The Vital Spark

by Carson, Angela

  `Go ahead, we'll see to the float,' said Haydn, and Lee's lips tightened. He spoke as if he was giving Jon permission.

  `I don't know whether I'll be able to manage this morning.' She was completely free, but she saw no reason why she should fall in with Haydn's plans.

  `When you're ready will do,' Haydn shrugged. 'It's your float,' he reminded her drily, and Lee paused. 'If it isn't ready to put the daisies on as soon as they arrive, they'll be wasted,' he pressed his advantage, and once again his argument was unanswerable.

  `If Jon will take the morning load into Tarmouth....' She gave in, as Haydn knew she would have to, and the submission galled her. It did not help her mood when she stood with him and surveyed the trailer after Jon and Ben had departed, and found she had no idea how to start on the job of turning the small-wheeled vehicle into a miniature railway carriage. There would have to be sides, and a roof. They would need wood.

  `We'll have to wait and see what Jon brings back from the boatyard.' That would delay the proceedings for an hour or two, and maybe she could co-opt Ben's help, and it would release her from having to help Haydn. Maybe she and Ben could do it between them after all. The thought appealed to her. It would show Haydn once and for all that they were capable of standing on their own feet, without his interference.

  `There's no need for that, I brought some stuff back with us yesterday, for the purpose.'

  `I don't....' He stopped her protest with a look.

  `If you're thinking of expense, forget it,' he said curtly. `What I brought is a sort of glorified Meccano set, which we use for all display work. It can be put together and used, then dismantled and returned to the stores when it's finished with, so you won't owe us a penny.'

  `I didn't see you bring it.'

  `You were too sleepy when we got back last night to notice anything.' He slanted a look at her. 'Are you going

  to help hold things for me while I bolt them together, or not?'

  If she said no, in his present mood he would probably leave her to it, she thought, and there would be no flower train, and no display at the festival. And no advertisement for Polrewin. She nodded, wordlessly.

  `Then hold these, for a start.'

  She took the bag of nuts and bolts and washers he thrust at her, then watched as he built a square outline of uprights and crosspieces on the four-wheeled wagon. It was already fitted with low sides, just enough to prevent boxes of produce from slipping off, so he had no need to fix the structure down to the base, and in spite of herself her interest grew as she watched the shape materialise.

  `You've forgotten the window.' The words came out of their own accord. He must not forget the window....

  `So I have.' He stepped back, and flashed her a glance in which laughter lurked. Once again, he knew he had won. Lee had been the first to break the silence. In spite of herself, her lips curved upwards in response, it was as if they worked of their own accord, but she felt better after that. She decided where the window should be, and how big, and helped Haydn set it into the structure. She altered it twice before she was finally satisfied, but he bore with her patiently, and at last she stepped back with a sigh of satisfaction.

  `We'll make the back of the coach into a daisy, and sit you in the middle.' He looked pleased with their efforts so far. `You can be the guard, if you like,' he grinned, 'it'll be drier for you if you sit outside. The inside of your coach is going to be pretty damp.'

  `How will you fix the daisies?' To cover such a large area would take a lot of flowers, and Lee felt doubtful of their stability on a moving vehicle.

  `Easily enough.' Haydn was not in the least disconcerted. He never was, thought Lee with asperity. He always felt sure of what he was doing. 'Come and help me to carry the material over, I've put it in the end greenhouse.' She went with him, curiosity overcoming her rebellion at his manner, and found herself gazing at a stack of what looked like

  thick sponge cake, cut into large squares.

  `It's similar to the material florists use. If we fix it to the slats and put a wire background against it, it can't move, and it'll hold enough water to keep the flowers fresh for as long as they'd last in an ordinary vase.'

  She helped him to carry it, found to her surprise that it was extraordinarily light in weight, and watching Haydn work she copied him, and soon became as dexterous as he was at fixing it against the wire.

  `You'd make a good florist,' he encouraged her efforts.

  `It's something I've always wanted to study, and never found the time.' She stood back and looked at their efforts so far. 'What about the daisy at the back? The one I'm supposed to be the centre of ?' The sides of the coach would be easy, but the curved shape of the petals would not be. Once again Haydn had the answer.

