Chapter Thirteen
‘Kids heal so fast and bounce back,’ Roo said, watching Freddie kicking a ball about in the kids’ space at the Magic Lantern Festival the following Friday after school. ‘He’s already talking about playing cricket again and seeking revenge on the lad who broke his arm.’
‘Wow. I wouldn’t like to get in his way,’ Zennor replied, relieved to see Freddie feeling better, even if his arm was still in a sling. Her own scars from the rock pool had also healed but her confused feelings about being rescued by Matt had not.
It had been humiliating and disturbing and incredibly sexy to see him wading into that pool in his boxer shorts.
The conversation afterwards had haunted her all week.
She’d known from the moment he’d walked into the office that old hurts and emotions couldn’t be kept inside the bottle.
Last weekend had uncorked them and now they were out, she feared they could never go back in.
She hadn’t fully realised how deeply Matt had felt about her when they were young and how badly he’d been scarred by his own behaviour at the wedding. She did feel a little more kindly towards him now, but also desperately sad that so many opportunities had been lost.
Roo winced as Freddie scored a direct hit on his dad’s stomach. ‘I have tried to tell him that revenge isn’t a healthy motivator … but if it helps his recovery …’
While Freddie slapped his winded father on the back, five-year-old Sierra flitted around them in pink tulle and silver wings. Zennor forced her attention back to the present, grateful for the distraction of the kids’ innocent joy.
‘That outfit is cool. I almost wish I’d booked into the Fairy Workshop too …’ she said wistfully.
‘She’s been buzzing with excitement for days,’ Roo said, smiling.
It was good to spend some normal time with Roo and her family, grounding herself after all the emotional drama recently.
While Jake kept an eye on the children, Zennor and Roo bought drinks and wandered around the festival, checking on their clients.
Kernow Entz had supplied over twenty performers, including the wandering minstrels and stilt walkers who had greeted her as she walked through the wooded archway and into the festival.
With a theme of the ‘fabulous and fantastical’, the event featured storytellers, immersive theatre experiences, woodland crafts, fire-eaters, jugglers, archery and all manner of performers dressed as everything from wood nymphs to giant squirrels.
After Matt had dropped her at the hotel, she’d managed to change in the staff bathrooms without the kids seeing her.
It was unlikely they would recognise her in jeans and a baseball cap but she’d assumed the drone footage would have been shown to the families and she couldn’t risk being spotted and therefore destroying the illusion.
She’d been knackered anyway and quite happy to crash back at the flat with a large glass of wine and a takeaway pizza.
Shilpa and Sybil had messaged to say that the kids had gone wild with excitement when Zennor had been spotted and they’d send over the footage as soon as possible. The drone operator had made such a brilliant video of the clips that even Zennor believed she was real.
On Sunday, Matt had also messaged her to ask how she was and then he phoned to discuss a list of the work that he proposed to do – or his contractors would do.
Zennor had politely but firmly said she was fine and kept the conversation strictly to business.
She’d resigned herself to his team – and Matt himself – being in her orbit for the foreseeable.
They’d agreed to rewire the office at a weekend when it was closed.
The new windows would be an issue but that couldn’t be helped since it was weather dependent and would have to be done in stages.
It felt as if the work was going to take the whole summer, but it had to be done while there was more daylight and the weather was more reliable.
‘Mummy! Come on,’ Zennor heard Sierra say, drawing her attention back to the present moment.
Jake and the kids caught up with them and Sierra tugged Roo by the hand.
‘Must go. Fairy Workshop starting any time,’ Roo squeaked, already being hauled away. ‘See you around.’
‘I’m going to listen to Sybil in the Woodland Dell. See you later!’
With a couple of encouraging words to some of her clients en route, Zennor made her way through the crowds to the Woodland Dell and sat on a log seat at the rear, ready for Sybil’s family-friendly stories of Cornish myths and legends, while a scarier grown-up version was scheduled for later in the evening.
The Dell had a low, round wooden stage, a painted backdrop of a night-time forest, and log seating for around fifty people.
Dappled sunlight filtered gently through the canopy, creating a mysterious, tranquil atmosphere.
A sense of anticipation rippled through the audience as folk music tinkled out and a woman in a long velvet cloak appeared amid what looked like smoke.
Wafting the cloud away, Sybil stared at the audience in amazement.
