10
‘Are you coming to the meeting?’ I ask Flynn on Friday evening as I wolf down my cheese sandwich.
‘Wouldn’t miss it for the world.’ He sits opposite me at the kitchen table. ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to heat up some casserole? There’s some left.’
‘No time.’ I take a gulp of water and slide my report into the front pocket of my folder. Then I look across and notice he’s spattered with paint and has what I think is a hazel twig hanging from one side of his sandy blond head.
‘God, you’re a mess.’ I reach over to pull the twig from his hair. ‘What have you been up to?’
‘Just more clearing.’ He shrugs lightly. ‘But never mind me. You need to focus on your meeting, and I need to grab a quick shower, otherwise I’ll miss all the fun.’
I give him a thumbs up as I drop my plate into the sink. ‘I’ll keep tomorrow evening free, I promise.’
I realise as I dash out the door that apart from a few breezy chats across the dinner table, we haven’t spent much time catching up since I moved in.
I’ve been busy working on my festival report, and Flynn seems preoccupied too.
When he’s not off doing jobs for Pat, he’s buried deep in papers or jotting in that notebook he carries all the time.
Or strolling around in a skimpy towel playing havoc with my fizzing hormones.
Okay, that was only once, but the image is scorched in my brain, and at night when I’m alone in my bed, with Flynn downstairs, sound asleep, that picture plays in glorious technicolour like I’m watching some steamy erotic movie and Flynn’s the hot leading man.
But he’s not my hot leading man. He’s my friend.
And I want to make sure that this time we hold on to our friendship, even after he leaves.
Maybe tonight, after the meeting, if everything goes well, we can open a bottle of wine, and I’ll ask him about his life in Cricket Falls, and I’ll tell him about my life in Oakwood, or at least the parts that don’t feature Jamie.
Maybe tonight, if everything goes well, we can reconnect.
I’m first into the meeting hall apart from Gertrude and Finbarr, posted, as usual, up the front.
I emailed my report as soon as I finished it last night, and I spotted it open on Gertrude’s screen this morning at work.
They’re both holding what looks like printed copies, so I presume they’ve read it by now.
‘What do you think?’ I venture hopefully when I reach the small stage.
‘Obviously the recommendations are a first draft, and I’ll amend based on any feedback we get.
’ I take a quick breath. ‘I’ve listed all the suggestions on the following pages, but I’ve only put the shortened version as there’s no way I could include everything. ’
Gertrude sniffs. She was beside me at the desk yesterday when I finally told Moll that three pages of objections was way past the limit, and I really did have to close at half past five as I needed to get home to type it all up.
‘It’s very ambitious.’ She purses her lips.
‘Is it?’ It really isn’t. Not compared to a lot of festivals these days.
‘There’s a lot to organise. And a lot to supervise.’
‘Ah, not really. Not if we divide up the jobs.’ I nod encouragingly, although I think it’s me I’m trying to encourage, as much as her.
‘I’ll put out a call for volunteers once we agree our events plan.
And if we ask people to help with one activity each that’ll spread the workload. I think we’ll be fine.’
She tuts. ‘That just gives us more people to supervise. Even more work.’
‘No, that’s my point.’ I nod again. ‘Each person will be responsible for their own task, we’ll just let them get on with it.’
Her eyes widen in horror, and I rush to reassure her. ‘Of course, the younger kids will need a grown-up to help them. But the adults can manage their own events. And the older teenagers can supervise the movie night.’
‘The teenagers?’ Gertrude almost shrieks. ‘You want to leave a gang of teenagers alone in a deserted back yard? With a movie projector, and a chiminea, and God knows what else.’ She’s on her feet now, pacing, and I follow, keeping my voice as steady as I can. I need to let her know I’ve got this.
‘It’s not a deserted back yard. It’s down the end of Pat’s shop yard and the area is covered by a pergola.
It’s really well laid out and he’s been showing old movies there for years.
And he’s happy to set it up and leave them to it.
He even offered to drop in between their movies, and tell a few ghost stories, if they want. ’
Gertrude presses her hands to the side of her head and stares at me bug-eyed. ‘Are you out of your mind? The last person you want supervising a bunch of rowdy teenagers is Pat. He’s far too laid-back. He’ll probably supply them with a vat of his home-made cider.’
