Perched on a cardboard box, the early morning wind whipping around my head, I glowered angrily at Lydia over the top of my paper coffee cup.
I hadn’t woken up feeling this furious. In fact, when the alarm went off at five this morning I had bounded out of bed like an excited child, ready to start our very first fair as the Simon and Garfunkel Antiques Brigade. Together, Lydia and I had loaded our van with stock, packed our cash register, portable debit card machine and bags full of change, along with packed lunches, snacks and water to keep us going throughout the day. As we drove along the A39 towards Bridgwater, the early morning April sunshine lighting the way, I had been as excited as Lydia and I sang along to the radio and chattered non-stop about the potential customers we might meet that day. Summer was just around the corner, and it was the happiest I had felt since splitting with Brad, but then Lydia ruined it by dropping one massive bloody bombshell.
‘So, I saw Phil last night,’ she said casually as we passed through Wells, the empty road stretching out before us. ‘Said he might have a bit of part-time work for you, if you want it?’
I blinked at her in surprise. ‘Really? When I spoke to him before I moved in with you, he said he was fully staffed.’
‘Well, that was before Ginger’s mother took a turn for the worse. The poor girl wants to help her out a bit more and work part-time. You don’t have to do it forever, but I thought it might help you get your confidence back.’
‘I would love to,’ I said, braking as a motorcyclist came out of nowhere and dangerously overtook me. ‘It would be great to help him out as well, he’s been so kind.’
Lydia nodded. ‘He has. And of course, he was full of support about our search for Jack.’
I flashed Lydia a sympathetic glance. I still hadn’t got any further forwards and hoped she hadn’t become too disheartened.
‘He said he thought it was a good idea, that it would help lay a few ghosts to rest, you know,’ she said, her voice suddenly becoming high-pitched.
I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. Her face was flushed and she looked as if she was bubbling with excitement.
‘Was that all he said?’
‘Yes,’ she replied in her strange tone. ‘Oh, and that we could have the last two places on Ginger’s mixed age speed dating night at The Cow and Calf next Friday evening.’
‘What?’ I gasped.
The last thing I felt like doing was seeing anyone else. For a second, I wondered if Lydia was joking but the delighted smile that lit up her entire face told me that this was no joke and she obviously thought it was a good idea. Suddenly a sharp beep brought me swiftly back to reality and I turned the steering wheel just in time to avoid hitting a cyclist.
‘Why?’ I croaked eventually.
‘Because you and I need this,’ she said firmly. ‘Since we found that letter last week, I’m not sure who I am any more. I feel like I need to try new things, have new experiences to find out. As for you young lady—’ I glanced across at her as she wagged her finger at me, her face suddenly stern ‘—you desperately need to get out of the house and start realising there are other men out there that won’t treat you as badly as Brad did.’
‘I don’t think that,’ I gasped. ‘We just broke up.’
‘You’ve wasted too much time on him already,’ Lydia continued as if I hadn’t spoken, ‘You’re not getting any younger and neither am I. If Harry’s death has taught me one thing it’s that you don’t know how much time you’ve got left. Your life could be snuffed out when you least expect it and I don’t know about you but I’m not living my life in the shadow of a man any more.’
With that she turned and fixed her gaze straight ahead and we stayed like that until we reached our destination. As we unloaded the van, Lydia kept trying to talk to me but I was too furious to reply. Instead I focused on nodding quiet hellos to fellow stallholders, ensuring all the banners and signs advertising the fact we were the Simon and Garfunkel Antiques Brigade were straight, and then set about getting us some coffees. Despite the fact spring had arrived, there was still a nip in the air and I hoped a coffee wouldn’t just thaw out my hands but dampen the burning rage that was threatening to swallow me whole as well.
Now, as I watched Lydia welcome the first few customers that wandered over to our stall, I took a deep breath and did my best to calm down. I knew that she had been acting in my best interests and she genuinely believed she wasn’t just helping herself but me too. The trouble was that not only did I resent having my affairs meddled with, I hated the idea of speed dating. It was the last thing I had encouraged Cara to take part in and look how that had turned out. As I simmered over the dregs of my coffee, I felt a flash of realisation. The person I was mad at wasn’t Lydia, it was Cara. I couldn’t forget how, after the last speed dating session she had been on, we had gone for drinks and pored over the events of what I thought was her exciting single life, while all the time she was sleeping with my fiancé.
