‘Not so fast.’ Joel and Kezzie had crept up quietly behind the kids, who were so intent on what they were doing, they had no idea that anyone was behind them.
Joel grabbed the nearest one, and Kezzie shone the torch in his eyes. The other three stopped in shock, and looked poised to flee, but they were clearly anxious about the fate of their friend.
‘Oi, you can’t touch me,’ said the boy.
‘OK, I’m not touching you,’ said Joel, letting go. He had no desire to spend the evening in a police cell facing charges of assault on a minor, ‘but I am calling the police.’
‘No, please don’t,’ he said, ‘my mum will kill me.’
‘You should have thought about that,’ said Kezzie. ‘Have you any idea how much hard work has gone into making these gardens look nice again? And you lot have destroyed it.’
The boys shrugged, and looked embarrassed.
‘Why do you do it?’ said Kezzie.
‘Dunno,’ said the tallest one, who was looking particularly sheepish.
‘Nuffin’ else to do,’ another of them said, and kicked a stone away from his feet.
‘Why not try and be constructive?’ said Kezzie. ‘Did you know the council is planning to do up this whole area and have ideas for making it more teenager friendly? If you stopped destroying things, people might be prepared to let you have a proper graffiti area.’
‘What? Really?’ The boys looked quite hopeful.
‘Well, I can’t promise anything,’ said Kezzie, ‘it’s not up to me. But they’re never going to agree to anything like that if you keep coming here and ruining everyone’s hard work. You have to stop doing this, or nothing will change.’
There was a whispered conversation, during which Kezzie detected a fair amount of swearing, then one of the boys said, ‘So if we promise not to do it again, will you let us go?’
‘For now,’ said Kezzie.
‘What do you mean, for now?’ The oldest boy eyed her suspiciously.
‘I mean, you can go home now, and we’ll say nothing more about it, but tomorrow you are going to come back here and clean up your mess.’
‘Why should we do that?’ said the tallest and cockiest-looking one.
‘Because if you don’t, we may just change our minds and call the police after all,’ said Joel. ‘The choice is yours.’
The boys looked at each other and muttered something.
‘Right, I want names and numbers,’ said Joel. ‘And I will be ringing your parents and telling them what’s happened.’
The boys looked collectively stricken at that, but when Joel reminded them it was better their parents knew than the police, they gave up their details readily.
‘Nick Carmichael,’ Joel whistled, as he recognized one of the names given him, ‘and your mum and dad have helped out too.’
Nick shifted anxiously from one foot to the other.
‘They’re going to kill me,’ he said. His woebegone manner was so comical, Joel nearly laughed out loud, but he adopted a stern look, and said, ‘Well, I hope you’ve learnt your lesson. We’ll see you back here on Saturday morning at nine o’ clock.’
Nine a.m. on Saturday found Kezzie and Joel back at the gardens organizing the boys, and some of their mates, whom they sheepishly admitted had helped on previous occasions, to clean up the plinth with paint stripper supplied by Nick’s dad. Rose Carmichael had been furious when she’d found out and Nick had been grounded for a month, or so she claimed. ‘I might let him off for good behaviour,’ she whispered to Kezzie behind his back, ‘but he’s going to have to work very hard for it.’
With Rose there to oversee things, the boys pretty much got down to work straight away. They clearly regarded her with awe as someone not to be crossed, and in record time they had cleaned all the graffiti off the plinth. Kezzie organized another group to replant the borders with the plants that had been pulled out, and took it upon herself to give them a gardening lesson.
‘I do understand about being bored and destructive, you know,’ she said, as she showed them how to dig in the roots properly. ‘But it’s much better to do something constructive.’
The boys didn’t look wholly convinced, but they seemed to enjoy her tales of guerrilla gardening, so maybe some of what she’d said wasn’t falling on deaf ears.
By lunchtime, the gardens had been restored again, and they were able to send the boys home, but not without Rose issuing dire warnings of what would happen to them if they caused trouble again.
‘We certainly won’t hesitate to call the police next time,’ Joel said.
‘Thanks for not doing it this time,’ said Nick, putting his hands in his pockets.