  `We'll keep the backing straight. Let's see, there's eight letters in Polrewin.' He counted again to make sure. 'If we outline nine petals with the daisies, we can put one letter of the name between each petal. And you as the centre,' he concluded. 'Stand up on the back of the float for a minute, and let me see how high the daisy has got to be to arc over your head.' He lifted her over the side impersonally, as if she was just another piece of the material he was working with, then made various marks on the structure with a piece of chalk, and a frown of concentration on his face. `You can come down now.' He lifted her back beside him on to the gravel, and she said,

  `If you're going to wet the backing the daisies are on, I shan't want to sit under an arch of the stuff. It'll drip all over me.'

  `After the way you behaved yesterday, am I supposed to care?'

  `After the way I behaved?' He said nothing about the way he had behaved himself, she thought furiously. Presumably that was different. 'What am I supposed to do?' she flung at him sarcastically, 'stand by in silence and watch you run Polrewin hopelessly into debt? Anyway,' she shrugged away the thought of yesterday, 'I refuse to be dripped on just to please you. If you want me to be the

  middle of the daisy....'

  `Who said I want you to be the middle of anything?' he interrupted her grittily. 'I didn't....' He turned abruptly as tyres crunched on gravel. 'Here's Jon. I'll go and help him unload his wood.' He swung on his heel abruptly and strode away from her as if he had run out of patience, and Lee leaned miserably against the side of the trailer. He did not want her—he had made that perfectly clear. And it should not have mattered to her, but it did. Haydn did not want her—but she wanted him. Acknowledging it should have stilled the storm inside her, but it did not do that either. What she wanted for herself, and what she wanted for Polrewin, seemed to be at opposite ends of the tug of war, and she was in the middle, being pulled in two directions at once.

  `Vince wants you to go down and get your instructions for the procession,' Jon called across to her, and Lee left her leaning post reluctantly and walked over to join him. Haydn did not look at her, he kept on talking to Ben as if she was not there, and she bit her lip. If he wanted to quarrel, let him, she thought rebelliously.

  `I'll give Vince a ring, it's probably only to let us know what time to assemble in the market place.'

  `It's more than that,' said Jon, 'the whole thing's being organised up to the hilt, from what I've heard, because of traffic congestion in the town. There's different starting times for each float, the speed you've got to keep to, and the exact route, because the Committee's hoping the festival will attract such a crowd there's an even chance the floats will lose sight of one another in the crush.'

  `Oh well,' Lee shrugged, `I've got to see to the flowers for the ballroom at the Royal. Anchor, so I can do the two at once, and get it over with.' Her pleasure in the coming festival was dimmed anyway, and instead of looking forward to joining in the arrangements, they represented nothing more than an unwelcome chore now.

  `As I'm driving the float, I think I'd better come and see Vince as well.' Haydn finished his leisurely chat with Ben, and took part in the conversation.

  `I'm quite capable of remembering a few simple direc-

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bsp; tions,' Lee told him coldly.

  `You won't need to remember anything, except the colour you're given,' Jon told her. 'There'll be coloured route indicators, and you'll just have to follow the arrows, or something,' he said vaguely.

  `That should be easier still,' Lee hailed the suggestion with relief. Surely even Haydn must acknowledge that she was capable of remembering a colour.

  `If it's a colour you've got to follow, I'll need to come more than ever.' Unexpectedly he dashed her hopes. 'You don't seem able to differentiate between one shade and the next,' he told her seriously.

  `What on earth are you talking about?' Lee felt flabbergasted. 'Of course I can tell one shade from another. How do you think I got on in the domestic science field?' Words failed her, and she lapsed into exasperated silence.

  `Search me,' he shrugged. 'But you've been calling that liver-and-white spaniel Jet ever since I've been here....'

  `That's short for Jetsam, it's got nothing whatever to do with his colour,' Lee snapped. 'We called him Jetsam because he swam ashore from a wrecked boat.'

  `That's a relief,' Haydn grinned suddenly. 'I must confess I've been a bit worried now and then, sitting in the Mini with you driving, in case you couldn't tell which traffic light was which.'

  `It didn't stop you from coming with me,' Lee shot back. He had used her morning delivery trip into Tarmouth as a free bus service ever since he had come to stay with them. And when she returned from collecting a pen and notepad from the house in case she had to write down any directions, he was already ensconced in the passenger seat of the Mini, waiting for her. Short of physical force, there was no way in which she could remove him. She accepted the inevitable with a resigned shrug, and could not help feeling some satisfaction that Vince pointedly talked to her and not to Haydn when she ran him to earth at the Royal Anchor just before lunchtime.

