He comes up behind me. ‘How can you be so haphazard, Eliza B? You’re like a molecule in a gas making random collisions.’
I hide my laugh in my fist. ‘I’ve been watching you, too. Have you taken photos and picked up calling cards from them all?’
‘Back to the drawing board.’ He rushes off again.
By the time he comes back the next time, I’ve found six definite choices and three possibles and had chats with the makers of all of them.
He sidles up to the stall Fudge and I are leaving. ‘Any immediate reactions?’
I smile. ‘Fudge has had so many treats he’s not going to want his tea. And for now I’m not looking at lampshades, art prints, clothes or cakes, and I’m ignoring anything truly pricey like silver jewellery and leather bags.’
He frowns. ‘That rules out most stalls.’
‘You think?’ I laugh. ‘There are beautiful miniature mermaids made from reclaimed fabrics, some coloured bowls, all the same shape but with different painted designs, some hand-printed coasters, two lots of soaps, and some lovely books that would be perfect for journalling or scrapbooking. Oh, and a knitter, and some bright wooden bead jewellery.’
His eyes blur. ‘This is why you’re buying and I’m backing.’ When he raises his eyebrows, I know there’s something good coming. ‘I found a hand-made ice cream stall. Would you like one?’
I grin. ‘I saw that too, I couldn’t decide between elderflower and gooseberry, or rhubarb and custard.’
He looks down at me. ‘Have a scoop of each. With a white chocolate flake?’
I try not to drool. ‘I’ll be over there by the stripy mugs.’
I call Fudge, who follows me, and then goes straight in to greet the mug seller.
I’m taking my time, looking along the stall, taking photos of my favourite mugs, when there’s a sharp tug on the lead.
‘Fudge, don’t pull, or I’ll drop things!’ There’s another tug and I warn him again, this time louder. ‘Fudge!’
‘Fudge?’ It’s like an echo behind me.
As I turn there’s enough time to see a dark-haired woman with a well-cut bob standing with a handsome grey-haired man. Then Fudge throws himself at them, bouncing on the spot on his hind legs, leaping up to lick the woman’s face until eventually she catches his front paws in her arms.
I’m still hanging on to his lead but as I’ve completely lost Fudge’s attention I have to say something. ‘I take it you two know each other?’
The woman’s got crinkles at the corners of her eyes when she smiles. ‘We do. I’m Jackie, Fudge’s mum. I’m also Miles’s mum. And this is my friend Harry.’
She smiles up at the guy, then she looks back at me. ‘You’re the girl with the auburn hair and the horse who came to stay with Miles. I’ve often seen you from a distance.’
There’s a cough behind me and Miles arrives at my side. ‘Betty is a woman, and Pumpkin is a pony. Apart from that you’re on the nail, Mother.’
I smile and will my hair to be less tangled. ‘Miles is staying with me, not the other way round. For the record. Scarlett is the boss.’ If there’s a chance to get this story straight around the village, I may as well take it.
Jackie beams. ‘I’m pleased we’ve got that sorted out. It’s very kind of you to have Miles to stay, and we very much appreciate you taking Fudge, too.’ She gives Harry a nudge. ‘Don’t we, Harry?’
Miles hands me my ice cream and turns to his mum. ‘I didn’t expect to see you two here?’
Jackie has the same long legs as Miles and the creases in her chinos are a lot like his too. ‘You know us– another day, another market. It makes a change from garden centres.’ She turns to me. ‘We didn’t expect to see you here either. Have you managed to leave the shop? You do know he’s banned us, but if you ever need a hand, you only have to say.’
Miles steps in. ‘Zofia is there today.’
His mum looks at me. ‘Miles’s first curly croissants were a lot like cricket balls, but all our friends buy them and they’re very impressed.’
I laugh. ‘The ones he bakes now are surprisingly delicious.’ My heart goes out to her for getting so left out. ‘I don’t want to cause a family rift, but it’s a shame not to see the shop when it’s only going to be there a few weeks. You’re welcome to pop in any time when I’m there, Jackie.’
Miles takes the dog lead from me and hands me his ice cream to hold instead. ‘I’ll take Fudge back before Harry starts sneezing, and we’ll let you get on with your day.’
As a drip runs down the side of my cone I catch it with my tongue. ‘The ice cream is yummy, if you’re thinking of having one.’
