Chapter Nine
The second fundraiser committee meeting was as wonderfully chaotic as the first, though at least it finished with a vaguely realistic list of plans.
Annabelle had arrived early at Blossom's café, armed with her notebook and pens of various colors. And by the time everyone had settled with their tea, she was chomping at the bit to get started.
"Right!" she said brightly. "Let's hear all your brilliant ideas."
Gloria was the first to speak, naturally. She'd worn what appeared to be a theatrical cape for the occasion and had positioned herself at the head of the table like she was about to deliver a soliloquy.
"I've given this considerable thought," Gloria announced, "and what we need is spectacle.
Drama. Theatre!" She swept her arm out dramatically, nearly knocking over Daisy's teacup.
"A full musical production! The children can perform scenes from classic literature, keeping to the library theme.
Perhaps some Oliver Twist? Then we could do a medley, Shakespeare, Dickens, the Brontes… "
"That sounds lovely," Annabelle said diplomatically, "but maybe a bit ambitious for our timeline?"
"Ambition is what separates mediocrity from magnificence," Gloria declared.
"I’ll put down skits and sketches," Annabelle said, beaming.
"What about a raffle?" Blossom suggested from behind the counter. "Simple, effective. Local businesses could donate prizes."
"A kissing booth!" Daisy said suddenly, her face lighting up.
Everyone turned to stare at her.
"You know," Daisy continued enthusiastically, "like at fairs. People pay a pound for a kiss, and all the money goes to the library."
There was a beat of silence.
"Daisy," Blossom said gently, "that's wildly politically incorrect."
"Is it?" Daisy looked genuinely confused.
"Very much so," Arty confirmed.
"Not to mention an excellent way to catch something," added Gloria.
"Oh." Daisy deflated. "What about a hugging booth?"
"Still problematic."
"Right. Okay then." Daisy brightened again almost immediately. "I’ll handle all the deliveries then."
"That would be wonderful," Annabelle said encouragingly, making a note.
They continued throwing ideas around for another twenty minutes until they had a satisfying list of bake sales, sponsored reading challenges, raffles and entertainment.
Then Daisy said, almost casually, "What about asking our famous neighbor?"
Annabelle's pen stopped mid-word.
"Who?" Gloria asked.
Daisy rolled her eyes. "Raven, of course."
Annabelle felt her entire face light up. "Oh my goodness. That's brilliant."
"Is it?" Arty asked cautiously.
"Yes!" Annabelle was already picturing it. "What a perfect opportunity for her to get involved in the community. She could help with the fundraiser, maybe perform, or just make an appearance, and the children would be so excited."
"The entire village would turn out," Blossom agreed. "A celebrity performance would definitely raise money."
"Exactly." Annabelle beamed. "And surely she'd love to help the children. This is for such a good cause."
"Annabelle," Arty said.
But Annabelle was already planning. "We could have her do a short concert, or maybe she could just introduce the acts if she doesn't want to perform. Either way, it would be—"
"Annabelle." Arty's voice was firmer now. "Can I have a word?"
He stood up and gestured toward the door.
Annabelle followed him outside onto the pavement, slightly confused. "What's wrong?"
Arty crossed his arms and gave her a look that was somewhere between amused and concerned. "You're not seriously planning to ask Raven to be part of this fundraiser, are you?"
"Of course I am. It's a wonderful idea."
"Is it, though?"
"Yes," Annabelle said. "She's talented, she's famous, and she's right here in the village. Why wouldn't we ask her?"
"Because," Arty said slowly, like he was explaining something to a small child, "she came here for privacy. She's made that very clear. She doesn't want attention. She doesn't want to be recognized. And she definitely doesn't want to be the star attraction at a village fundraiser."
"But this is different," Annabelle insisted. "This isn't about her fame. This is about helping children. About the library." She smiled brightly. "Surely she'd want to contribute to something meaningful. Deep down, everyone does."
"Has she given you any indication, any indication at all, that she wants to be involved in village activities?"
"Well… not exactly. But that's just because she's new. She's still settling in. Once she understands what we're trying to do…"
"Annabelle." Arty's expression was patient but firm. "I've met Raven. I've talked to her at the pub. She came here to get away from all of this. From people asking her for things. From being on display."
"We're not asking her to be on display," Annabelle said reasonably. "We're asking her to be a neighbor. To help her community. That's completely different."
Arty sighed. "You really believe that, don't you?"
"Of course I do. Because it's true." Annabelle's smile was unwavering. "Everyone wants to belong somewhere, Arty. Everyone wants to be part of something good. They just need someone to show them how."
"And you think you're going to show Raven how to be part of a community?"
"Why not?" Annabelle said brightly. "I showed Jamie Long how to enjoy reading. I convinced Mrs. Patterson to let us do story time in the library garden. I even got Kayley Long to volunteer for the PTA, and everyone said that was impossible."
"This is different."
"How?"
Arty studied her for a long moment, then shook his head. "You know what? Fine. Go ahead and ask her. But don't say I didn't warn you when she tells you to sod off."
"She won't," Annabelle said confidently. "You'll see."
They went back inside, and Annabelle spent the rest of the meeting making plans with the kind of sunny determination that had gotten her through every challenge she'd ever faced.
By the time they all filed out an hour later, she'd convinced herself that asking Raven to help was not only a good idea, it was the perfect idea.
After all, everyone wanted to help children. Even grumpy rockstars who accidentally made their neighbors internet famous.
She just needed to ask in the right way.
???
The next afternoon, Raven was attempting to write when she heard singing.
