The Great Village Show

by Alexandra Brown

  Dan coughs dramatically to get my attention.

  ‘Are you going to answer me?’ he asks, giving my hands a gentle squeeze.

  ‘Um, sorry?’ I lean in so he can hear me over the sudden whooshing noise of the gas as it’s released up into the balloon to keep us afloat.

  But Dan doesn’t ask me again; instead, he lifts my chin and presses his mouth on to mine, hard on my lips, which immediately sting from the sheer force of his kiss. And whoosh! The same feeling comes over me as I had that time in the kitchen. I’m sizzling like a just-lit touchpaper, my body feels as if it’s on fire, and my stomach is swirling – flipping, in fact – over and over so much that it makes me feel dizzy. The air. The sky all around me. The gentle warm breeze in my hair as we float on over my beloved Tindledale.

  I can feel my body relaxing now, releasing, letting go as I melt into Dan’s embrace, his lips softening, kissing me tenderly too, and I kiss him back before drawing my hands free from his and flinging them around his neck. I can’t help myself. In this moment, I feel happy and light. I haven’t felt this way in such a long time – if ever, in fact – and I don’t want the feeling to end.

  Eventually, we break apart. Dan’s forehead is resting on mine, and then he moves his mouth up to kiss the bridge of my nose. We both laugh, unsure really of what to say, until Dan gently turns me around. Standing behind me, he places his arms around my back to rest his hands on the edge of the basket in front of me, and we just stand, together, silently embracing the view all around us, the fields dotted with sheep and buttercups and cows and hedgerows and farms and flowers. Now we’re floating above my school; my great village school with the clock tower on the gabled roof, the tiny patch of tarmac for a playground. I quickly close my eyes and do a silent prayer, a wish, asking for it please to stay open. I even cross my fingers.

  ‘It’ll be fine. You’ll see,’ Dan whispers in my ear, as though reading my thoughts.

  ‘I hope so,’ I say, turning my face sideways up to his, but it’s no use, he’s so tall and my head barely reaches his shoulder, so I have to turn around properly to face him. He lifts a stray lock of hair away from my eyes.

  ‘Tell me,’ he asks again, before quickly adding a very polite, ‘please?’

  And I hesitate, but only momentarily because I can’t deny it any longer, damn it! Dan flaming Wright is very attractive indeed – in a brutish, maverick, and quite frankly rude way. But a man with the audacity to sweep a woman off her feet, literally, before dumping her into a giant basket and kissing her hard on the lips up high in the air has to be worth a shot. And maybe Lawrence was right; perhaps it is time for me to broaden my horizons.

  I look up and into Dan’s eyes.

  I smile and tell him.

  ‘Yes!’

  And maybe Tindledale can do with the likes of Dan Wright, after all …

  Epilogue

  One year later …

  Summertime, and the air is laden with the heavenly sweet aroma from the candyfloss stand on the far side of the village green. Carousel music drifts towards us as we reach the merry-go-round, and I just know that today is going to be a glorious day. A marquee takes pride of place in the centre, dazzling against the blue and white scudding sky, with Sybs’ polka-dot bunting stretching all the way over to the Duck & Puddle pub sign, which is swaying gently on its hinges in the warm breeze.

  ‘Hello Miss Singer.’ It’s Lily, on top of Mark’s shoulders, one hand gripping her left ankle, the other slipped around a woman’s hand.

  ‘Hi Lily, Mark,’ I nod, smiling at the woman, who smiles back as I reach up to give Lily’s hand a tweak.

  ‘Meg, this is—’ Mark starts, going to introduce me to the woman, but Lily, looking as if she’s about to burst with excitement, tells me instead.

  ‘Her name is Belle, just like the princess. And Daddy really likes her. He told me. And I saw them kissing,’ she giggles, before dipping her face down to do a squelchy kiss on the top of Mark’s bald head, and we all laugh.

  ‘Nice to meet you, Belle, I’m Meg.’ We shake hands.

