‘Hello, lovely to see you. Mum, can I leave you here? I’m just going to get the mannequins from the car.’
‘Of course, love. Do you want a hand?’ As Pippa shook her head, her wet hair flicking droplets as she did so, Jan responded to Sally. ‘Little mini scones, clotted cream and passion fruit. I thought I’d go tropical for a change.’
‘Yum, anything you make is good for me. Really, you should be selling your cakes and scones at places like this. You’d make a killing.’ Pippa left the hall grinning as her friends crowded around Jan, making her mother blush with the compliments that were raining down (with the same ferocity of the deluge outside) as she peeled back the Tupperware lid. People were good. People also liked cake.
It didn’t take long before they were all set up, and even Pippa was proud of how things were looking. She had an Edwardian bridal dress which she thought was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, taking pride of place on the first mannequin. Its intricate lacework and darling little pearl buttons were enough to make the most reluctant bride swoon and Pippa just loved it. In her more indulgent moments she would imagine the women who had worn this dress as they walked down the aisle for the happiest day of their lives. She had a feeling she may weep if she ever actually sold it.
Her two ‘bridesmaids’ were dressed - one, in a cute Seventies tennis outfit, so sassy it hurt, and, the other, in a Nineties outfit complete with dungarees and rainbow spiral cropped T-shirt and whistle. Both looked fab and provided complete contrast to the wedding dress. Everything else was set out on her rail, and she had laminated cards, that showed every conceivable outfit she had, all over the walls and on the table mixed in with various accessories.
Lunch had been and gone and the rain had eased slightly, less frenetic but still present, which meant the ballroom was rammed. It seemed as if everyone who had considered going out for the day had decided an indoor venue was definitely the best idea. Sally’s children’s clothes were flying out, as were Beth’s printed lampshades and Carrie’s silver jewellery. Pippa had managed to sell an awful lot of stock, far more than she had anticipated and it was proving her most successful craft fair yet, and her mother was more than content, having fed most of the hall and having had compliments shower down upon her all morning. She was currently sat next to two large empty Tupperware containers, looking like the cat who had got the cream.
‘Dear god, how is a man supposed to breathe in here? This is insane. Far too many people with far too much time on their hands. Pippa, where are you?’ A man’s voice cut through the crowd and made Pippa freeze on the spot. She had just been congratulating herself on the sale of the most beautiful smocked top complete with floral embroidery, when she heard him. What on earth was James doing here? She flashed a quick look at her mother to see if she too had heard the familiar voice, but no, it appeared not. It would only be a matter of time.
James appeared at the table, designer sunglasses perched atop his head despite the sun being very distinctly absent.
‘I don’t have any more time for playing games, Pippa. This is it. Now. I need you to stop playing coy, leave this and come with me. I’ve got a helicopter waiting on the pad on the roof, and we need to go, now. Now! Come on. You’re going to love where we’re going. Quick!’ He looked around agitatedly and Pippa fixed him with her fiercest look. It bounced off. What was he doing here?
Did he still seriously think she was going to go with him? Even worse, this looked like he thought she would flee the blooming country with him. Wow!
James continued, oblivious to her death glare. ‘Really, we need to go now. Hello, Jan.’ He spotted Pippa’s mum, ‘Perhaps you could take over here whilst Pippa comes with me.’
James was pushed up against the table as the crowd surged a little and put his hand out onto the table to steady himself. Then wiped it on his trousers, as if he could catch old-stuff germs.
Pippa glanced at her mum, unsure, for the first time in her life, of what her mother’s reaction would be. So far, she was being remarkably quiet
James followed her look and grinned back at her smugly. He obviously thought that if his number one supporter was here then Pippa would be forced into compliance. He reached across the table to try and grab Pippa’s arm but, as he did so, four men, not your usual craft and vintage sale types, appeared behind James, one forcefully laying a hand on James’ shoulder.
‘Mr Carpenter, if you’d like to come with us.’ His deep voice resonated through the hall.
‘No, I bloody wouldn’t.’ He shot a furious look at Pippa before dropping his body down low and twisting to try and get out of the man’s hold. ‘This is your fault. I should have just gone.’ With the room so packed he had no way of getting through the crowds of people, now far more excited by the drama playing out in front of Pippa’s stall than they were by any lampshade.
James twisted and turned further in an attempt to escape, but the whole room could see he didn’t have a hope. Another man grabbed hold of him and twisted him around, catching hold of his arms and attempting to cuff him. There was a flurry of arms as James tried to fight the men off. None of them however were prepared for Jan, who had been eerily quiet so far, suddenly coming to life and flinging herself from her chair armed with a Tupperware box.
As James writhed and wriggled and the men continued to try and cuff him, Jan launched herself at him, trying to wallop him with her container.
‘Ma’am, please, stop… ma’am, we’ll have to restrain you.’
‘Mum, you’re not helping.’
James did not know what had hit him. And Pippa wasn’t entirely sure either.
The crowd stepped back and made room for what was unfolding. The men managed to get one of James’ hands in a cuff as another man tried to hold back Pippa’s mother, retired nurse and volunteer hospice carer, queen of the cakes and one-time chair of the WI. Despite their interference, Jan was managing to take a few good hard whacks at James with her Tupperware as she punctuated her attack with the words ‘pervert’, ‘disgrace’ and ‘filthy’.
One of the detectives managed to peel her away and return her to Pippa, warning her to keep her mother under control unless she wanted to be visiting the police station herself, whilst the other three managed to finally contain James and read his rights.
He wouldn’t be using that helicopter now.
Pippa still stood frozen to the spot in shock at everything that had happened in such a short space of time. She stayed like that as the crowd parted to make way for the plain clothes policemen to lead James away and as her mother shot the room a triumphant glance before returning to her chair and resuming her normal demure expression.
As James was led out, hurling curse words over his shoulder and blaming Pippa for all his ills, Pippa started to giggle, the laughter coming over her in waves and feeling out of her control. She wondered if this was what shock was.
The room had just gone from silent to the beginnings of murmuring, when suddenly another voice, loud and bold, pierced the whispers.
‘Woo-hoo. Hello, darling. We thought we’d nip by and take a look.’ And there, standing on tiptoes, with all her adult children standing behind her, was Geeta. It was Hema who piped up next, a great big mischievous grin on her face. ‘So, does this mean you’re single now?’
I imagine it’s been a long day but do you think we should set our mothers up as a wrestling team?
You’re so bad.