‘Did you mean it about having a place to graffiti properly?’ said one of his mates.
Kezzie looked at Joel. ‘Well, it’s certainly something that the council is considering. Could you promise not to vandalize other bits of the village if you had somewhere like that?’
‘Yes,’ the boys’ faces lit up with enthusiasm. ‘And if we had a skating park as well, that would be cool,’ one said.
‘We only did it cos we were bored,’ another agreed.
‘We’ve got a meeting coming up for the Summer Fest,’ said Kezzie. ‘I’ve mentioned it before, but we could try and do up the old pavilion and have that as a place for you guys to go to.’
‘That would be wicked,’ said Nick.
‘It’s conditional on your good behaviour though,’ warned Kezzie. ‘We won’t do it if you continue to mess about.’
‘No worries,’ said Nick, ‘we’ll be good as gold from now on.’
‘You’d better,’ admonished Kezzie, but she grinned. They weren’t bad kids; they were like she’d been, bored and idle. If they could be encouraged to more constructive pursuits, it could only be a good thing.
‘Do you think we can swing it?’ Joel said. ‘You know how stuffy some of those Parish Councillors are.’
‘I have no idea,’ said Kezzie, ‘but it’s got to be worth a try.’
Chapter Twenty-Six
Joel snuck in to the Summer Fest meeting, late again. It was packed. Thanks to Eileen’s amazing efforts with flyers and posters, there probably wasn’t a soul left in Heartsease who didn’t know about it, and she’d managed to drum up lots more volunteers. Even Joel, who didn’t go down into Heartsease that often, was aware that there was a growing enthusiasm about the event. He searched around for somewhere to sit, and, having immediately clocked that there was a spare seat next to Lauren, he tried in vain to look for another one. There wasn’t another one. Lauren spotted him scan the room, and waved him over. Damn. He’d have to sit next to her now.
He struggled his way past several other people and slid gratefully into his seat, conscious of Lauren’s nearness to him, of how lovely she looked, of how awkward he felt. Apart from brief conversations on her doorstep, he had barely spoken to her for several weeks. Their old easy intimacy seemed to have vanished into the mist since Troy had moved in. He was the unspoken barrier between them.
Lauren gave him a shy smile, and whispered, ‘You OK?’
‘Fine,’ Joel replied. ‘You?’
‘Great,’ said Lauren.
‘Good,’ said Joel. ‘That’s good.’
He felt despairing. Was this the best they could do? Making inane comments at one another? He tried again.
‘Have I missed anything?’ he whispered. Cynthia was in full stride, demanding to know why it was going to be necessary to close the High Street for the day.
‘It hasn’t really started properly,’ said Lauren.
‘That’s a relief,’ said Joel. ‘Sam wouldn’t settle for Christine and I couldn’t get away.’
‘Did you give him Snuffles?’
Snuffles was Sam’s favourite rabbit, without which he wouldn’t go to sleep.
‘Unfortunately Snuffles is in the wash, having had a bottle of milk poured all over him,’ said Joel. ‘I had to prise him out of Sam’s grasp.’
‘Bet th
at went down well,’ grinned Lauren, and Joel felt a surge of pleasure. That was better. This was the Lauren he knew. Lauren was the only person he could talk to like this about Sam, but over the last few weeks their conversations had become stilted and forced. He had taken her so much for granted, and now he missed her.
‘Are you really OK?’ Lauren asked.
‘Of course, why?’ said Joel.
‘Only,’ Lauren looked embarrassed, ‘I thought you might be upset with me.’
‘Why should I be upset with you?’
‘Because of the party, and what I said,’ said Lauren. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.’
It wrenched Joel’s heart in two to see her being so kind and thoughtful and wasting all that loveliness on Troy.
‘You haven’t offended me,’ he lied.
‘And you don’t mind about me and Troy?’
The million dollar question. Of course he minded. But he couldn’t say anything, not if he wanted to retain their friendship.
‘It’s none of my business,’ said Joel. ‘What you do is up to you.’
