Chapters (28)
- Cover
- About the Author
- Also by Jaimie Admans
- Dedication
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Acknowledgements
- A Letter from the Author
- Turn the page for an exclusive extract from another enchanting novel from Jaimie Admans, The Little Vintage Carousel by the Sea …
- Chapter 1
- Dear Reader …
- Keep Reading …
- About the Publisher
I approach the guy in the booth with caution, but he greets me with such a wide smile that it makes me think he doesn’t get much business. I tell him about Peppermint Branches, and he suggests designing a logo and getting flyers made up, along with postcards to advertise the grand reopening, and a set of normal business cards. I sit behind his booth and watch as he pulls up software on his laptop and throws together some logo ideas. It doesn’t take long for me to settle on a red-bordered one with a few simple Christmas trees in shades of green, that he manages to make look like they’re growing out of the word Peppermint Branches in an earthy font. His prices aren’t too unreasonable, even on my budget, and he tells me they’ll be ready to collect from next Friday onwards.
I feel quite proud of myself as I say hello to owners at a few more stalls on the way back to Noel’s pumpkin stand, my bag gradually getting heavier because I can’t resist buying some of the locally made cheeses, shortbread biscuits, and homemade fudge from the sweet stall.
When I get back, Noel’s wearing the black cargo trousers and navy plaid shirt that he was earlier, but his sleeves are rolled up around his elbows now. He’s taken the bodywarmer off, gone are the hat and ponytail, and in their place is a headband. A black headband with four plastic pumpkins spread across the width of it, standing out on springs and bobbing around with every movement.
‘Wow,’ I say, at a bit of a loss for any other words in the face of a springy pumpkin headband.
He grins and reaches up to a little battery pack behind his ear to flick a switch, and the pumpkins start flashing so brightly that I can see the reflection of the pulsing orange lights in the concrete floor.
‘Amazing, right? They can be seen from right across the market.’
He makes this sound like a good thing. ‘Well, of all the things I expected when I got back, battery-operated headgear wasn’t one of them. You seriously wear that every day?’
‘Every day I’m here, aye. If my farmhands cover the market shift then they wear it. I can get you a Christmas tree one, if you want?’
‘Oh, I think I’ve got enough challenges ahead without adding flashing neon hairbands to the list, but thanks.’