bushes. She thought she heard a noise like someone knocking on a door and, suspecting that Leo was back, went back into the house and opened the front door.
‘Surprise!’ said an overenthusiastic Carly as she threw her arms round Beth and squeezed her.
Beth stood rooted to the spot. Her mind went a complete blank for a moment, perhaps she was in shock. Eventually Beth hugged her back. ‘Wow, um, this is a surprise. Where’s Fergus?’ she asked, looking behind Carly.
‘Huge disaster. Treehouse was exactly that. It was a hut in a tree in a field and there was no proposal so … bloody hell, this is a shithole!’ she said, suddenly noticing the hallway she’d walked into. She glanced into the living room. ‘What the hell happened?’ Carly swung round and it was as if she went into slow motion giving Beth time to observe every detail; she was immaculate from her sleek dark glossy hair, to her perfectly pedicured toes. She was wearing a petite summery dress and casual jacket and looked like an advert for summer. Beth on the other hand had dried-by-itself hair with roots that were well past the ‘need touching up stage’, was wearing a now rather tatty Ted Baker blouse, thanks to its encounter with the cottage’s overgrown shrubbery, and a pair of cheap flip flops. She wiggled her unpainted toes self-consciously.
Beth didn’t like the feeling that came over her. It was a mixture of embarrassment and jealousy and it wasn’t pleasant to admit to. The contrast between her and Carly was now a chasm whereas only a few weeks ago they had been like two perfectly fashioned peas in an organic designer pod. Beth found she was grinding her teeth again, so she stopped.
‘Let’s go to the pub and I’ll explain,’ said Beth, putting an arm around Carly and steering her out of the front door. Carly put on her sunglasses and didn’t argue. As they walked towards the pub, Beth sniffed the air. ‘Can you smell poo?’
Two large glasses of wine later, both women were feeling a whole lot better having offloaded all of their woes to the other. Beth was feeling more settled in Carly’s company and now felt bad for having had her earlier pang of jealousy. It was lovely to see Carly even if it was unexpected. And at least now Carly had seen Willow Cottage in all its awfulness she would appreciate its transformation when it was eventually renovated.
‘I’ve missed this so much, Beth. I’ve missed you.’ Carly looked teary as she reached out a hand.
‘I’ve missed you too.’ Beth gave Carly another hug. She’d missed having someone to talk to that knew her inside and out. ‘Right, you get yourself another glass of wine and I’ll take Leo and Denis to investigate this Summer Fete. That should buy us some more chatting time.’
The boys were like pinballs at the fingertips of the legendary pinball wizard as they charged around the village green from stall to stall. A lot more children seemed to have appeared, some of whom Denis knew, and before long there was a small gang of children dominating one stall at a time. All the old favourites were there; Hook A Duck, Coconut Shy, and Splat the Rat as well as newer ones like face painting, temporary tattoos and Football Penalty Shootout. The latter was a big hit with the boys and, while they were rejoining the lengthy queue for yet another go, Beth went to investigate the marquee. She walked across the spongy grass taking in the pale azure sky and the sound of people laughing and generally having a good time. Beth was enjoying the village green fete, you didn’t get anything quite like it in London. The marquee was huge inside and had been sectioned off for different competition items; the results of the best cake were being announced as Beth made her way nearer the front and tried to ignore how uncomfortably warm it was.
A woman in a floaty top and leather trousers was tapping a microphone. ‘So, in third place … Mr Pleasance with his giant pineapple cake. One to rival Mr Plumley’s marrow,’ snorted the woman at her own joke. Mr Pleasance happily accepted his third-place rosette and returned to the crowd amidst lots of backslapping. ‘Second place goes to the wonderful gooey chocolate cake by Mrs Oldham.’ A lengthy round of applause followed as a miffed Mrs Oldham, putting on her best valiant-loser face, accepted her rosette and prize. ‘And the worthy winner of Dumbleford’s Summer Fete Best Cake Competition is …’ The woman left too much of a pause and the crowd started heckling. ‘Mrs Pritchard and her 1960s cherry and almond cake!’ Beth was wondering what qualified it as 1960s when a violently coloured swirly patterned cake was lifted up high to whoops of applause.
To Beth’s surprise, the person that collected the red rosette and glinting glass trophy was none other than Shirley the bag lady. Beth joined in the enthusiastic clapping as Shirley took the microphone. ‘It’s also a proper 1960s cake inside, if you know what I mean! Pound a slice, come and get it!’ Before she could hand back the microphone there was a surge of people towards her.
Beth was laughing as she left the marquee and on checking her watch realized that the time had sped by and she had left Carly on her own for a lot longer than she’d intended. She found the now-penniless boys who were sitting under a vast gnarled oak tree swapping sweets they had won, and the three of them made their way back into the pub.
Leo and Denis disappeared out into the garden and Beth strode towards where she had left Carly. She could hear Carly’s raucous laughter before she saw her and it made her smile. The small table now had two empty wine bottles on it and someone else was sitting there with Carly draped over them. For a moment Beth thought that Fergus had turned up until she took a proper look. Jack had his arm around Carly and she was going in for a kiss.
‘Carly!’ said Beth, her voice sharp.
Carly spun in Beth’s direction with an exaggerated movement. With slow blinks she looked at Beth until something registered.
‘Beth! This is … um … what was your name again?’ She swung precariously back towards Jack who stopped her falling on him with one hand whilst holding the pub table steady with the other.
‘I know who it is.’ Beth was trying to suppress the annoyance that was rapidly developing within her.
‘He’s lov-erly,’ cooed Carly whilst she stroked his arm in a deliberate action.
‘I’d like to know what he’s planning on doing with my drunk friend?’ Beth retorted. Jack let go of Carly as if she were a lit firework.
As the accusation slowly registered, Carly looked hurt. ‘I’m not dunk!’ she protested as she slowly slid towards the floor.
Jack was looking blindly from one woman to the other as if he’d just been teleported there. ‘I was just …’
‘For someone that wasn’t looking for a relationship a few hours ago you’ve sure as hell come round to the idea quick!’ Beth stepped forward and grabbed Carly by one arm and hauled her into a standing position. ‘Come on! We’re leaving now.’
Carly wobbled on unsteady legs, grinned inanely at Jack and was towed away.
They stumbled into the sunshine and the mêlée of the Summer Fete quickly surrounded them.
‘Ooooh, coconuts!’ squealed Carly, veering off.
Now that the flash of temper had subsided Beth wasn’t entirely sure where she was heading. Having separated Carly and Jack she wasn’t certain why she’d interfered but in that moment it had seemed like the only thing to do.
‘Beth, hang on!’ called out Jack, jogging