‘You don’t have to pretend,’ said Lauren. ‘I’ve had everyone from my mum to Kezzie telling me what an idiot I’m being. Kezzie in particular was most vehement about it, so I’m assuming you agree with them.’
‘Look, Lauren,’ said Joel, feeling even more awkward, ‘what I or anyone else thinks about it is neither here or there, so long as you’re happy.’
‘I am,’ said Lauren firmly, and she looked it.
‘Then I’m happy for you,’ said Joel, wishing he meant it.
Eileen called them to order at that moment, and the meeting got underway.
‘Well, we’ve got less than two months to go,’ said Eileen, ‘and I think things are coming along a treat. Thanks to all of you who’ve been working so hard putting flyers up everywhere. And a big thanks to Keith, who I know has been breaking his back in the café doing special promotions designed to get his customers to come back on the day.’
‘It all makes great business sense, darling,’ gushed Keith, ‘I’m not that altruistic.’
‘I’ve been on the phone to the people at Radio Chiverton and I’m pleased to announce they are going to spend the whole day here. Joel has done a great job getting us New Horizons who are going to open the proceedings, and they may even play. Tony, how are we getting on with the field, have we got all the relevant permissions to use it yet?’
‘Nearly sorted,’ said Tony. ‘I don’t think it will be a problem.’
‘Brilliant,’ continued Eileen. ‘I am also pleased to announce that Sally and Andy from the Labourer’s Legs are kindly hosting the Pimms tent, and as you know, George Anderson from the butcher’s is providing a hog roast and barbecue all day. I hope you like his minty lamb sausages!’
That raised a laugh; George Anderson’s minty lamb sausages were legendary in Heartsease.
Cynthia sniffed. ‘Are we to assume that this “Summer Fest” is losing all the traditional elements of our normal fete? I hope there’s still going to be a tombola at least.’
‘You can be in charge of it,’ assured Eileen. ‘We’re planning to have all the traditional stalls in the field along with fun activities for the children. As you know, the High Street is going to be closed, and there will be plenty of interesting stalls to catch the eye there, and we’ll be having the choir singing madrigals at lunchtime.
‘In the afternoon, the Mayor of Chiverton is going to re-open the Memorial Gardens, which I think you’ll agree look stunning. And we’ve also got several of our community opening their gardens to the public in the afternoon, including that belonging to our very own Joel. As most of you probably know, Joel’s great great grandfather, Edward Handford, created a knot garden at Lovelace Cottage and Kezzie has been helping Joel restore it. It’s well worth going to have a look if you’ve got time.’
‘That sounds terrific, Eileen,’ said Tony. ‘I think the rest of the committee and I all have to thank you for your immense hard work.’
There was a heartfelt round of clapping and Eileen blushed.
‘Well, I couldn’t do it without all of you,’ she said. ‘So thank you so much. Now, is there any other business?’
‘Have we thought any more about how we’re going to use the funds we raise?’ Joel asked. ‘I know we’re planning to upgrade the playground equipment, but as I think some of you may have heard, Kezzie and I managed to confront the lads who’ve been vandalizing the gardens. Part of the problem is they’re bored. So we’re hoping that the idea of turning the old pavilion into a drop-in centre for teens is still on the cards. I think it would benefit the village enormously.’
Cynthia sniffed loudly. ‘They need a short sharp shock,’ she said. ‘They shouldn’t be rewarded for bad behaviour.’
‘They’re not bad kids,’ said Joel, ‘and I think they’ve learnt their lesson: they just need somewhere to go.’
‘I agree,’ said Tony, ‘and I promise to raise it as a matter of some urgency at the next Parish Council meeting.’
The meeting broke up then, and Lauren got up to go.
‘Would you like a lift?’ said Joel.
‘Thanks,’ said Lauren. ‘If it’s not too much trouble.’
‘Nothing would ever be too much trouble for you,’ said Joel, and then kicked himself for sounding corny.
Joel drove Lauren home in silence. His emotions were too churned up for him to speak. To be sitting so close to her, and yet knowing how far away from him she was, left him in a state of utter despair.
‘You’re quiet,’ said Lauren, as she got out of the car.