Throwing the remains of my coffee on the grass, I got to my feet and stood beside Lydia. ‘I forgive you,’ I whispered as she shoved a ten-pound note into our cash box.
She turned to me and grinned, her blue eyes alight with a mixture of kindness and mischief. ‘I’m sorry. I know I overstepped the mark. But well, I saw there were two places left and thought it was fate. I’m sorry Erin, I shouldn’t have booked us into the event without discussing it with you.’
I wrapped an arm around Lydia’s shoulders. ‘Please don’t do anything like that again. After Brad and Cara’s betrayal I can’t cope with any more surprises, even little ones. Promise me?’
‘Of course, I won’t do it again.’ Lydia smiled, before hastily turning to another customer who was examining an old Wedgewood vase. For a split second I thought I saw a flash of fear across her features, but then shook my head. Clearly the cold air and early start was playing havoc with my ability to think straight. This was all best forgotten, and perhaps Lydia was right, there was every chance I might even have a good time or at the very least a good laugh afterwards.
Feeling better, I looked around the rest of the fair properly for the first time. It was quite big, I realised, with car boot sellers, catering vans and small businesses all bustling with activity. Lydia had been right. This was a good place to start. Not only was it relatively close to Bath but it seemed popular with customers too. I stifled a yawn as I smiled at a potential customer browsing through the walking sticks we had laid out in an umbrella stand, then I turned to the petty cash tin. We had already made over £300 and it wasn’t even nine in the morning.
‘Not interrupting anything, am I?’ I said, sidling up to Lydia and flashing a smile at her and the younger man she was talking to.
‘Not at all,’ Lydia exclaimed. ‘In fact, I was just talking about you to John. John, this is Erin my business partner and lodger. Erin, this is John, a fellow antiques dealer from Bristol.’
I leaned forward to shake the man’s hand and smiled. Tall and a good few years younger than Lydia, with a lop-sided grin and bright red hair, he had a friendly look about him. ‘Pleased to meet you.’
‘Likewise,’ he said in a broad Bristol accent. ‘I hear you’ve got Lydia back into antiques. I’m delighted to have you back, Lyddie love, we’ve missed you.’
A hint of wistfulness flashed across Lydia’s eyes, ‘I have missed being a part of the antiques scene. It’s been wonderful selling our stock again and talking to enthusiasts about their interests.’
‘How long have you two known each other?’ I asked.
Lydia and John narrowed their eyes at each other as if trying to work it out. ‘Would it be about twenty years?’ John said finally.
‘I think so!’ Lydia exclaimed.
‘You don’t look old enough, John,’ I chuckled.
Lydia swatted me playfully with her arm. ‘Thank you very much!’
I held my hands up in mock defence. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. Just, you know, you have to admit Lydia, John does have something of a baby face.’
For a minute John looked embarrassed. ‘I’m actually older than Lydia here, but I didn’t always look like this. For ages I was a right fat so and so. Always eating those bacon rolls when I sold my stock at fairs like these. Then I got a personal trainer and he’s taken years off me.’
I nodded approvingly. It had clearly paid off. ‘What’s a personal trainer?’ Lydia asked.
‘It’s someone that tells you how to train at the gym,’ I explained helpfully. ‘They help make you fit and healthy by working out your current fitness level and setting you a goal.’
‘I swear by mine,’ John said. ‘Been seeing Mike about five years now. I’ve lost six stone thanks to him, and even my wife Annabel’s started seeing him.’
Lydia’s mouth fell open. ‘Annabel is going to the gym? But she always hated exercise.’
The easy laugh that fell from John’s mouth reverberated across the stall. ‘That’s before she saw the results I got. Not only that, but she was at a bit of a low ebb after her sister died. Mike’s helped her come to terms with that.’
‘Through exercise?’ Lydia asked incredulously.
‘Exercise is well-known for staving off the blues,’ I said.
‘Well I never,’ Lydia gasped, before turning to John. ‘Do you have his number? I think I should like to give him a call.’
‘Yes, hang on a minute.’ John fished out his mobile from his pocket.
‘Lydia! Hang on. Are you sure you want a personal trainer?’
‘Why not?’ she chuckled, a glint in her eye. ‘Maybe this Mike can take twenty years off me like he has for John.’
I watched in astonishment as John texted the number to Lydia. I was all for Lydia making changes and improving her life, but since we’d discovered Jack’s letter she seemed to be trying to reinvent herself – was it possible she was changing too much?