Chapter Nineteen
The following Saturday afternoon brought Lydia to the church hall, which smelled faintly of floor polish and the lingering sweetness of yesterday’s youth group biscuits.
Afternoon sunlight slanted through the tall windows, warming the wooden floorboards as she let herself in.
She arrived early, as she always did, her notebook tucked under her arm and her colour-coded folders balanced against her hip.
Mark was already there, of course, fussing with a stack of plastic chairs as though they were a major pastoral responsibility.
“You don’t have to do all of that,” Lydia said, setting her things on the front table.
“I know,” Mark replied, continuing to test each chair leg with exaggerated seriousness. “Some of these chairs have seen better days. I’d rather check them than have one collapse under somebody.”
Lorna, seated sensibly in a chair Mark had personally approved, gave Lydia a conspiratorial smile. “He’s been like this all day. I’m letting him get it out of his system.”
Lydia laughed, smoothing the heavy tablecloth. “Well, at least he’s useful.”
Volunteers began to arrive — Mrs Rowcroft with her knitting bag, a few teenagers from the youth group, and James Fellows wheeling in a trolley loaded with crates and laminated signs from last year. Lydia greeted each of them warmly, ticking names off her list.
She was laying out blank sign-up sheets when she heard the unmistakable sound of children’s voices in the corridor — chatter, footsteps, and the soft thud of someone bumping into a wall.
The Parkers. Her heart gave a small, unexpected lift.
Sam appeared first, holding Jake’s hand.
Jean followed with Mia and Sophie close beside her, and Ollie bounding ahead like an enthusiastic puppy.
William came behind them, his hair still slightly damp, sleeves pushed up, looking rested.
Ethan brought up the rear, tall and composed, a new assurance in the way he carried himself.
“Hello, Lydia,” Jean said warmly. “We’re here to help — or at least, the ones who won’t cause total chaos are.”
“That rules me out,” Sam muttered.
Lydia laughed. “I’m very glad you’re all here.”
William stepped forward with a small, warm smile. “Ethan told me you needed hands. We’re all free today, so we thought we’d get stuck in.”
Ethan added, “Dad said he’ll help on the day too.”
There it was again — that steady, earnest way she was beginning to recognise in him.
“That’s wonderful,” Lydia said. “Truly.”
Ollie tugged at her sleeve. “Can I help with the games? I’m good at games. I beat Dad at Connect Four last week.”
Jake, still leaning against Sam’s leg, gave a tiny nod of agreement.
Lydia crouched beside Jake and looked up at Ollie. “You can both help. We’ll need testers for everything.”
Ollie beamed. Jake nodded again. Mia and Sophie hovered a little behind Jean, their hands linked.
“Hello, Mia. Hello, Sophie,” Lydia said gently.
Mia nodded politely. Sophie gave the smallest wave before slipping half behind her sister.
Mark clapped his hands together. “Right, everyone — shall we make a start?”
The room settled. Lydia opened her notebook.
“Thank you all for coming. Since this is our first full volunteer meeting, today is mostly about deciding who’s doing what and looking at what we already have from last year.”
James rested one hand on the trolley. “I’ve kept all this in the shed at the harbour,” he said. “Some of it’s in good nick… some of it has seen better days.”
A ripple of amusement moved through the room.
“That’s why we’re here,” Lydia said. “We’ll sort through it all and see what we can use.”
She divided the room into small groups. The Parkers joined Lydia’s group — Sam, Jean, William, Ethan, Mia, Sophie, Ollie and Jake.
“Well,” she said, smiling, “it looks as though I’ve got a very capable crew.”
Ollie puffed up proudly. “We aim to please.”
Jean elbowed him. “We aim to behave.”
William gave a dry, amused huff. “We aim to keep Ollie from dismantling anything important.”
Ethan grinned. “I aim to lift the heavy things.”
Ollie raised his hand. “I aim to win.”
Jake, now fully awake, made a soft approving noise, which Lydia took as wholehearted agreement.
James brought over the first crate. Lydia opened it, and the group leaned in. Inside lay a cheerful jumble of Carnival relics — faded beanbags, a ring toss stand with a wobbly leg, wooden ducks needing fresh paint, a tangle of skipping ropes, frayed bunting, chalk, and a few cracked hoops.
“Right,” Lydia said. “Let’s see what we can salvage.”
Ethan tested the hoops, separating those that could be repaired from the ones beyond saving.
Sam examined the ring toss stand with the seriousness of a man assessing structural integrity.
Jean sorted beanbags into piles, muttering approvingly about the stitching.
Ollie and Jake inspected the ducks with great solemnity.
“This one’s got a funny eye,” Ollie announced.
Jake nodded, confirming the diagnosis.
Lydia smiled, then crouched to peer into the cupboard at the back of the hall — the one that always seemed to hide forgotten treasures. Behind a stack of folding tables, she spotted a dusty wooden frame with a faded label tied to it: STOCKS — CARNIVAL 2009.
“Well,” she said, dragging it carefully into view, “look what’s been hiding back here.”
Sam laughed. “The old stocks! I thought those were long gone.”
“They’re still sturdy,” Lydia said, testing the hinged upper board. “A bit of sanding and a fresh coat of oil, and they’ll be perfect for the ‘Soak the Pastor’ stall.”
Mark groaned from across the room. “I knew those should have stayed lost.”
Laughter rippled through the hall, warm and easy.
They worked through two more crates, chatting as they went — deciding what could be repainted, what needed repairing, and what was beyond saving.
Sam volunteered to check the coconut shy frame.
Jean promised to wash the beanbags. Ethan offered to mend the hoops.
William took charge of the stocks. Ollie declared himself chief tester of everything.
By the time the meeting wrapped up, they had a clear plan and a cheerful sense of purpose. The church hall looked like a small explosion of colour and possibility.
As the Parkers gathered their things, Ethan turned to her.
“Thanks for letting us help,” he said. “I think we needed this.”
Lydia’s expression softened. “I’m glad you came.”
Jean touched her arm in a warm, familiar way. “We’ll see you soon, love.”
As they left, Lydia watched them walk down the path — Sam and Jean chatting, Ollie skipping ahead, Jake clutching his toy car, Mia and Sophie close together, and Ethan walking beside William at the back.
She gathered her folders and lifted the sign-up sheet from the front table. The Parkers’ names were there among the volunteers — no longer simply newcomers being welcomed into village life, but people who had chosen to take part.
Lydia switched off the hall lights and stepped into the late-afternoon sun. They were beginning to belong here. And, somehow, that mattered to her more than she had expected.