Terrible, off-key, absolutely dreadful singing.
She tried to ignore it at first, assuming it was coming from somewhere down the road. But the noise got louder. Closer.
And then it stopped. Right outside her cottage.
"Books, books, wonderful books, Come and read them in our nooks, Libraries are special places, Full of stories and friendly faces…"
Raven dropped her guitar and stormed to the window.
There, in her front garden, was a small crowd. Annabelle. The annoying woman from the amateur dramatics society wearing what appeared to be a cape. The bouncy postwoman. And about a dozen children, all clutching sheet music and murdering what might have once been a melody.
"You have got to be kidding me," Raven muttered.
She yanked open the front door and stepped out.
"What," she said, loud enough to cut through the cacophony, "the actual h…. heck is this?" There were children present, after all. She had always been uncomfortable around children.
The singing stopped abruptly.
Annabelle stepped forward, beaming like she'd just done something wonderful instead of organizing what was essentially a musical hostage situation.
"Hi! We're demonstrating our commitment to the library fundraiser."
"You're demonstrating that you're all tone-deaf lunatics," Raven said flatly. "That's not singing. That's… that's assault. On my ears. On music in general."
"We're still learning," Annabelle said, somehow managing to sound cheerful about this fact.
"Learning what? How to cause permanent hearing damage?" Raven looked at the children, who were staring at her with wide eyes. "You. Kids. You're all off-key. Like, impressively off-key. I didn't think it was possible to be that consistently wrong, but congratulations, you've achieved it."
One of the children, a small boy clutching his sheet music like a shield, said, "Are you really Raven?"
"Unfortunately, yes."
"My mum loves your music. And my dad says that you’ve got an impressive pair of kn—"
"Thank you, Thomas," Annabelle interrupted, quite sharply for her.
"Your mum has terrible taste, apparently, because she let you come here and do… this." Raven gestured at the group. "Who wrote this song? Because whoever it was should be arrested."
Theatre-woman, Gloria, that was her name, drew herself up with wounded dignity. "I wrote it."
"Of course you did," Raven muttered. "Look, I don't know what you people want, but…"
"We want you to help with our fundraiser," Annabelle said brightly.
"No."
"The library is closing," Annabelle continued, as if Raven hadn't spoken. "We need to raise fifteen thousand pounds, and we thought—"
"I said no."
"—that you might want to contribute. Maybe perform, or help organize—"
"No."
"—and the children would be so excited—"
"I said NO!" Raven practically shouted.
Silence fell over the garden.
Annabelle just kept smiling. Like Raven's shouting hadn't registered at all. Like she was dealing with a slightly difficult toddler instead of a grown woman who was very clearly telling her to fuck off.
"Please?" Annabelle said hopefully.
Raven stared at her.
At her stupidly optimistic face. At her ridiculous cheerfulness. At the way she stood there in a bright yellow cardigan covered in embroidered flowers, looking like she genuinely believed Raven was going to say yes.
And suddenly, all Raven could think about was those dinosaur pajamas.
The way Annabelle had stood in her doorway at midnight, apologizing for asking Raven to be quiet.
The way she'd laughed off the viral video like it was nothing.
The way she'd made tea and offered biscuits when Raven had come over to apologize, even though Raven had humiliated her in front of half a million people.
The way Annabelle had been nothing but kind, even when Raven had given her absolutely no reason to be.
"Fine," Raven heard herself say.
Everyone stared at her.
"What?" Annabelle breathed.
"I'll help with your fundraiser." Raven folded her arms. "But only if you all promise, and I mean promise, to never, ever come to my house and sing at me again."
"Deal," Annabelle said immediately, her entire face lighting up.
"And I'm not joining your village drama society or becoming the local entertainment or whatever other ridiculous ideas you people have."
"Of course not."
"And you have to let me rewrite that song because it's genuinely awful."
Gloria looked offended, but Annabelle was already nodding enthusiastically. "Absolutely. That would be wonderful."
"And after this fundraiser is done, you leave me alone."
"Definitely," Annabelle said, in a tone that suggested she had no intention of actually doing that.
Raven sighed. "Right. Fine. Whatever. Now get off my lawn."
But Annabelle was still beaming at her like Raven had just offered to donate a kidney instead of grudgingly agreeing to help with a village fundraiser just to make them go away.
"Thank you so much," Annabelle said. "This is going to be wonderful. The children will be so excited, and…"
"Just go," Raven said.
She went back inside and shut the door, then leaned against it with her eyes closed.
What the hell had she just agreed to?
She'd come to Bankton to hide. To write. To forget about Alissa and the band and the fact that she hadn't written a decent song in six months.
And somehow, she'd just volunteered to help with a village fundraiser for a library she'd never even seen.
Because Annabelle had stood there in her garden, smiling that stupidly hopeful smile, and all Raven could think about was dinosaur pajamas and the fact that she probably owed her neighbor a favor after the whole viral video disaster.
Not that she'd said that. Obviously.
She pushed away from the door and went back to her guitar.
Outside, she could hear Annabelle's cheerful voice herding the children away, probably telling them all how wonderful this was going to be, how excited they should be, how Raven was secretly lovely underneath all the grumpiness.
"I'm not lovely," Raven muttered to the empty room. "I'm an idiot who can't say no to someone in dinosaur pajamas."
She picked up her guitar and started playing, trying to ignore the fact that the melody coming out was suspiciously cheerful.
And trying very hard not to think about why Annabelle's smile had made her say yes when every instinct had been screaming at her to slam the door and pretend she'd never heard them.