Chapter Seven

‘ I ’m sorry, love. Are you really sure you can cope here on your own?’ Elsie leaned against Ian as he helped her towards the car.

Walking beside her, Robyn nodded. ‘I’ll be just fine. It won’t be much longer until we’re out of stock, anyway.’

‘Okay.’ Pausing, Elsie turned towards her and squeezed her arm. ‘But any problems. At all. And you ring me.’

‘I will.’ Robyn smiled. ‘Just you get back and put that foot up. The more you rest it, the quicker it will heal.’

‘I’ll make sure she does. Thanks for getting her to ring me, Robyn.’ Ian opened the car door before helping Elsie inside. ‘And I’m sorry I didn’t bring Brooke to help you. Diane had an antenatal appointment she’d forgotten about, and the bakery has been hectic all day.’

‘No worries. I’ll be fine.’ Robyn nodded. She could handle it. There wasn’t much left to sell and if the rain continued like this for much longer then she wouldn’t be at all surprised if other stalls began calling it a day and packing up soon anyway.

‘Okay, love.’ Ian closed the car door. ‘If you’re sure? But ring if you need help and if Diane gets back before you pack up, I’ll send Brooke over.’

‘Thanks.’ Robyn smiled and waved as Ian got in the car and drove off. Turning back to the stall, Robyn ducked under the awning and pulled her hood down. She had this. Yes, she’d only been volunteering at the bakery for a couple of days, but she’d cope. She looked across towards Jasper’s stall where he was standing chatting with a group of customers again. He still hadn’t spoken to her. Not even after Elsie had made the call to Ian and he’d made sure she was okay before returning to his mulled cider.

‘Afternoon. Have you got any mince pies left, dear?’ A woman wearing a plastic hair scarf smiled at her.

‘Umm, I’m afraid not.’ Robyn glanced down at the box of crushed mince pies she’d cleared up from the cobbles after Elsie’s fall. Elsie had been right to bring extras. It was just a shame they couldn’t be sold now. ‘Can I interest you in something else, though?’

‘Umm, I’ll take a couple of your cupcakes instead then please?’ The woman pulled her purse from a blue handbag. ‘Mind you, I’ll pop into the bakery to get my mince pies tomorrow.’

‘That’s a good idea.’ Robyn grinned as she boxed up the cupcakes. ‘I don’t blame you, they really are the best mince pies I’ve tasted and until I tried one yesterday, I never really much cared for mince pies.’

‘Oh, I agree. I only eat Elsie’s. Any others...’ The woman waved her hand, dismissing the very idea. ‘...and no thank you.’

Laughing, Robyn swapped the cake box for the money. ‘Well, I look forward to seeing you tomorrow then.’

‘You too, dear. And I hope the rain eases for you. There’s nothing worse than packing up a market stall in the pouring rain.’

‘Have you got a stall?’

The woman smiled and shook her head. ‘Not anymore, no. I did once, though. I came to Trestow market every Thursday and Saturday for twenty-five years selling my things.’

‘Oh wow, twenty-five years? What did you sell?’

‘Wool, threads, anything and everything craft related. The local crafters used to flock around my stall back in the day.’ The woman smiled at the memory.

‘I bet it was lovely to see all your customers returning week after week.’ Robyn grinned.

‘It was. Mind, I still see a few of them. We’ve got a local craft group going over at Trestow community hall. Do you craft at all?’

‘I do.’ Robyn smiled. There was nothing more that she loved to do than sew. And her hobby had helped her through many a difficult evening growing up whilst she and Cathy had sat upstairs listening to their parents argue. Not that she’d had the time to do much sewing recently, not between working as an accountant at the law firm and babysitting Cathy’s children, so she and Toby could go out. ‘I enjoy sewing, making keyrings, purses, bags. Anything really.’

‘Ooh, we have a few people who sew in our group. Helen for one and she’s about your age, I think. You should come along and join us. It’s a lovely group. A good excuse to have a natter more than anything else.’

‘Oh, that sounds lovely. Unfortunately, I’m only down here for a few weeks though or else I would have loved to.’ Robyn grimaced.

‘That’s a shame.’ The woman rummaged in her bag before pulling out a business card. ‘Here, this has all the details, the day, time and address on. If you fancy coming along whilst you’re visiting, please feel free to.’

‘Okay, thanks. I might just do that.’ Smiling, she took the card and slipped it in her coat pocket.

‘And my name’s Irene. I’ll be there.’ Irene smiled before turning away and venturing over to the stall selling candles.

Looking down at the card in her hand, Robyn read it. The meetings were weekly and in the evenings, so maybe she would just go along to one of them. It might do her good to get back into crafting. Growing up, she’d always wanted to start her own business, selling canvas bags, purses and trinkets such as little hanging birds on a string and bunting. She grinned. Maybe next Christmas she could make a fabric sleigh being pulled by nine little fabric reindeer, a similar design to the cardboard one her mum would always blu-tac to the wall going up the stairs when she and Cathy had been growing up.

Slipping the card carefully into her pocket, she tapped it, making sure it was secure. As Irene had said, it didn’t matter that she wouldn’t be here for long, she’d be welcome to their club, regardless. Yes, that’s what she’d do. It might spur her on to work at her dream. She could run it alongside her job and who knew? Maybe sometime in the future she might be able to quit work altogether and focus on being self-employed.

Moving the cupcakes towards the front of their tray, she scoffed at herself. Who was she kidding? As if she could earn enough by selling her crafts. Why would anyone want to buy from her?

Movement a few stalls down caught her eye, and she watched as a woman and child ducked beneath the awning of a stall, quickly pushing their hoods down and perusing the goods on offer. The child picked up something from the stall, holding it up to his mother.

Umm, people were selling crafts here, their homemade candles, wooden toys, cards, art, and all things sewn. It was possible. If she could just believe in herself, then maybe she really might be able to realise her dream.