‘Hello! How did you all get here? I was on my way somewhere else, somewhere a long time ago – but somehow I’ve landed here in the wrong century. Why are you all wearing those funny shoes and what are those metal things in your hands? Yes, you, young man – are you staring at an enchanted mirror?’
The boy, about eight, hid his phone behind his back and the adults laughed.
Sybil heaved an exaggerated sigh. ‘I was going to Bodmin to warn the people that Giant Tregeagle had been sighted on the moor but now I’m here, I suppose I could warn you people. You do seem to need advice about how dangerous this land can be …’
Sybil began her show, drawing gasps, laughter and oohs of amazement as she told the audience about the legends of yesteryear, many involving witches, merfolk and banished baddies like Giant Tregeagle.
While a few older children stayed on their phones, most of the audience had set aside their tech for the twenty minutes that Sybil performed, which was no mean feat.
Despite having heard most of the tales before, Zennor was impressed that Sybil found fresh ways of relating them or added new myths to entrance the audience.
‘So, if you’re out and about on the moor on a dark and stormy night, you might want to take extra care … they say Giant Tregeagle stalks Cornwall to this very day. And your phones won’t save you from him!’
Sybil’s warning had some of the younger kids shrinking closer to their parents while even the slightly older ones were wide-eyed. Zennor thought Sybil had pitched things about right with a mix of scary stories and magical fairytales.
There was a warm round of applause and a couple of families spoke to Sybil before they headed off to other attractions.
Zennor joined her on the empty stage and Sybil drew a Chilly bottle from her bag and sipped it.
‘How was that?’ she asked. ‘Not too scary?’
‘I was terrified,’ Zennor said, but then smiled. ‘I think it had just enough edge to keep people looking out for Giant Tregeagle on the moors and beaches.’
‘Are you here for the night-time version? It’s a bit racier.’ Sybil had a gleam in her eye.
‘I’d like to be. What time is it?’
‘Eight thirty. It’ll still be light but with the tree cover it should be gloomy enough for the lanterns to create a spooky atmosphere.
Should have cooled down by then too.’ Sybil shrugged off her cloak and shook her hair out.
‘How are you after the mermaid incident? I heard Matt came to your rescue.’
‘My rescue? Who told you that?’ Zennor asked, trying to sound casual. ‘What have they been saying?’
Sybil frowned. ‘If by “they” you mean Roo, then she explained why she couldn’t pick you up and she called Matt and he collected you. I realised you kept well away from the kids afterwards but thought it was a bit odd that you hadn’t mentioned Matt was involved when I messaged you after the party.’
‘It’s not odd. I didn’t think it was relevant … I think we should move. The fire jugglers want to set up.’
Sybil grimaced. ‘That’s one show I’ll definitely not be watching.
’ She shuddered. ‘I think they’re mad. My mother once set a chip pan on fire and burned her arm.
Dad and I had to take her to hospital and I haven’t forgotten how awful it was.
I had nightmares for years. I hate it when directors want to use pyrotechnics on stage. ’
‘How horrible for you,’ Zennor said. ‘Shall we go to the green room and I’ll buy you a G & T?’
On the way to the artists’ rest area, Sybil resumed her interrogation over a drink. ‘Is there anything else I should know? I can’t imagine you were overjoyed to see Matt instead of Roo.’
‘Not overjoyed but I needed – a lift back and Roo did her best. It was fine.’
‘So, peace has broken out between you?’
‘I suppose it has. We’ve agreed to be polite and to set our differences aside while he renovates the office and the Surf Club.’
‘Good. You can hardly spend the next few months simmering with resentment and giving each other evils.’
Just watch us, Zennor thought but said nothing because they’d entered the open-sided barn where a man in a bear costume, minus the head, was scrolling through his phone while drinking a can of Coke.
Jesters, harlequins, fairies and witches were sipping cappuccinos, wearing headphones and huddled over laptops.
Sybil filled her water bottle from an urn packed with lemons and limes. ‘I must say this is all very positive. About Matt, I mean.’
‘It’s – what it is. I’m not thrilled he’s come back to St Ives, but now he’s here, we’ve no choice but to deal with it.’
‘I am glad. I haven’t liked seeing you two at odds. Even though I haven’t seen that much of Matt lately, I am still his godmother. It’s been upsetting to see you so lost after you and Trev split. I can’t help thinking I could have done more.’
‘How could you have done more? You’ve been a great friend to me, especially with Mum and Dad moving away.’
‘Hmm. More like a surrogate auntie,’ Sybil said wryly.