‘Of course. Anything.’
‘Signage. My signs are rubbish. Could you do something more professional?’
‘I’d love to,’ she said to Regan before turning back to Penny. ‘I’m a bit arty,’ she explained.
‘Understatement,’ said Regan, through a pretend cough. ‘She’s the famous artist whose studio I’ve been living in.’
Penny looked suitably impressed. The conversation veered off into the world of art, which Penny seemed to be quite knowledgeable about. After another five minutes of feeling like she was invisible, Regan arranged to meet Cleo at the studio when she finished at the market and then headed back to the stall with Elvis. She glanced back as she crossed the road to see Penny and Cleo were still deep in conversation.
The afternoon was erratic, but thanks to more referrals from Malcolm she sold another two jars of jam and her first jar of chutney. She was busy jotting down options for where to stay for the night when she became aware of someone approaching. It was like a cloud passing in front of the sun when Beanstalk loomed over the stall, but his beaming grin made up for the lack of light. ‘Hiya, Reg. How’s it going?’
‘Good, thanks.’ And today it actually was. Today she felt like she was starting to get a feel for what being a stallholder meant. Taking cash and handing over her own product had filled her with pride and, along with Cleo’s positivity, it had renewed her enthusiasm.
‘We need a favour …’ She looked at him standing there apparently alone. He stepped to the side to reveal a sheepish Charlie, lurking behind him.
‘Oh. Hi.’ It was like being a teenager again. She turnedher attention back to Beanstalk – it was far easier to concentrate on him. ‘Sure. What’s the favour?’
‘The fire station is getting an aerial appliance. I’ve been put forward to fly to the factory in Germany and learn how to use it and how to train the others,’ said Beanstalk.
‘Congratulations,’ said Regan. She figured the puffed-out chest meant Beanstalk was quite pleased.
‘Thanks.’ He grinned. ‘Anyway, I’ll be away for three weeks and my flight’s on Monday.’ He was looking at her hopefully. Charlie was studying the ground. ‘And you see, Charlie would be on his own …’
‘This is not necessary,’ said Charlie, his expression a mixture of embarrassment and irritation. ‘Beanstalk has been on lots of night shifts recently and look, I’m still here.’
Beanstalk turned to Charlie. ‘Do you think I like leaving you?’
Charlie shrugged. ‘I’m only saying that you’re out a lot.’
Beanstalk looked affronted. ‘I work. What am I supposed to do?’
‘I don’t know. I’m just saying we could go out together more.’
‘I’m tired after night shift,’ said Beanstalk, rubbing his face. They reminded Regan of a married couple.
‘You’re always tired.’
‘How many times do I have to apologise for that?’ Beanstalk threw up his hands.
‘We used to do more stuff together before you moved in.’ Charlie studied his feet.
‘After Germany, I’ll make more time. And when I’m back on the standard shift pattern I won’t be as tired. Okay?’ said Beanstalk.
‘I guess.’ Charlie shrugged.
Regan cleared her throat to remind them she was still there, and they both virtually stood to attention. ‘What’s the favour, exactly?’ she asked.
‘Sorry,’ said Beanstalk. ‘Would you be able to move in to Charlie’s for three weeks just to … you know … keep an eye on him.’
‘In case I die,’ said Charlie, bluntly.
‘I’d love to,’ said Regan almost at the same time, making her sound rather callous. ‘I mean … You’ve helped me out. So it’s only putting us square.’
‘You’re a star.’ Beanstalk leaned over the stall to hug her, and she feared the whole thing would collapse like matchsticks. She looked at Charlie. That was not the face of a man happy about his new lodger. ‘You can move in when you like,’ added Beanstalk.
‘Great! I’ll be round later,’ said Regan.
Charlie leaned forward. ‘You sure you’re okay with this?’
