33
I’m still working out my next move when I get back to Mam’s. I promised to make a real Irish lunch for her and Cal, but I didn’t have time to rustle up Irish stew, so I made a detour to the Corner Bar and Audrey came to my rescue with home-made potato and leek soup and brown soda bread.
‘Oooh, that smells delicious.’ Mam grabs one of the paper bags slipping from my arms.
I hear a loud appreciative groan and turn to see Cal in the doorway, eyeing up the soda cake Mam’s just unwrapped like he could devour the lot in one hungry bite. ‘Och, you’re right. That does smell good.’ His crinkly eyes twinkle.
‘Hi, Cal, lovely to meet you.’
He crosses the kitchen to shake my hand, and I smile as brightly as I can to make him feel welcome.
‘The soup should still be hot, Audrey lent me a flask.’ I lift out the stainless steel thermos as Mam scoops bowls from the open shelf behind her.
Half an hour later, we’re laughing and chatting like we’ve known each other for years.
And Mam reaches over and squeezes Cal’s hand at the same time as she gives me a grateful smile.
It’s the first time I’ve heard her laugh so loud since Dad died, and it lifts my spirits, because she deserves to be happy. And so do I. My mind drifts back to my new plan when my phone pings from the countertop.
‘Sorry, do you mind if I get that?’ I hop up from my chair.
‘Not at all. Go ahead.’ Mam smiles. ‘And don’t worry about us. We’ll potter around the village and catch up with you later.’
‘But I promised I’d help you show Cal around.’ I wince an apology as my phone pings again as I pick it up.
‘I’m big enough and hairy enough to find my own way.’ Cal beams at me. ‘You go do your thing. And thank you for this. Best lunch I’ve had in years.’ He rubs his rounded middle and laughs. ‘And as you can see, I’m a man who likes his food.’
‘Thanks. But make sure you come to the shop yard for three. Pat and I are judging the pumpkin sculptures, and there’ll be hot chocolate, and spiced lattes, and . . .’ I stare down as I see Flynn’s name fill the notifications on my screen.
‘Go, Gracie, honestly.’ Mam waves me on with a smile. ‘We’ll clear up here.’
Cal gathers our empty bowls and sets them on the counter by the sink, and I take them at their word and sprint to my bedroom clutching my fully charged phone.
Hi Gracie, I think I might have missed you earlier.
I flop down on my patchwork quilt and tap to read the rest of Flynn’s last message.
I went for a run to clear my head and I caught that sweet summer smell when I got back, or maybe I just felt you there, I’m not sure.
Anyway, I know you have a lot on today and I don’t want to get in the way, but I need to see you later, when you have more time.
I’m sorry how we left things last night.
I was hurt and I needed time to process.
But we need to talk. Really talk. And I want to hear everything, even if it’s not what I’m hoping for.
Because no matter what happens, no matter what changes, you’re still my best friend, and I hope I’ll always be yours, Flynn, xx
I sink back onto my pillows and scroll through more messages, mostly festival-related.
But I don’t read more than the first line of any, because if I start, I’ll be here until midnight, and my new plan for tonight, for what I need to do, is forming in my mind.
I have people to contact, props to make, and a costume to put together.
But first I send a message back to Flynn.
Yes, that was me, I called earlier, and you’re right, I am crazy busy, but I promise I’ll find you tonight.
There are things I need to say too. And Flynn, I understand things may need to change and I promise I’m okay with that.
But no matter what happens, where you are, who you’re with, I’ll still be your best friend too, in my heart. Always, Gracie, xx
Ella’s at the desk finishing a sandwich when I reach the library to print out my posters.
I’m about to ask her why she didn’t have lunch in the staffroom when Conal strolls down the stairs, and she swivels her chair to face the wall and stares at her phone.
I wish I had time to dig deeper, especially as I’ve caught Ella checking him out when she thinks nobody’s watching.
But I know she won’t tell me what the issue is – she’s painfully private – and today is Conal’s last day temping with us, so they’re not likely to be working together again. It’s probably just as well.
‘Sorry I’m late, whew,’ I puff when I reach the shop yard at almost five to three, after dropping home my posters.
‘There’s no rush.’ Pat shrugs. ‘The teams are adding the final touches, and the crowd are busy placing bets on who’s going to win soppiest sculpture.’
‘Not soppiest.’ I chuckle. ‘Most romantic. Make sure you don’t say soppiest when you’re calling out the winner.’
He laughs. And then winks. Oh well, I tried.
Pat opened the shed at nine this morning for the teams to assemble and get working on their sculptures for the day.
