Wish Upon a Star (16 page)

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Authors: Trisha Ashley

BOOK: Wish Upon a Star
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‘Here, did you say the hospital was in Boston?’ Mrs Snowball interrupted suddenly.

‘Yes,’ I said.

‘Well, then – our Jenny’s boy, Kevin, and his family live near there and she goes to visit all the time. She can go with them, and no need to buy her a ticket.’

‘That’s a very kind offer,’ Raffy said warmly. ‘I’m sure you all know that Jenny, Florrie’s daughter, is a retired nurse? We can discuss the arrangements later, but I feel we should certainly pay her return air fare.’

A strange, dragon-like hissing emanating from the door of the annexe, which had been growing ever louder for the last ten minutes, suddenly subsided and a woman stuck her head out and shouted, ‘Tea’s up!’ before vanishing again.

‘The ladies of the WI have kindly made us some refreshments, if you’d all like to go through to the annexe,’ Raffy said.

‘And perhaps you could all write down your names and contact details and give them to Laurence or Effie while you’re having your tea,’ Hebe suggested.

‘Including email addresses, if you have them,’ Laurence added quickly. He sounded like a bit of a silver surfer.

We let the first stampede go, then I led the way to where Celia and Will were waiting by the door. Effie Yatton was already there, taking down the contact details for anyone attempting a quick getaway.

‘Sorry we have to dash, only one of the dogs has been a bit off colour and I don’t want to be out too long,’ Celia said, giving me a hug and Jago an appraising look, followed by a warm smile. ‘But it was a great meeting and I’m positive the money will be raised now.’

‘I’m just really grateful you could both come,’ I told her, before introducing Jago to them and to Miss Yatton, who was hovering interestedly.

‘I’ve heard about your macaroon shop,’ Will said. ‘No free samples on you, I suppose?’

‘Afraid not,’ Jago replied, grinning. ‘But I’ll give some to Cally to pass on next time she comes to the shop and then you can try them out.’

‘You are
so
cheeky,’ Celia chided Will.

‘I bought some and they’re delicious,’ Miss Yatton put in. ‘Everyone was talking about them, so I simply had to.’

‘I thought I’d seen you before,’ Jago said to her, ‘I’m glad you enjoyed them. They’re my friend David’s speciality really and it’s his shop. I’m just helping him set up, but once his fiancée can move up here, I’ll be able to find premises for my own business.’

Miss Yatton was clearly soaking all this news up like a sponge. ‘Around here, I hope?’ she said. ‘What is
your
speciality?’

I left him describing the intricacies of croquembouche to her, which was likely to take some time, while I saw Celia and Will off. Then, when I got back, luckily someone else tried to escape without leaving their details and Miss Yatton abandoned Jago and leaped away in pursuit like a sprightly but elderly whippet, so we seized our chance to make for the annexe.

Hebe Winter and Laurence Yatton cornered Jago in a pincer movement when we came in and were probably interrogating him to within an inch of his life, just as Effie Yatton had done. I expected strangers were a novelty, and Will and Celia would have got the same treatment if they’d been able to stay.

‘That went well, didn’t it?’ Raffy said, smiling benignly down at me when I paused to graze at the cheese sticks next to where he and Chloe were standing. ‘But I knew it would – and we’ll soon have the rest of the money raised, so don’t worry any more about that, Cally.’

‘Yes, we’re all fired up and ready to go now,’ agreed Chloe, who was small, dark, pretty and not yet obviously pregnant.

‘I’m really, really touched that so many people have said they’ll help Stella,’ I said gratefully. ‘You’re all stars.’

‘Stella’s stars,’ Jago agreed, having made his escape from Hebe and come to find me.

Chapter 15: What the Dickens?

Jago walked me back, which he’d insisted on, even after I’d assured him that villages didn’t get safer than Sticklepond. Anyway, half the other residents were also heading home from the meeting, though most had set out a little before us.

‘Yes, but your mother’s cottage is quite secluded, isn’t it?’ he said. ‘You have to go up a narrow, dark lane to get to it.’

‘It is a bit, though it’s not isolated, because the lane leads to the Ormerods’ farm, and her friend Hal lives right opposite. There’s a converted barn just beyond Ma’s, too. Ma likes to be quiet and her own company, though actually lately she’s been coming out of herself a bit, which I think is all due to Hal. She’s joined the Gardening Club and even goes to the Green Man for the occasional game of darts in the evening.’

