I heaved the bedstead out of the car. I was in the middle of Cambridge market about to set up my first ever stall. The other stall holders looked on, a little bemused, wondering what I was selling…er…bedframes…really? I pulled out a few more things. A junior bed, a Victoriana fire screen, a rush footstool, framed pictures of Cambridge, a few oil paintings.
“What’s she selling?”
“Do you think there’s a call for beds?”
“Can we have a nap d’you think?”
“Could do with a kip.”
By this time, and may I say that it wasn’t even 7.00am yet, I was ready for a kip too and began to wish I’d brought a mattress along with the bed frame. I heaved a few more boxes out of the car.
Stallholders shuffled or bounded over.
“Hi”.
“Welcome.”
“Is this your first time?”
“Do you do any other days?”
“Only Tuesdays,” I replied. “This is my first.”
Blimey. I was overwhelmed by the friendliness.
I unwrapped my china from the boxes, my Wedgewood, Royal Doulton, the hand thrown pots and pretty jugs made in English potteries. I couldn’t hear it but I’m sure a sigh of relief went round…I wasn’t just selling beds after all. Maybe there was chance I would last more than a week. It had seemed like a good idea the night before to throw in a pine bedframe or too….but…how wrong that idea seemed now. Hmmm.
It was a dazzling hot day throwing a gorgeous white light on to my vintage china and glassware. I looked around. The stall to my left was ‘Sophie’s Cakes’; a beautiful home-made patisserie stall and on my left was…oh my goodness…a fresh churros and hot chocolate stall. Maybe this wasn’t real life after all. Maybe I had died and here I was in heaven, bizarrely manning a market stall in the middle of Cambridge.
I ate my way through the rest of the day almost without leaving my seat. Oh and I even sold some vintage china.
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