Page 34 of Snowflakes at the Little Christmas Tree Farm
He hands Fiona a coffee cup and a biscuit too, and I focus on the way he touches her elbow and turns towards her as he sits down. She gives him a shy smile that’s completely at odds with her loud voice and outfit.
‘Noel certainly kept you quiet,’ Fergus says. ‘I didn’t realise he was seeing anybody.’
‘Oh, we’re not—’
‘Oooh!’ Fiona squeaks. ‘He didn’t tell me you were his girlfriend! What a lovely couple you make!’
Fiona’s squeak has attracted Noel’s attention and now he’s looking over at us.
‘We’re really not—’
‘About time too,’ Fergus interrupts. ‘He’s such a good chap, he deserves someone to take care of him after he does so much for everyone else, and he’s been alone for so long now, we were starting to think he wouldn’t find anyone after that evil woman broke his poor heart.’
‘We’re not … What evil woman?’ My curiosity gets the better of me. I can set them straight in a minute.
‘That horrible stuck-up one who came back from the city with him years ago. A right hoity-toity cow who thought she was so much better than all of us, and Noel’s so down to earth, we could never work out what he saw in her. All she did was take advantage of him. Still, the poor bugger was destroyed when she left. No wonder he hates city-types now.’
Oh, great. What the heck does he think I am then? ‘Which city?’
‘London,’ they say in unison, like there’s only one city in the whole of the UK.
‘Noel was in London?’ I ask in surprise. I look over at him and he raises a questioning eyebrow. He knows he’s being talked about.
‘He lived there for quite a while, a good few years ago now mind, but he wouldn’t go back again – he’s got nothing but contempt for the place now.’
‘Well, that might explain his grumpiness,’ I mutter to myself, surprised by this revelation. Noel doesn’t seem like a city dweller at all. He seems to fit so well in the countryside that I assumed he’d been here all his life.
They both laugh at the mention of Noel’s grumpiness. ‘You mustn’t take him seriously. He’s so busy at this time of year that he barely has time to breathe, he forgets to eat most days because he’s so busy helping everyone else.’
‘You’ll be good for him,’ Fergus says. ‘He needs someone to share the burden with.’
Fergus seems to have a knack for saying things that are impossible to ignore. ‘Burden?’
‘Well, how hard he works for the farm, and looking after his mum, and everything he does for the community. It takes its toll on him but he’ll never let it show. It’ll do him good to have someone to open up to.’
That doesn’t sound like Noel at all, at least not the Noel I’ve seen so far. I look over at him as he takes money from a customer and puts two pumpkins into a bag for her. ‘We’re not together.’
‘Are you single?’ Fiona demands.
‘Yeah, but …’
Her face lights up like she’s just connected to the National Grid. ‘There you go, then. You won’t find a better man than Noel.’
I can’t help the laugh. ‘Even if I was looking, which I’mnot, he’s not … I mean, I’m sure he’s a nice bloke. He makes me laugh, and he’s kind, but he’s made it very clear what he thinks of me and I’ve just got out of a relationship that wasn’t a relationship at all, and …’ I stop myself quickly because I’ve said too much. I don’t want to give these two any more gossip. No doubt my relationship status will be all round the market by eleven o’clock at the latest.
That little hint of personal information sets Fiona off and she starts gossiping again. Fergus hobbles across to serve someone who starts poking through his gingerbread ukuleles, and I start edging slowly back towards the pumpkin stall, feeling a bit uncomfortable with how quickly gossip spreads.
As the hours move on, I can’t believe how busy it is. One crate of pumpkins is empty, and a second one is well on its way there. Of the edible goodies that Glenna made, only a couple of jars of jam are left, and I’ve lost track of how many customers have heard the news about Peppermint Branches and come over to tell me how much they miss it being there on the outskirts of Elffield and how much they’re looking forward to visiting again this year. A little thrill starts burning inside me. If even half of these people really do come to buy their Christmas tree from me this year, that’s a good twenty sales I’ve made already. It’s not a lot, but it’s a start.
I actually get quite into serving customers, watching as Noel carves pumpkins for display and puts battery-operated tealights inside them, enjoying the way people pore over the crates of pumpkins to select the perfect specimen. I wonder about selling Christmas trees here. It’s a gorgeous place, the atmosphere is laidback and cheerful, and there’s Christmas music pumping quietly from a speaker near the back. I’m quite disappointed when Noel’s full-time employee turns up to take over at ten o’clock.
‘Hold on, you two!’
We turn to see Fergus hobbling across the market lane on his walking stick, somehow managing to carry two pies. ‘Have either of you eaten a mince pie yet this year?’
Noel and I both shake our heads.
‘Oh, thank god.’ Fergus lets out a sigh of relief as he thrusts a mince pie at us both. ‘Here, your first one of the season. You have to make a wish as you bite into it. It’s tradition.’
