Page 32 - The Letter By Ann Newhouse

He must have seen the surprised look on my face, ‘don’t look so shocked’ he laughed, ‘this is a small community, Joe mentioned it to me’.
Inviting him indoors I made a deal then and there to take six chicks and to ask if he would be willing to build a coup and run for me.
‘I’d be delighted’, he replied as he went out back to measure up.
Mr. Duffy was a large man in stature, a mop of wild grey hair I’d estimate he was in his early 70’s. He lived with his wife of forty or so years, Ellen, a petite woman at least ten years younger than him. They had no other family she kept to herself.
The meeting went well with Mrs. Hughes. She allocated the dressing up of the village to me. I had flowers, posters, streamers and lights at my disposal.
‘Paul can you get me a large ladder and the help of Brian Hut from the hardware store’, I requested with a charming smile as I joined Penny in the bar for a much- needed drink.
The next two weeks were hectic. Every woman and child went about their duties, to make this Spring fair better than the last. We did manage to get the help of some of the men with the promise of a free drink. Mrs. Hughes gathered a dance troupe together with children age between five and fifteen. I was asked to do some face painting Joe must have told them that I had begun painting in my spare time. The face painting got upgraded to include animals. I had never been asked to paint a pet sheep before, but it was fun.
Paul had a lemonade stall for the young and added something stronger for the not so young. Mr. and Mrs. Green from the grocer’s store supplied baskets full of homemade produce for the tombola. Mr. and Mrs. Brown supplied sausages and burgers for the