‘A riot of dissipation,’ he observed, grinning.

‘Ottie Winter from the hall pops in sometimes too. She’s older than Ma and a well-known sculptor, and she was instrumental in Ma going to art college in London. They’ve been friends ever since.’

‘Ottie Winter?’

‘Hebe Winter’s identical twin sister, I told you earlier.’

‘You mean there are
two
of them?’ he demanded, looking alarmed.

‘Ottie’s not at all scary,’ I assured him. ‘She lives part of the year in Cornwall and the rest of the time in a converted coach house up at Winter’s End, so she wasn’t there tonight.’

‘There seemed to be enough Winters without her.’

‘I suppose there are,’ I said, thinking about it. ‘As well as Ottie and Hebe, there’s Sophy, their great-niece. She inherited the estate fairly recently and then married Seth Greenwood, the head gardener. He wasn’t there tonight, but Sophy was. Seth also runs his own gardening company; he’s a knot garden specialist.’

‘I have only the vaguest idea what a knot garden is,’ Jago confessed.

‘I’ll have to take you up to Winter’s End one of these days and show you the famous knot garden terraces then. And things get even more complicated with the Winter family relationships, because Seth Greenwood is Ottie’s stepson. The other Winter there tonight was Sophy’s daughter, Lucy. I haven’t actually met her, but Ottie’s told us a lot about her. She’s taking over the management of the Winter’s End estate and she lives in one of the lodges.’

‘How do you know all these things?’

‘I know all about the Winters because of Ottie being Ma’s friend – and I did mention that Hal is under-gardener at Winter’s End, didn’t I?’ I asked, and he groaned.

‘Please, no more! Is everyone in the village linked in some way?’

‘It does seem like it sometimes,’ I admitted. ‘I’m surprised how many people in the area I actually know, or know
about
, considering I’ve only been here on holidays and the occasional weekend, till I moved in. But people do talk to you when you have a dog or a child with you, especially in the local shops.’

By now we were walking up the main street and fewer people were about. Ahead of us were Ivo Hawksley and his wife, Tansy, and beyond them the unmistakable figure of Gregory Lyon escorted Florrie Snowball up the stone step of the Falling Star and then turned and crossed the road to the square-fronted Victorian house attached to the Witchcraft Museum, where he lived. The door opened and shut twice, letting out a bright pool of light, because I think he’d got a fold of his long velvet cloak trapped in it.

Ivo and Tansy entered a patch of dense darkness between the sparse streetlights and suddenly vanished.

‘Hey, where did they go?’ demanded Jago, puzzled.

‘Up Salubrious Passage. It leads to a little courtyard where they live behind Tansy’s specialist wedding shoe shop, Cinderella’s Slippers – see, there’s the sign over the passageway,’ I pointed out as we got near enough to make it out. ‘Ivo used to live next door but once they married, they made it all into one cottage. She has
lovely
shoes,’ I added wistfully.

‘Did you say she specialised in wedding shoes? Sticklepond seems a small village to support a wedding shoe shop, not to mention a specialist chocolate shop,’ Jago commented thoughtfully.

‘I suppose so, but people will come for miles to a specialist wedding shop. And anyway, Sticklepond is booming like a gold rush town. Ever since they found evidence that Shakespeare was connected to Winter’s End, the village is a tourist hotspot, especially in summer.’

I told him the story of all the exciting discoveries that Sophy Winter had made and that there was a history of witchcraft in the area. ‘So now, more and more of the old shops are reopening – and then there’s Gregory Lyon’s Witchcraft Museum, and a tourist trail leaflet called the Sticklepond Saunter.’

‘Tourists won’t impulse-buy wedding shoes, though, will they?’

‘Perhaps not, but there are an awful lot of weddings held at All Angels church. Apart from it being a beautiful old building, I think the idea of being married by Raffy Sinclair is quite an attraction.’

‘Yes, I suppose that would be something special in the wedding album.’

‘Tansy sells vintage shoes and all kinds of shoe-shaped gifts, too, not to mention the
Slipper Monkey
children’s books she writes, which Stella adores. I’ve chatted to her quite a bit when I’ve looked around the shop and she said she advertises in all the wedding magazines and also on the internet. She’d started going to wedding fairs too, before she had Prospero.’