  ‘I’ve heard so much about you,’ Belle says. Maybe we could meet up for a coffee some time – I’m a speech therapist.’ She beams openly.

  ‘Ooh, yes, we must. That would be lovely,’ I say, wondering if she might be up for doing some sessions with Archie Armstrong now that I’m no longer able to.

  ‘And I hear congratulations are in order,’ Belle says.

  ‘Thank you,’ I reply, feeling thrilled that it’s now official.

  I’ve officially been confirmed as the new head teacher at Tindledale Village School, which has won a reprieve. The inspectors said they were very impressed by my dedication to the school and the wider community, and also with our varied curriculum and nurturing environment. Not to mention another Outstanding Ofsted rating, and the influx of new pupils, ten from the new houses down by the station, eight transfers from St Cuthbert’s, Ash and Yasmin’s five children and Jessie’s triplets, of course. The new baby will be coming soon, too. Talking of which, Jessie’s divorce eventually came through and she now lives in a cottage in the village with Sam, blissfully happy spending time with her new family, while cultivating honey from the hives in their garden, and then writing about it for her new column in the Home Farmer magazine. Plus we have a few new families that moved here from London – Tindledale made it into the top ten in the national village show competition, which meant we were included in the Sunday supplement spread, complete with a lovely picture of the commemorative stone that now has Highly Commended inscribed on it, too. And then, shortly after that, Vicky and Gabe popped round to my cottage one evening to share the most wonderful news – they had been approved to adopt two sisters, and brought them home to Tindledale in time for Christmas – they’ve just started at my village school too.

  After saying goodbye, I walk on over to the marquee to deliver my gifts – three framed cross-stitch samplers with definitely no spelling errors on this time – one for each of the new babies. That’s why we’re all here on the village green, in fact, to celebrate the triple christenings of Florence and Henrietta (or Hettie as she’s fondly known, named after Hettie senior who owns the haberdashery shop), born to Sybs and Dr Ben. The twins arrived last month, and then Billy, who was born a fortnight ago to Cher and Sonny. Sonny is, rumour has it, planning on proposing to Cher today. I can’t wait to see that. If it’s half as romantic as Dr Ben’s proposal to Sybs in the snow at Christmas time, a year to the day after their first kiss, followed by their spring wedding a few months ago on the village green, then it’ll be truly magical.

  ‘Thanks so much, Meg,’ Sybs leans in to give me a hug after taking the presents from me. ‘Ooh, Lawrence was looking for you earlier,’ she says. ‘He said to ask if you can pop over to the village square,’ she glances at her watch, ‘um, five minutes ago.’ She laughs. ‘Quick, you’d better hurry.’

  ‘Oh, OK, thanks,’ I say, thinking it a bit odd. I wonder why he’s there and not here on the green at the party with everyone else.

  After walking from the village green to the square, I instantly see why. Lawrence is beaming as he leans against the bus stop, because standing inside the bus shelter, with a rucksack over his shoulder, and holding Taylor’s hand, is Jack.

  My heart soars.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I yell, instantly running to Jack to pull him in for a massive cuddle. ‘Oh Jack, why didn’t you tell me you were coming home for the summer? Or you, Taylor? You never said a word,’ I breathe, breaking away from Jack to grin at them both. ‘What a wonderful surprise. I’m so happy to see you. Here, let me look at you properly,’ I say, flipping open his jacket.

  ‘Muuuuuum! Stop it, I’m fine,’ he says, batting my hand away and laughing.

  ‘Are you sure? You look like you’ve lost weight,’ I say, not having seen him since Christmas – he took Taylor camping at half-term. They’re boyfriend and girlfriend now, after a bumpy start, because Jack wasn’t sure if he wanted to be in
a long-distance relationship having just started at uni, and then he confided in me that Taylor had a pregnancy scare, that’s why she was so keen to talk to him last summer, fearing that he’d ‘loved her and left her’ as it were. Anyway, they’re happily together now and it seems to be working out well for them both.