Our theme is Pumpkin Love, so all the sculptures have to reflect a love story from a favourite book or movie or local folklore.
But the love can be romantic or friendship or family inspired.
There are five teams and we have awards for scariest, funniest, most Celtic inspired, most local themed, and of course, most romantic. So basically, everyone gets a prize. Finbarr wasn’t impressed. But the pumpkin sculpture concept was my idea, so I held my ground.
‘Audrey’s giving out free pumpkin spiced lattes, hot chocolate, and treats. That’ll keep them quiet.’ Pat grins.
‘Are you kidding?’ I laugh. ‘Since when has getting hyped up on sugar ever kept anyone quiet?’
A while later, after lots of laughs and mayhem, we’ve handed out certificates and awarded our prizes.
The best local-inspired sculpture went to a faithful version of Barty and Moll, made with timber stakes and pumpkin heads, complete with wellington boots, a mucky black sack for Barty, and a giant plastic placard for Moll.
They were chuffed as I made sure to announce that as the ‘local heroes’ prize. Finbarr almost choked on his hot chocolate, but I have a job for them tonight and I need them onside.
And my favourite, the most romantic, went to a grumpy/sunshine-themed pumpkin couple, with a smiley orange pumpkin wearing a bright yellow raincoat, and a highly polished buff pumpkin, with crossed arms and a tie.
Yeah, Jamie’s mother was on that team. Not my favourite book boyfriend type. But there’s always next year.
‘What are you wearing later?’ Mam asks as we stroll back to the house together. Aisha spent all week begging her to go as Erin from Derry Girls and she finally gave in. She pushes open our gate and Cal and I follow her through.
‘I’m not sure yet,’ I say. I was thinking Twilight. Flynn’s plaid shirt over a T-shirt and jeans. But Bella downbeat and brooding doesn’t suit my latest plan. Then I get a flash of inspiration as we walk into the kitchen.
‘Actually, Mam, do you still have that black leather jacket you used to wear?’
‘I think it’s in the back of my wardrobe. I haven’t worn it in years.’
‘Could I borrow it?’
‘Of course.’ She drops her keys on the counter. ‘I’ll go have a look for it now.’ She frowns. ‘You know it’s fitted? I’m not sure it’ll work if you’re doing Derry Girls too.’
‘I’m thinking more Washington State Girl. Forks, to be precise.’
‘Ah, brooding Bella’s hometown.’ She cocks her head to one side and scans me up and down. ‘Hmm, blond waves, cute dimples, twinkly green eyes. You might have a of bit work getting into character, Gracie,’ she teases.
‘I’m going with a different take.’ I smile as I wave her out into the hallway. ‘Bella’s final battle. So, the leather jacket will be perfect.’
I gather what I need and lay everything on my bed.
I’ve got Mam’s leather jacket and heeled boots, and my black skinny jeans and black top.
And my brown Bella wig that I rescued from the attic.
My bedroom floor is littered with cardboard sheets, craft scissors, and multicoloured markers.
And Moll and Barty’s placards that I plan to redesign.
I’m still deciding what to tackle first when my phone pings, and I stare at the stream of photos Olena uploaded to our festival chat.
Flynn features in almost every shot. Sitting smiling on a bench.
Crouched on his hunkers, patiently explaining something to a huddle of small boys.
Then leading a merry band of followers down a path behind the picnic area as he points to a cedar tree, no doubt passing on one of Pat’s treasured tales.
And the thing that strikes me more than anything is how happy he looks, like he’s exactly where he wants to be, right where he belongs. And any trace of doubt, any trace of guilt about my new plan, ebbs from my mind. I’m doing this for him as much as me.
‘Do you have anywhere I can stash these?’ I give Audrey a hopeful smile.
I spent the evening on my bedroom floor, making signs and placards for my Samhain session theme. Then I roped Sarah in to help carry those and my posters over to the Corner Bar. In fairness, I did call ahead to warn Audrey, and she doesn’t look like she minds.
‘Follow me, ladies.’ She waves us to the wall by the arch that leads to the back bar then she lifts the seat of a long mahogany bench. ‘There should be room in here. I use it to store the beer garden cushions, but I have new storage outside so this is empty now.’
‘It’s perfect, thanks.’ I drop in my refurbished placards and most of my signs.
‘You certainly made enough.’ Sarah grins. ‘One for everybody in the village?’
‘Pretty much. But maybe I should wait for later to put the posters up.’
‘If you’re worried about Flynn popping in, he was here not long ago with Pat,’ Audrey says. ‘Said he was off to catch a few hours’ sleep. The poor lad looked exhausted.’