‘Got a lot on my mind,’ said Joel. ‘Work, you know.’
‘So long as it’s nothing to do with me.’
‘No, of course not,’ Joel forced a smile. ‘I’m pleased you’re happy.’
But as he watched her walk up the path to a waiting Troy, he felt like kicking himself. Because he’d been so stupid, and hadn’t seen how he felt about Lauren, he’d left her wide open for Troy’s return. It should have been him with Lauren, not Troy. He’d blown his chance.
Kezzie was working late on Joel’s garden. As the evenings got longer she found it increasingly hard to tear herself away, particularly when the garden was finally beginning to take shape and she was able to see the sort of garden Edward had wanted to create. Well, at least she hoped it was how he’d wanted it. She often thought about Edward when she was out there, patiently working on the garden just as she had done, preparing a wedding present for the woman he loved. She wondered if anyone would love her that much ever again. She’d thought Richard might have done once, but that possibility was gone for good.
She often felt as if Edward Handford were there when she was in the garden, a friendly ghost looking over her shoulder. Sometimes, as the early summer afternoon faded to dusk, she imagined she could see him, standing on the steps of the house, looking towards her, as if approving. She knew it was fanciful, but she liked to think they were connected. She hoped he would have been pleased with her restoration.
As the sun set slowly over the valley, casting golden shadows on the grass, she reluctantly packed her things away, and checked her watch. Damn, she was going to miss the meeting. Joel had called to her an hour before to ask her if she was going, and she’d said yes. Kezzie would have to check with him and Lauren what she’d missed.
Lauren. Kezzie felt really guilty about Lauren. Having failed dismally to confront Lauren with the truth about Troy and then argued with her about him, Kezzie had spent the last few weeks avoiding her. She was going to have to come up with an excuse as to why some time.
It was dusk as Kezzie walked down the path to her house, and she saw to her dismay that Troy was putting out the bins. It was the first time she’d seen him on his own since the party. How awkward. For the first time she wished that Jo had grown a great big hedge between the properties instead of having a white picket fence that looked as though it had come out of an episode of Little House o
n the Prairie.
‘Well, hi there, neighbour,’ said Troy, coming up rather too close. ‘I haven’t seen you in a while.’
‘I’ve been busy,’ said Kezzie, shortly. She didn’t want to talk to Troy. What was there to say to him?
‘That’s not very friendly,’ said Troy, ‘I was only making polite conversation.’
‘Look, Troy, I don’t want to be rude,’ said Kezzie, ‘but I’m tired and it’s late, and I don’t think it’s the best idea if we spend too much time together.’
‘I was only talking,’ said Troy, lighting a cigarette, ‘or don’t you trust yourself around me?’
‘Puh-lease,’ said Kezzie, ‘don’t flatter yourself. I am not interested in you.’
‘That’s what they all say,’ said Troy, winking.
He reeked of booze and fags. Kezzie was no angel and not that hot on responsibility, but even she wouldn’t have done that if she was babysitting young children.
‘Well, must get on,’ said Kezzie. ‘See you.’
‘Not soon enough,’ said Troy, lighting a cigarette and blowing smoke in her direction.
‘It is for me,’ said Kezzie, and fled inside. Really, he was the pits, and yet Lauren seemed blind to his faults. How on earth could Kezzie let her know the truth?
Lauren got out of Joel’s car with a feeling of relief. It had been awkward for the last few weeks. She couldn’t blame him for being reticent with her, given what he’d said to her at the party, but she was relieved there were no hard feelings. And at least he wasn’t on her case about Troy like everyone else. Kezzie in particular had a real downer on him. Lauren felt bad about it; she’d barely seen Kezzie for weeks. It seemed silly to be arguing over a bloke.
As Joel drove off, Lauren looked at her watch and, deciding it wasn’t too late, thought she may as well call in on Kezzie. She texted Troy to say she’d be back soon. He texted back with: keeping the bed warm, babe. It gave her a warm glow all over to think of him waiting for her. The long, lonely years of going solo seemed to be over. She loved having someone at home to wait up for her.
Summer Season Page 24
