Page 60 of Christmas at Hollybush Farm
Josh is there, talking to people carrying in new furniture from a big truck. It’s exactly the same as the furniture in their other shops.
‘Hey!’ she calls. ‘Hey!’ Owen, Evie, Llew and I are all behind her, at a distance, with no idea how to help.
‘Is that it? You just wanted to talk to me to find out what sells well? Try the potatoes and see how much people like them. Is that why you got us to open the lorry outside the café? Were we product-testing for you? You thought you’d see how much business wecould rustle up, then steal our ideas and customers!’ she shouts, as she stalks up to him, ignoring the driver trying to get a signature for safe delivery of goods. He sensibly steps two paces back from Mae and her wrath.
‘No.’ Josh holds up his hands. ‘It was quite the opposite. I was trying to tell my bosses what a great job you’d been doing here. I told them about you and how they needed to keep you on. I showed the pictures of the queues the two of you had rustled up and how people were talking about your food on social media. I didn’t mean any of this to happen.’
Mae looks at the menu on the door of the café. ‘New specials coming to Coffi Poeth, jacket potatoes with a variety of fillings.’ She turns back to him. ‘Well, all you’ve done is nicked my idea.’
‘I’m sorry. Your idea was excellent, to serve a brilliant fast food that’s healthier, more filling and easy to make. I was trying to bring some ideas to the table. Stand out a bit, I suppose.’
‘And? Did you?’ Mae asks crossly.
He hesitates. ‘Well, they were impressed. They think it’s a big thing. They saw the social-media feed.’
‘And?’
‘And’ – he swallows – ‘they want to roll it out in their other cafés.’
‘So, I’ve been thrown out of my job. You encouraged me to showcase what I’ve been selling out here onthe street and now your bosses want a piece of the action. I suppose you got a nice Christmas bonus for suggesting it!’
He bites his bottom lip. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I really didn’t. I thought if I told them how well you were doing, they’d want to keep you on and not lose you. I was impressed. I wanted to help.’
‘But you didn’t, did you?’ She puts her hands higher on her hips.
He slowly shakes his head.
‘They like the idea.’ He meets her gaze. ‘But say they can save a lot by not employing anyone until they’re ready to open in the new year.’
For a moment Mae drops her eyes and says nothing, then slowly raises her head and her chin. Her face is furious. None of us moves.
‘Urghhhh!’ She lets out a roar of frustration, leans forward and stamps on his toe. ‘Not sorry!’ she says, and storms past us towards the old cattle market.
I stand, mouth open. Definitely not Mousy Mae any more. ‘Mae, wait,’ I call, and catch her up. ‘You okay?’
‘No, I’m furious!’
I hurry to keep up with her. ‘There’s not a lot we can do about them.’
‘Well, we’ll just have to sell more than they do!’ she shouts. ‘And make sure no one wants to go there when they open.’
‘Mae!’ I say, trying to keep up with her.
‘We need to make sure that we sell shedloads. Let everyone know where we are, and that we were here first!’ she says.
‘I agree. Bigger and better. Festive too. Let’s do it!’ I say. I’m a little excited and sad at the same time: what I thought might be the start of a lovely friendship, or even more than that, for Mae has been blown out of the water.
26
We’re in Christmas hats from the supermarket, and Llew has been out to get more fairy lights. With the lorry lit up like Santa’s grotto and Christmas music playing from my phone, we look at each other, Llew, Dad, Myfanwy, with her Welsh-cake orders on a small table she’s brought from her hallway, Owen, Mae, Evie and me.
‘Ready, everyone?’
They nod. I take a deep breath and lift my phone. I know what I’m doing. My employers made it very clear that if I didn’t stop there would be no turning back. They’d withdraw the new job offer and terminate my employment. But, call it mid-life madness or whatever you like, I can’t stand by and watch big companies swallowing little ones any more. The independents are trying to make a living, trying topay their bills, and this is the only way I know how to help. I press ‘live’.
‘Hi, everyone. Just to let you know we’re still selling jacket potatoes and cawl, and we’re here in the lorry on the cattle market for today. Come and see us and say hi! Give us a wave, a thumbs-up or a share, and the first person here today to see us gets a free meal,’ I say, checking Mae, who nods.
‘Anything you like!’ she shouts.