  ‘Yes Mum!’ Jack insists. ‘I’m fine. But I sure could do with one of Dan’s outstandingly good burgers,’ he grins, linking his arm through mine as we all make our way back over to the village green where Dan is doing the food for the christening party.

  After our hot-air balloon ride, Dan and I spent plenty of time together getting to know each other better. He explained that he had never come to Tindledale intending to open a new restaurant – he’d come here for some much-needed R&R. He was suffering from a severe case of restaurant burn-out, or ‘paparazzi bullshit’, as he so eloquently put it.

  ‘That’s why I felt permanently angry,’ he told me the evening after the hot-air balloon ride. We were sitting on the sofa in my cottage, sipping elderflower wine. He had his arm round my shoulders, his right ankle resting on his left knee (he is a bit of a ‘spreader’, it has to be admitted), and was stroking my hair. ‘I hated how I got caught up in the celebrity of it all, forced to be deliberately provocative.’

  ‘Like in that old YouTube interview?’ I ask him.

  ‘Yes, exactly,’ he nods quietly, ruefully. ‘Pia always wanted me to cultivate the bad-boy image because she said that’s what the public wanted. But it’s my fault, too – I was so caught up in dealing with the pressures of the restaurant that I didn’t really fight her on the PR front. I was too weak; just went along with what she said, not really thinking it through.’

  I squeeze his knee. It’s hard to imagine Dan as ‘weak’.

  He goes on. ‘Then, as my career took off, I just found it increasingly difficult to free myself from that persona. It was like playing a part, you know?’

  I nod. ‘Like me with my scary teacher act,’ I smile.

  ‘Well that one never fooled me for a moment,’ he laughs. Then he looks thoughtful again. ‘I was just a small boy who loved cooking with his granny in the country. I’d forgotten that for a while,’ he says sadly. ‘And I’d almost given up hope of finding myself again. But then I came back to Tindledale.’ He takes another sip of his wine.

  ‘I so enjoyed the anonymity, being a normal person away from the cameras, with no fuss, having a quiet, gentle life. I loved tossing my phone into the stream that time!’

  ‘I just couldn’t believe you’d done that – I had you down as a madman,’ I laugh.

  ‘I felt a bit like one … But it was a welcome relief, and then when your mum had no idea who I was, offering to help me become a paella chef, I couldn’t help myself from going along with it.’

  We laugh again, both amused at the memory. ‘God, I was mortified when she said that,’ I tell him. ‘But it seemed even worse to tell her who you really were.’

  ‘Absolutely,’ Dan had grinned. We still laugh about it now.

  One year on, everything is different. He’s calmed down a lot: the fresh, Tindledale air has done him the world of good, and he has been known on occasion to be very relaxed and smiley. Maybe that’s because he’s doing what he loves, cooking food for people to enjoy eating without worrying about what the restaurant critics write about him, or if his Michelin stars will get taken away.

  Yes, Dan sold his three-Michelin-starred restaurant, The Fatted Calf, and set himself up with a food truck. Now he travels around the villages in it, serving delicious street food alongside my home-brewed wines and cordials. Pia has gone; all the image-making and press conferences and planted stories and TV interviews are part of his old life. The life he wanted to leave behind to start afresh in Tindledale.

  Dan and I are blissfully happy, and my tiny cottage has never been so busy, with me being a part-time stepmum to Dan’s two boys. Jacob and Charlie are a handful, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. They are boisterous and noisy and perfectly wonderful; they make my tiny cottage feel just like home.

  We reach the food truck and, after hugging it out like they always do, Dan urges Jack to try his new dish, a minted lamb (locally sourced, of course) burger with a beetroot and tzatziki relish on a sourdough bun and hand-cut fries with a truffle oil drizzle.

  ‘You’ll love it,’ Dan tells Jack enthusiastically as he hands him a plate. ‘Now get stuck in.’ Jack wastes no time in doing just that. Dan gives Taylor and Lawrence a burger too, before they all wander over to the marquee, leaving us alone.

