The church clock chimed ten and without any instruction the group began moving away from the hall. Blythe scanned the crowd.
‘Who are you looking for?’ asked Vicky, checking she still had Eden in her sights. The village was supremely safe and everyone looked out for each other, but still a mother’s instinct was to keep them under subtle surveillance.
‘I invited Sam,’ she said with a twist of her lips. ‘What a waste of time that was.’
‘Did you grill him about why he hates Christmas? Unleash the spirits? Whoooo,’ said Vicky, doing a Scooby-Doo-worthy impression of a ghost.
‘Sort of.’
Vicky was chuffed that Blythe had run with her suggestion. Most people didn’t take her seriously. That didn’t bother her – she’d always been her own person – but it was nice to think that perhaps sometimes she did have good ideas. ‘What did you find out?’
Blythe was looking over her shoulder as they walked away from the village hall. ‘That we wind each other up very fast.’
‘No big revelation then?’
‘Only that it’s not just Christmas; he also hates Halloween and anything community-related.’ Blythe puffed out a breath. ‘We ended up virtually shouting at each other.’
‘Oh well. His loss,’ said Vicky, linking her arm with Blythe’s.
‘I thought that too but Christmas means so much to this community and to me, and whilst I’m not one to side with Leonora I have to admit that if his cottage isn’t decorated it is going to completely ruin this year’s display, along with our chances of winning the competition.’
‘You’ll win him round,’ said Vicky.
‘But what if I don’t?’ Blythe sounded genuinely worried at the prospect.
‘Then I get posh crackers,’ said Vicky.
‘But everyone will blame me. And do you know what? They’ll be right. It’ll be all my fault. I brought the miserable git into the village, all because I was so caught up in achieving that stupid sales record.’
‘Don’t beat yourself up. And try not to let this Sam get to you. For a start he’s not even met me yet and I can be very persuasive. I’m sure we’ll think of a way to win him round,’ said Vicky, although off the top her head she was out of ideas.
*
Free events like this one were a godsend to Vicky. Eden bounced around excitedly and Vicky couldn’t help feeling like the luckiest person alive. Yes, she’d like a bit more cash in her life but she had the most wonderful little girl and that was really all that mattered.
Arthur was waiting to greet everyone when they arrived at the allotments. Many years ago the local farmer had donated part of a field to the village for allotments and, whilst they had been hugely popular for a while, their interest had waned over the last ten years. Arthur had come up with the idea of turning over half the allotments to pumpkins and the local school as an outdoor classroom, and the decision had been a huge success.
Arthur was in his wellies standing in front of the hedge that hid the field from the road. It was sad to see Arthur standing alone as this was something he had always done with Murray. ‘Hi, Arthur, how are you?’ asked Vicky giving him a hug.
‘Oh, I’m fine,’ he said, forcing a smile.
Blythe squeezed his arm. ‘I’m missing Murray today too,’ she said. A tear formed in Arthur’s eye and he nodded his understanding.
‘Right. Just in case anyone is new to this.’ Arthur raised his voice above the chatter of the crowd. ‘Hopefully you’re all wearing wellies because it’s a bit muddy in places. Remember the biggest isn’t always the best.’
‘Hear, hear!’ called someone from the back.
Arthur continued. ‘Don’t lift a pumpkin by the stalk because it may break and you’ll damage your pumpkin. Once you’ve chosen one get an adult to cut the stalk, leaving at least two inches. Secateurs are on the bench and are for use by sensible adults only.’
‘We don’t have any of those,’ someone shouted.
‘Then you motley crew will have to do,’ said Arthur. ‘One pumpkin per child. If you’d like any extras, then please make a donation. Bring your pumpkin to me for checking and weighing and let me know if you find any rotten ones.’
‘I like finding the rotten ones,’ shouted Eden. ‘We get to give those to the pigs at the farm.’
‘That’s my girl,’ said Vicky proudly.
The children all gathered around. ‘No running, no squabbling and no tantrums,’ said Arthur firmly. ‘And that applies to you children too.’ Everyone laughed. ‘Off you go!’ he shouted, and the eager bunch made their way behind the bush and into the field. The gasps from the children as they saw the pumpkins always made Vicky’s heart soar. Oh, to still have that level of excitement for something so simple.