‘I’m sure he won’t,’ I tell her. ‘And their parents will either be across in the Corner Bar or home at the end of a phone, so they can’t come to much harm.
’ I sigh, not ready to give up. ‘I’ll ask Ella if she’s willing to help.
I don’t think she’s planning to go to the Samhain session, and she already runs their teen book club, so the movie night was her idea. ’
And I’m sure I can trust her to strike a balance between letting everyone have fun while also keeping things safe.
I think about telling Gertrude that if the teenagers are not safely tucked up at Pat’s, then they’re likely to be lighting a bonfire of their own down by the lake. But she looks hassled enough as it is.
Finbarr stands and gestures for me to take the seat next to Gertrude’s. ‘You’re first up on our agenda. So why don’t you read out what you have. And we’ll see what everyone makes of it, eh?’
I’m not sure I like that smug expression on his ruddy bearded face.
‘Great, we’ll be here for the night,’ Gertrude mutters, just loud enough for me to hear.
One hour later, we’ve agreed a draft programme for the festivities, with children’s story time and craft workshops throughout the week at the library, a treasure trail and nature walk through Oakwood Forest on the day itself, and on Halloween night, a spooky Samhain music session at the Corner Bar for adults and the scary movie get-together for teenagers at Pat’s.
The meeting has gone more smoothly than I expected, thanks to the fact that Moll and Barty have just come down with nasty colds and have taken to their beds.
We have a jam-packed schedule for the Friday afternoon, but I have made sure to include a Scary Stingy Jack contest using Barty’s turnips, as well as Pat’s pumpkins, so I’m hoping that will be enough to keep them off my back when they’re up and about again.
‘Last on the list,’ I announce, ‘is our Pumpkin Sculpture Contest, Oakwood style. We’ll need donations of pumpkins, if anyone can help with that.
But you can use whatever you like for the sculpture.
Timber, wire, old clothes, crochet yarn.
And of course, pumpkins. Anything at all, as long as the finished sculpture resembles a pumpkin, or pumpkins. ’
I smile around the room to let everyone know there’s no need to take this competition too seriously. ‘The main thing is to get creative, express yourself, and have fun. Oh, and by the way, the theme is Pumpkin Love. You can interpret that anyway you choose.’
Finbarr rolls his eyes, but I ignore him.
‘We’re going to need an empty shed or covered space where the teams can work on their sculptures. In case it rains.’ I look around hopefully.
Flynn’s in the front row and he raises his hand. And my eyes widen as I wonder how he can possibly help.
He stands, turns to smile at the crowd, then back to me, and says, ‘I can help you with that.’
‘Really?’ My eyes pop wider. I can’t imagine where he has in mind, unless he’s going to offer the garden at Hazel Cottage. But that’s not very big and it only has a tiny shed.
‘Sure. You can use the yard directly behind Pat’s shop, and the main shed. I cleared it out completely this week, so there’s plenty of space, and you’re welcome to it.’
He sits down again, and I stand here frowning, about to ask if he’s sure, and should he not check with Pat before he promises.
But then a chair scrapes down the back, and a familiar, confident voice booms out, ‘And what about the new plastics factory? Are you sure they won’t have moved in by Halloween? ’
Jamie? When did Jamie get here? And what is he on about?
Plastics factory? There’s no plastics factory in Oakwood.
I realise I’ve said this last part out loud as he pushes back his chair, marches up the aisle, and on to the stage.
He eases the mic from my fingers as if he’s doing me a favour before he turns to address the crowd.
‘Not yet.’ He presses his palm to his chest and sighs heavily.
Those after-school drama classes weren’t wasted.
‘I hate to be the one to break this to you all.’ He carries on as though every word is causing him pain.
‘And I hope it’s only a rumour, but you know what they say, there’s no smoke without fire. ’
‘Spit it out, for goodness’ sake,’ Gertrude snaps, and I wheel around to see her scowling. He shoots her a benevolent smile, then focuses on the front row. Flynn leans back and arches his brows. As if to say Go on then, give us your best shot.
The rest of the crowd don’t look nearly as relaxed, and Finbarr jumps to his feet to face Jamie. ‘What are you on about, man? If you know something we don’t, and if it is what it sounds like, then you’d better speak up. And speak up fast.’