‘Sold out!’ she says, on seeing me. ‘Really?’ ‘Yep, just flogged the last of the “snips”. Granny Elizabeth’s parsnip wine sure went down a treat – they couldn’t get enough of it. Your elderflower fizz too, especially with the cucumber twist over ice – I made it just as you said,’ she laughs. ‘That’s amazing,’ I say, leaning my bike against a tree before stepping inside the truck. ‘Sure is. And I’ve handed over all the proceeds to the parish council treasurer. She came by a few minutes ago, so if you want to potter on down to the fields with me, I think the ploughing competition is about to start soon.’ Molly unties her apron and rolls it up under her arm. ‘That would be lovely. I thought I might try a trip in one of the hot-air balloons,’ I grin. ‘Hmm, well, rather you than me – not sure I trust being in a basket all that way up in the air.’ She shakes her head. ‘And thanks for helping out this afternoon,’ I say, gesturing around the truck, wondering if Mum will give me a hand later to get all these empty wooden crates back to the cottage.
