“Got it.” Pippa hugged Mae, wincing at how tense her friend was. “It’s all in hand.” She then hurried down to the green, finding Wally in one corner with the line marker machine. He and Grantham were studying the plan Mae had given them, showing where each vendor was to be.
“Pip, love!” Wally hugged her, enveloping her with his familiar smell of cigarettes and chewing gum. “Sorry about this.”
“That’s all right,” Pippa assured him. Wally was Head Porter at Chesterfield Hospital, a job he took very seriously.
“One of my team’s going home with the flu,” he explained. “I need to pick up his shift.”
“Don’t worry.” Pippa gripped the handle of the marker machine.
“I know you’ve got a lot on your plate,” he went on apologetically.
“Wally, it’s fine.” She gestured around the green. “You’ve done so much already. It’s nearly finished.”
“All right, love.” Wally gave her a fatherly pat on the shoulder, then permitted Grantham a nod. “See you.”
Once he’d gone, Grantham clapped his hands. “Let’s crack on, shall we?” The two of them began to mark out the remaining vendor pitches, Grantham guiding Pippa as she marked out the rectangles, then he painted the corresponding vendor number in the centre of each pitch. The painting was laborious, but it meant that as each vendor arrived, they could go straight to their assigned spot without any confusion.
Just as they marked out the final spot, noise at the top of the green caught Pippa’s attention. “Oh good!” A flat-bed truck had reversed onto the green and two men were busying themselves unloading its contents.
“Hay bales?” Grantham observed.
“Yeah, cheap seating!” Pippa confirmed. “Mick Dunstan donated them. He— Oh.” One of the men heaving the bales around was Alex.
Grantham noticed her troubled expression. “I can finish up here,” he said. “If you need to go.”
“Thanks Grantham.” Pippa handed the marker machine over. “Can you take this back to the Hand and Flower? The hire company is coming for it this evening.”
“No problem,” he said.
“Thanks.” Before she ran off, Pippa stopped. “How’s Joan? Sorry, been so manic of late I haven’t been able to ask.”
To her alarm, Grantham’s eyes watered. “She’s not so well, I’m afraid. I can’t keep her at home anymore.” He forced an exasperated smile, but Pippa could see the pain behind it.
“Oh, God, I’m sorry.” Pippa put all thoughts of Alex and Wolfie out of her mind. “Is there anything I can do?”
“You’re doing it now,” he said gently. “It helps to talk about it.”
“Any time,” she promised him. “Please, let me know if there is anything else.”
“Maybe I’ll take you up on that,” he said. “Now, let me finish up.”
Pippa kissed his cheek then strode across the green. Alex had left his colleague to move the bales around as he was unspooling bunting from a paper sack. She had to admit that the bunting was perfect: all the colours of the rainbow.
“That’ll look good hanging from the trees,” she said by way of greeting.
Alex beamed, eyes crinkling as they always did. Pippa felt a glow of satisfaction at the revelation that his grin no longer had the same effect on her as it once did.
“How’s it all going?” he asked.
“We’re getting there.” She nodded at the bunting. “Thanks for your help.”
“You’re welcome.” He stood, hands on hips. “You look good.”
Pippa glanced down at herself uncertainly. Baggy jeans and an old band T-shirt that had been washed so many times it was an indiscriminate shade of grey where once it had been blue. “Thanks.”
“Do you remember when I bought you that top?” Alex stepped closer. “We saw that band at The Grapes.”
“I do.” It had been a fun night. The band were kind of terrible, off-key and shrieking, so Alex and Pippa had turned to beer to drown out the noise.
