Kellie Hailes - The Big Little Festival

There was a tug on his shirt.

‘You are not going to tell him you know he wears lacy underwear,’ Jody whispered. ‘It’s not your business. It’s nobody’s business. And what if he digs his heels in deeper? Christian, if he knows Mrs Harper has been spreading rumours about him, you could start some sort of town war.’ Jody spun him round to face her. ‘This isn’t London. If you have a falling out with someone, you’re going to have to see them again. A lot. You can’t do this.’

‘I’ll do what needs to be done.’ Christian shrugged her off, strode across the road and paused in front of the butchery – ‘Stripped and Fed’. What the hell kind of name was that for a butchery? Graphic much? And now he was going to have to meet the proprietor, knowing that when he stripped he was in lacy knicks. Bloody hell. If he didn’t need this job so much he would have been out of here in five seconds flat.

He pushed open the door and was greeted by refreshing chilled air, and the earthy, metallic scent butcheries exuded. He breathed it in. There was more to that scent, though. There was a hint of spiciness too. Before him, display fridges were filled with choice cuts, gleaming pink and red. He glanced up and saw fat-speckled salami hanging. Different widths, different lengths, and from the looks of it, different varieties. At the end of the room another fridge displayed prosciutto, pre-cut salami, pancetta and coppa, as well as cheeses, olives and sun-dried tomatoes. He strolled over for a closer look. Not just any cheese, a range of goat’s cheese – chèvre, brie, blue. Sitting alongside those were camembert, gouda, cheddar, with a sign stating all products were produced locally. This wasn’t a butchery, it was foodie heaven. An idea occurred to him…

Jody burst through the door, her eyes wild with panic. ‘Where’s Mr Thompson?’ She craned her neck over the meat-filled fridges. ‘Don’t tell me he’s stormed off in a rage.’ She gnawed at her lower lip. ‘What have you done, Christian?’

‘I’ve done nothing. But I have a way to get what we want.’

‘Done? Who’s done what?’ A tall, burly man clomped his way towards them. White boots slapping on the tiled floor.

‘Mr Thompson!’ Jody squeaked. ‘We were wondering where you were…’

Christian grabbed Jody’s hand and gave it a squeeze, hoping it would convey she could trust him. That he wasn’t going to blow it. She snatched it away and shoved her hands into the pockets of her denim shorts.

‘Finally, I get to meet the great Mr Thompson. It’s an absolute pleasure, sir.’ Christian offered his hand to Mr Thompson, who looked at it with suspicion. Christian dropped his hand. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as easy a sell as he’d thought. He cleared his throat. ‘Right, so, um, as much as I’d like to make this a social occasion, Jody and I are here on business. I hear you’re refusing to give the okay for the festival to take place in the main street.’

‘It’ll ruin a day’s takings.’ Mr Thompson picked up a knife and steel from his butcher’s block and began to sharpen it vigorously. ‘I don’t know who you are, but if you knew anything about Rabbits Leap, you’d know it’s not the kind of place where a person can afford to lose a day’s takings.’

‘I understand that, Mr Thompson, I do. But it’s imperative you give us the okay today. The festival is just under three weeks away. Tickets have been sold, in fact they’ve sold out.’ The fib rolled off his tongue. Sometimes you had to expand on the truth to get what you wanted. ‘And if we don’t hold it here, we’ll have to beg a farmer to lease us some land. An expense we were hoping to avoid, as we’re aiming to raise enough money to revitalise the community pool.’

‘You mean the community pool I’ve never swum in and am not likely to. So why should I care?’ A slab of eye fillet was slapped on the block and sliced efficiently.

‘Look, here’s what I’m proposing. You give us the okay and we…’

Something warm and soft gripped his hand, squeezed it. Jody’s hand. Did she really think he was going to resort to blackmail? The idea was tempting, but you didn’t get anywhere with people by screwing them down with threats. You just had to make them see why your way was better.

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