Portia MacIntosh - Summer Secrets at the Apple Blossom Deli

‘This is Mary-Ann,’ she continues, unamused, nodding towards her tall friend. ‘She and her husband run the dairy farm.’

I nod in acknowledgement. She looks like the kind of woman who would name her kids Bernadette and Bart.

‘Is your husband the baker by any chance?’ I ask. What is it with the women in this town? Other than the females working in the school, it’s like they’re all defined by their husbands’ jobs.

‘No, I’m Avril Newman, wife of Bradley Newman – the local plumber.’

Oh carp .

‘I passed the deli today,’ she tells me, as though I don’t know how this one is going to end. ‘There was a plumber’s van parked outside. A plumber from a town fifteen miles away.’

‘We did call your husband,’ I tell her. ‘He didn’t want the job.’

‘Well, of course he didn’t,’ she replies. ‘We don’t want to be seen supporting a business that the locals don’t want here. But you giving the work to another plumber, from out of town, well, that’s taking food off our table, out of our little Jacques’ mouth.’

I laugh inside my head at her paradoxical argument. She’s upset at me for giving a job to someone other than her husband after her husband said no. So, I should be giving them my business, but they don’t want it, so…I’m not really sure what she wants from me.

‘Avril, I wanted to give your husband the job. I don’t want to take food from Jack’s mouth – in fact, it would be so nice if Frankie and Jack could be friends. I think he’s having a bit of trouble settling in,’ I confess.

‘ Jacques ,’ she corrects me.

‘Sorry, what did I say?’

‘Jack.’

‘Right.’

‘It’s Jacques ,’ she says again.

Of course it is.

‘Maybe your family just isn’t supposed to be here, Lily. We’re a tight-knit community and you only need to look over the Marram Bay Facebook group page to see that you’re just not wanted.’

‘Can I join this group?’ I ask, undefeated.

‘Well, it’s for locals only,’ she says quickly.

‘I’m local now,’ I point out with a smile.

Avril thinks for a moment.

‘I’ll have to ask the group. Apple Blossom Cottage sits just outside the main town, and the group is for the main town only. I’m sure you understand.’

‘Oh, I understand,’ I reply.

‘Perhaps it’s best to bow out now, before more upset is caused. You said it yourself, your son isn’t fitting in. And, well, our children are smart. They can tell we’re upset and if they know you’re to blame, your poor son is going to be collateral damage. Perhaps you need to put your son first – we always put our children first, it’s so important.’

I purse my lips, lest a ‘go duck yourself’ escapes from between them.

Right on cue, the school bell goes and all the little acorns come charging out of the door.

‘See you around, ladies,’ I say, before walking off to meet Frankie.

After the horde of kids, my own finally appears, all alone, without the gleeful smile or the urgency the others showed. Oh no, it must have been a bad day again.

‘Hey, kiddo,’ I say brightly. ‘She try to starve you to death today or did my threats work?’

Frankie laughs, just a little.

‘Good day?’

He shrugs.

I usher him towards the car and strap him in.

‘I know we’re off to a bit of a rocky start, and that it feels like we’re not fitting in, but we’ve only been here two days,’ I assure him. ‘Things will get better.’

‘No one likes us,’ he says, sounding dejected.

‘No one knows us,’ I remind him. ‘Let’s just give it a bit longer, OK? I will if you will.’

Frankie nods. He really is an amazing little man, which is probably why this is making me so mad. He should be so happy here and it’s not fair that the Mumsnet brigade are making him ‘collateral damage’ – well, I won’t have it. We will be happy here, and they will accept us. I’ll make sure of it.

Out of nowhere a quad bike flies past us at a junction. I stop my car and breathe for a second. First the locals ask us to leave, now it’s like they’re literally trying to drive us out of town. Well, they’re going to have to try harder than that.

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