  Dan turns to me. And after wiping his hands on a tea towel, he says, ‘Come here!’ in a very bossy and filthy voice. ‘You scary teacher you,’ before pulling me in close for a kiss, pressing his lips on mine and taking my breath away, just like he always does. When I manage to surface, I gasp and lift one eyebrow.

  ‘Err, aren’t you forgetting something?’ I smile, tilting my head to one side.

  ‘Please,’ he says, fixing his thunderous eyes on to mine, and I laugh before moving in for another breathtaking kiss from the rudest man I ever had the wonderful fortune to meet.

  If you loved this Tindledale tale, make sure you read the festive first instalment in this new series from Alexandra Brown, The Great Christmas Knit Off

  Heartbroken after being jilted at the altar, Sybil has been saved from despair by her knitting obsession and now her home is filled to bursting with tea cosies, bobble hats, and jumpers. But, after discovering that she may have perpetrated the cock-up of the century at work, Sybil decides to make a hasty exit and, just weeks before Christmas, runs away to the picturesque village of Tindledale.

  There, Sybil discovers Hettie’s House of Haberdashery, an emporium dedicated to the world of knitting and needle craft. But Hettie, the outspoken octogenarian owner, is struggling and now the shop is due for closure. And when Hettie decides that Sybil’s wonderfully wacky Christmas jumpers are just the thing to add a bit of excitement to her window display, something miraculous starts to happen …

  Click here to buy now

  Haven’t discovered the fabulous series of the world of Carrington’s yet? You’re in for a real treat! Try CUPCAKES AT CARRINGTON’S, the first book in the series

  Georgie Hart loves her job – running the luxury handbag concession at Carrington’s department store in the pretty seaside town of Mulberry-on-Sea, and treating herself (once too often!) to a red velvet cupcake with buttercream icing in Carrington’s café.

  But Georgie is thrown into disarray when Carrington’s is plunged into a recession-busting makeover, cueing the arrival of femme fatale Maxine, who wields the axe in her immaculately-manicured hands. It spells a recipe for disaster for Georgie and soon she is fighting not only for her job, but also for the attentions of her gorgeous boss, James. And when hot newcomer Tom arrives, who may or may not be the best thing since sliced bread, Georgie must decide where her loyalties really lie …

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  Fancy a festive treat? Try Christmas at Carrington’s, a deliciously indulgent read and the follow up to Cupcakes at Carrington’s

  Georgie Hart loves Christmas time at Carrington’s Department store. Running the luxury handbag department, she adores helping customers in the hunt for the perfect gift for the perfect someone. And this year is no exception – now she has the hunky Tom, Mr Carrington himself, to spend the special day with.

  But when Tom springs a surprise, Georgie’s plans are thrown into chaos. Carrington’s is getting a fresh lease of life in a hot new reality TV show, featuring formidable retail guru, Kelly Cooper.

  As the first show airs, Georgie is shown in a far from flattering light. Worse is to come when Kelly’s vile daughter appears to get her claws into Tom. Georgie fears this will be the worst Christmas ever, but Santa still has a little surprise for her stocking this year – she’ll just have to wait until Christmas to find out …

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  Find out what happens to Georgie and Tom
in the final Carrington’s instalment

  Georgie Hart and Carrington’s Department Store have got the world at their feet. Since a reality TV series put them both on the map, life has been amazing! Carrington’s profits are in the pink, Georgie has carved herself a place in the nation’s heart and her romance with Tom, the store’s boss, has finally blossomed.

  Now summertime has come to Mulberry-on-Sea and Georgie is in great demand. The town is holding a big summer festival and she and her mates from Carrington’s are planning on making sure that Mulberry puts on a show!

  But Georgie is about to get the offer of a lifetime – one that is just too good to turn down and something that will test her loyalties to their limits … Will Georgie be able to pull off it off once again, or has her luck finally run out?

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