Page 26 of Once Upon a Thyme
I was running already, leaving Mika, leaving that lovely, almost-suggested date and belting down the path to where Big Pig was happily trundling her bulk along the centre of the garden. Tessa had jumped onto the pond surround and was clutching her arms around herself as though the presence of a pig might cause her to shatter.Simon was sheltering behind an obelisk. The remaining band members had fled to the cottage, where they were clustering in the doorway with worried looks over their shoulders at the encroaching creature. Big Pig looked very satisfied with herself for making everyone panic, and stopped to stick her snout into the parsley bed for a good root.
I reached her at the same time as Zeb did. ‘The gates were shut,’ he said, out of breath. ‘Definitely.’
‘I thought they were.’ I looked at him suspiciously. I knewIhadn’t left a gate open.
‘You were there. Did they look shut to you?’
We stood either side of Big Pig, who had now dug a little trough all along the edge of the border, and was happily chewing something that made her dribble green.
‘Get her bucket. We’ll have to lure her back in.’ I wasn’t going to discuss how the gate got left open, not when sharp trotters were digging up the gravel and Simon was making little squeaky noises from behind the woven wire of the ornamental planter he was inadequately sheltering behind.
‘She might just follow me.’ Zeb slapped Big Pig on her ample rump. ‘Come on, girl. This way.’ He gave me a quick smile. ‘She likes me,’ he said, as the pig’s head came up, ears a-tremble with anticipation of a better snack than parsley. ‘Come on. Let’s find you some proper food.’
He set off along the path and Big Pig, after a reluctant last mouthful, snorted and went after him, jogging along with her tail twitching in expectation of a bucket of pellets.
‘That’shorrible,’ said Tessa, from on top of the pond wall.
Simon waited until we heard the clang of the gate closing before he emerged. ‘It was rather disruptive,’ he said, smoothing his hair back and trying to dislodge a bee, which was taking rather too close an interest in his floral shirt.
‘Horrible,’ repeated Tessa and flung herself at Mika, who came strolling towards us wearing a huge smile. ‘Did you see? There was apigloose!’
Mika scooped her into an embrace. ‘I saw, Tessa. I don’t think it was dangerous though.’
I was just relieved that Big Pig had gone after Zeb without complaint or reluctance. Maybe she was bored in her barn, all this activity going on out here while she languished in her straw?
‘It’s gone now,’ Mika reassured Tessa. A momentary flare of jealousy spiked my heart rate; a few minutes ago he’d been almost asking me out, now he was here treating all this as entertainment, hugging his bandmate and smiling that unconcerned, amiable smile that was so attractive.
‘Well.’ Simon finally rid himself of the bee. ‘Perhaps, if you’d all grab your lunch now and we can do some still shots afterwards, while the sun is shining? I want to get some stuff up online this evening, get the promo boys putting up the trailers.’
When Mika didn’t suggest that I join them for lunch, I gathered what remaining dignity I had, and went back to my kitchen.
9
Unfortunately for my desire to sit around brooding and remembering Mika’s touch and his suggestion of a meal together, the shop was busy that afternoon. Whether it was people wanting to come and catch a glimpse of The Goshawk Traders or whether they genuinely decided that herbs would be the perfect addition to their décor, I found myself advising on and selling copious bunches and posies and statement stems. None of the customers seemed disappointed at not being able to pick their own fresh herbs and there was a degree of loitering in the car park that led me to believe that herbs might not have been their main reason for travelling the dusty incline. I reminded myself to be grateful that they had arrived and were willing to spend money, and the band were largely invisible anyway, the lighting in the cottage meaning that they had decided to redo this morning’s ‘tea’ shots when the sun shone full through the windows.
It was nice to be busy, to be able to forget Mika and his dark twinkling eyes, Zeb and Big Pig, my mother’s sudden interest in my turnover and the mice in the cottage beams. Here, with a willing crowd actively wanting to spend money, I could be Tallie. I could educate, inform and, more importantly, ring cards through the till to the extent that I could envisage the bills being paid at the end of the month rather than wrapped around the year with little bits of money being thrown here and there. A good turnover day would mean a little extra money for Mum too which might be enough for her to lose interest in trying to improve my income. Her obsessions never usually lasted for long anyway. The only one which had, was me.
I watched the last couple leave the car park as the sun bent the shadows over the roof of the shop and laid them gently across the gravel, and enjoyed the sudden silence. There was nobody anywhere in evidence, all I could hear were the swifts peeping from their upturned bucket nests in the eaves outside and I could enjoy my acres without…
‘Oh, there you are!’
‘God, Zeb, you made me jump!’ Zeb, who had been emptying the wheelbarrow, evidently having mucked out Big Pig, emerged from the shadows, barrow first. I’d been so far gone in my reverie of trailing hands through the herbs and the way Mika’s curls bounced around his face, that I hadn’t heard him coming. ‘I’ve been in the shop. Working. Selling stuff. You know, doing what I’m supposed to.’
He nodded, gravely. There was straw all down his front. ‘Good. How were the takings?’
‘Excellent. And nobody got to see the band, so I suspect many of them will suddenly discover that they need more yarrow heads for their downstairs bathroom décor, and be back.’
‘Lovely.’ The barrow went down on its rest. The whole thing needed a good clean, I noticed, there were clumps of muck sticking to the base. I ought to take to it with the hosepipe.
Then I wondered why I was noticing the state of the wheelbarrow when I’d got a world-famous band in my kitchen and Zeb standing right in front of me. Was this my life now? Excitement breaking out all over and I was the one standing out here worrying about pig muck?
‘You look very pensive.’ Zeb’s voice floated through my musing. ‘Wondering how to spend today’s takings? Because the handle on this is loose, look.’ He wiggled the barrow handle, which was, indeed, loose. ‘So I think that’s a priority spend.’
‘Ollie can fix it,’ I said, still lost in my realisation that I was all about the quotidian and normality. ABBA and the Beatles could have been hosting an, all right extremely unlikely and probably quite spooky, get-together in the kitchen and I’dstillbe out here worrying about sluicing pig poo off a wheelbarrow. Why couldn’t I get excited about what was happening instead of worrying about incipient rust? ‘When this is over and he’s back.’
‘Ah yes, Ollie.’ Zeb leaned comfortably against the fence. ‘I know he’s a good worker, but wouldn’t you be better off with someone who can actually, you know,talkto customers? Serve in the shop when you’re not here?’
That jerked me out of my self-study. ‘What? No! Ollie’s great. He knows every kind of herb, he knows where they grow best and he’s a master of the compost. Just because he’s a bit socially awkward, that doesn’t make him a waste of space you know.’
