ll have any issues. Now, what’s up with you?’
As I went to stroke her, my tummy gave the loudest rumble and I realised exactly what was up with her.
‘It’s almost two o’clock, Pixie,’ I gasped. ‘We’ve missed lunch!’
I fed her first, then quickly scrambled some eggs, grilled some cherry tomatoes and toasted a slice of sourdough to stave off my own pangs. An email from Hayley, suggesting we could meet in the town library at ten thirty the next day so she could show me, rather than send me, what she’d come up with for the festival branding, landed while I was eating and I messaged Ash in the hope that he would be able to join us.