Prospero
?’

‘Their baby. Unusual name, isn’t it? It’s from
The Tempest
, and since Ivo was a Shakespearian actor, I suppose that had something to do with it. You know, Prospero is one of the few boy babies I’ve seen around the village; they mostly seem to be girls.’

‘Perhaps he’s the start of a whole run of boys, then?’

‘Maybe.’

‘So, the wedding shoe business is doing well?’ Jago said, reverting to the topic.

‘Yes. Brides will travel for
miles
for the right shoes, and they can buy wedding favours there too, because she stocks specially made Chocolate Wishes shoes from Chloe Lyon’s shop next to the Witchcraft Museum.’

‘That’s the vicar’s wife, did you say?’

‘Yes, and she’s very nice, though since her grandfather is an avowed pagan and warlock, not to mention being the author of a lot of lurid Dennis Wheatley-style black magic novels, their engagement apparently caused a bit of a kerfuffle.’

‘I expect it did,’ Jago agreed, fascinated.

‘Her Chocolate Wishes always have special messages in them, like a sort of lovely fortune cookie, and she does special chocolate angels to order with an angel card reading inside. She gave me one at Christmas and the message was very positive and uplifting.’

‘I must go there and buy one: I’ve never heard of them before. In fact, I’d like to see both shops. They sound very enterprising.’

‘Tansy has some really sweet little enamelled silver bluebirds, to sew inside wedding dresses for luck: for something blue,’ I explained wistfully, because when I’d seen them I’d really wanted one. ‘A bluebird means happiness too, so they’re extra special. I think all the shoe-related odds and ends pull in any passing trade but most of her customers find her through the bridal magazines and the internet.’

‘Yes, that’s how I thought I’d get orders for my croquembouche, so I don’t need to be in a town and I really don’t want to have a shop too, like David. There’s no one making them in the North-west and though I could only deliver them within about four hours’ travelling time, maximum, that’s still a wide catchment area.’

‘So you could be based anywhere? It would be lovely if you were not too far away,’ I added.

‘Would it?’ he asked, seriously.

‘Of course, because without you there would be no one to talk
serious
cake with,’ I said lightly, but truthfully. It was amazing how quickly I’d come to rely on both his friendship and support …

‘That’s true,’ Jago agreed. ‘I feel just the same and I can’t believe I’ve only known you for less than a fortnight.’ He slipped his arm through mine companionably and smiled down at me as we passed one of the sparse streetlights.

‘What sort of premises are you looking for?’ I asked, smiling back.

‘I need a large preparation area for baking and creating the cakes, and a separate packing room would be good, too. I don’t need a shop front, though if there was one I could use it for display purposes. Oh, and ideally I’d like to live on the premises. Those early morning starts are so much easier if you’re already on the spot.’

‘That’s true! Has no local property caught your eye yet?’

‘I haven’t seriously looked so far, because I’ve been too busy helping David with the Happy Macaroon. The plan was that his fiancée would give up her job in a London hair salon and move up here to help him as soon as the business seemed to be taking off, by which time
I
should have found my own place and moved out – but it took off like a rocket so Sarah’s already handed in her notice.’

‘So you need to get a move on and find somewhere quickly?’

‘Even more so now, because David’s mother, who’s worked as a shop assistant in a bakery in Southport for more than thirty years, has just been told they’re closing down and all the staff will be made redundant. So she’s going to be working in the shop full time soon and they really won’t need me any more.’

‘We’d better get looking quickly then, and find you somewhere of your own!’

‘I think I’d like to be in a village,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘David will keep my model in his window and take any orders, so I’ll still have that connection when I start up, and if he is run off his feet with macaroon orders, I can help him. In fact, he’s been asked so many times if he does traditional iced wedding cakes, he’s thinking of offering those, too, so he probably will still need a hand with the baking from time to time.’

‘Perhaps you should look here in Sticklepond,’ I said, half joking, because it would be nice to have him nearby. ‘Only I’m not sure there’s much for sale here.’

He nodded ahead. ‘I can see a For Sale sign right over there … though
what
it’s selling is a mystery,’ he continued, because we’d now left the last lamppost behind us and the sign was pointing to a tall and very narrow slice of building set well back in the dense darkness between two much taller and more substantial ones.

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