Every time the anxiety started revving up again, I reminded myself of Charlie, and what she would have thought about it. I was certain that had she been here, she’d have been standing right beside me at the kitchen table, sleeves rolled up and face glowing.
The event was scheduled for 7 p.m. until 9. At 6.55, I added the last platter of cinnamon apple turnovers to the trestle tables lining one side of the barn. The lights were on, the heaters were blasting, and Becky and I were dressed in claret-coloured dresses to match the fruit themed décor (sprigs of dried flowers stuffed in milk bottles tied with red twine, red and green striped table runners, and strings of paper apples and plums draped from the rafters. Becky had even created a Damson Farm logo, thin, dark red text winding around a damson tree, which she’d blown up onto a massive poster and stuck on the back wall).
At one minute past seven, Ziva arrived, arm in arm with Becky’s dad, closely followed by four of their friends. At two minutes past, Alice texted to say that she was on her way. At three minutes past, I was hiding behind the barn, bent over with my hands on my knees while trying not to throw up.
What the hell had I done?
Then I heard feet scrunching in the gravel behind me and a strong, warm hand gripped my elbow.
‘Come on,’ Daniel said, his breath warm against my neck. ‘Becky’s wondering where you are.’
‘I just need a minute,’ I said, breathing slowly to avoid retching in front of him.
‘No, you need to get back to your event. Any second now someone from the New Side is going to turn up and you need to be there to provide the voice of reason.’
‘Can’t you do that?’
‘This is your night, Eleanor. I’m not about to steal your glory.’ He twizzled me around to face him, taking one look at my stricken expression before pulling me into the warmth of his soft jacket, my face buried against his shoulder, his arms gently wrapped around me. ‘You’ll be fine. I’ve got your back. If it comes to it, Becky, Ziva, Alice, Luke… your back’s not that big.’ He gave it a friendly pat, as if to prove it. ‘We can cover it.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me this was a terrible idea, and ban me from using your barn?’ I mumbled into his shoulder, wishing I could simply stay there.
‘Because it’s not.’ I could feel him smiling against my hair. How could one moment be so full of horror and so deliciously lovely all at the same time?
‘If it was a good idea, someone else would have tried it. No one else is stupid enough to invite the whole village to a joint event, as if all that’s needed is a teensy cup of cider and a piece of plum cake and everyone will live happily ever after.’
‘Maybe that’s because no one else is brave enough.’ He paused. ‘My sister invited the whole class to her birthday party, every year without fail.’
‘Did they all come? From both sides?’ I felt another painful wave of longing for my friend.
‘No. To my parents’ relief. But she kept on trying, anyway.’
The headlights of another car lit up the darkness beyond the edge of the barn.
‘Come on, you’re freezing. And as much as I believe in you, I’ve left my daughter in what might be about to turn into a bloodbath.’
I made a groan of protest.
‘Eleanor, you started this. Imagine if it actually works. Imagine if at least some of the people who come, decide to stay and mend some bridges. Wouldn’t that make it all worth it?’
The thing with Daniel was, when he spoke, something in me couldn’t resist believing him.
He pulled away, and I allowed him to steer me by the shoulders, back around the corner and over to where a gaggle of people waited near the barn doors. A rush of adrenaline zipped around my nervous system. Fear-based, mainly. But also, mixed in there was a tiny bit of excitement. The faces were beaming as they were greeted by Becky, who handed each person three cardboard tokens, each of which could be swapped for a sample of cider or damson wine.
‘Where’ve you been?’ she asked, teeth gritted behind her smile. ‘People are waiting for samples.’
‘Sorry, I needed to sort something.’
‘All sorted?’ she asked, not fooled for a second.
I nodded, giving her arm a squeeze of reassurance as I nipped past her into the barn. Around twenty people were milling about in coats and scarves, either chatting with each other or looking hungrily at the tables. I hurried over to stand behind the drinks table, hoping Alice would arrive soon so she could start offering the food around. Seeing me taking up position, a queue quickly formed, tokens gripped in anticipation.
‘Hello, everyone!’ I took a deep breath, switched into hospitality mode, and got to work.
It took fifteen minutes before someone spoke the words I’d been dreading. The room had filled to around fifty people. Alice had arrived, bedecked in a red strapless cocktail dress and matching ankle boots, and was soon swishing around the barn brandishing trays. Daniel, wearing Hope in a sling, was playing Lord of the Manor, mingling his way through the clusters of villagers, nodding and smiling and stopping to make smalltalk. Once, he glanced over and caught my eye, giving an encouraging flick of an eyebrow, as if to say, ‘See, it’s going awesomely!’ and my heart dissolved into mush.
‘Um, excuse me?’ An older woman interrupted, her face scrunched up in bewilderment and disgust. For a second I thought it must have been the cider. Then she pointed a gnarly finger at the middle-aged couple wandering towards us. ‘They’re from Bannock Lane.’
‘Are they?’ I asked, voice taut due to every muscle in my body having constricted at once.