  `I've allocated you the pink marker.' He leaned back in his armchair behind his big, leather-topped desk, and Lee knew a moment of sharp distaste. The contrast between

  Vince's office and Haydn's studio was striking. She preferred Haydn's studio. Vince's room had an air of opulent stuffiness that belonged to its owner, and reminded her curiously of Dennis. She preferred uncluttered freedom, and good china....

  `Pink doesn't suit her.'

  He said it mildly. So quiet were his words that they did not register with Vince for a second or two, and he went on speaking. Then he stopped, and his face flushed an angry red.

  `What did you say?' His voice rose with his colour. He would be fat when he was a few years older, and probably suffer from high blood pressure, Lee thought with detached interest. He showed signs of both now. His face took on a sunset hue, and he glared at Haydn with undisguised dislike.

  said pink doesn't suit her. Yellow does. The acidy sort of shade,' Haydn said helpfully, and he darted a glance at Lee that suggested her temperament might be tinted with the same tartness. Her lips thinned, and she gripped the arms of her chair, determined not to be tempted into retaliation in front of Vince.

  `Of course, if that's the best you can manage, I'm sure it will do,' Haydn went on politely. He held the coloured card of route directions between the tip of his finger and thumb, and eyed it critically. 'It's just a little crude, that's all.'

  `Fluorescent colours are meant to show up.' Vince's face was rapidly turning purple, and Lee intervened hastily.

  `It'll do beautifully, so long as we've got a colour to follow it doesn't matter what it is. Let's go and see the ballroom, Vince, then I'll know what to do about the flowers.' She held out her hand to him appealingly, and instantly mollified, he jumped to his feet and took it. Just as instantly Lee regretted her gesture. Her fingers were uncomfortably encased in plump, hot dampness, and she swallowed her aversion with difficulty.

  `I must take my pad and pencil with me.' She chose the only escape route open to her, and ostentatiously kept her pad in one hand and her pencil in the other.

  `There's the bandstand.' She made a note. She did not

  need to, she already knew what she was going to put there. She felt Haydn's eyes on her. Briefly she looked up, and then looked hurriedly away again before the dancing mischief in the tawny orbs should spark off the bubbling laughter inside her that demanded an outlet. She crushed it firmly, and concentrated on the bandstand.

  `That's the only place that needs decorating, surely,'

  Haydn put in. imagine you'll have quite a crowd at the

  ball, and you won't want flowers in the way of the dancers.'

  `There's the buffet room to do, on the side,' Vince said quickly, and turning his back on Haydn he spoke to Lee. `We've got the leading citizens of three of the main towns along the coast coming.' He sounds pompous, Lee thought, and felt glad she had refused his invitation to partner him.

  `You won't have much time for dancing yourself,' Haydn murmured sympathetically.

  `I intend to take some time off during the evening,' Vince snapped. 'Don't forget you promised me some dances,' he reminded Lee. She pretended not to hear him, and snapped her book shut as if she had all the notes she needed.

  `Did you?' Haydn asked casually, on their way back to Polrewin.

  `Did I what?' Lee waited impatiently for the traffic lights to change. By the time she had managed to smooth Vince down, and then waited while Haydn went to the boatyard for some purpose which he did not divulge, they were later than she intended to be.

  `Promise Vince some dances.'

  `He asked me to partner him, and I refused.' Exasperation got the better of her, and she spoke the truth without a thought for the consequences.

  `Just as well.' Haydn settled back into his seat with a satisfied look. 'It'll save you from having to break a promise.'

  `Why should I break a promise to Vince?' Lee drew to a halt on the gravel outside the house, and fended off a vociferous welcome from the two dogs.

  `Because you're partnering me,' Haydn told her blandly.

  `I didn't say....' She staggered under the onslaught of eight legs and two wildly wagging tails. 'Get down, both of you!'

  `There's no time to argue,' Haydn told her crisply as she disentangled herself and swung round to face him, ready to do battle. 'The daisies have arrived, and if you want the float to be ready in time ... There's the ballroom to do, as well,' he reminded her unnecessarily. 'As well as the buffet room.'

  `We'll do the float first.' That, at least, Lee was determined to have her own way about. The argument 'about who should partner her at the festival must wait until later. Her mood softened, as it always did when she was handling flowers, and as soon as she opened the first of the stack of boxes piled against the trailer she forgot Vince, and almost forgot her antagonism towards Haydn.

  `They're lovely.' It seemed a shame to shorten their stalks, the white petals, still in half open bud, looked like a newborn baby's fist, softly crumpled, but soon to open into full loveliness under the warm sun.

  `We'll have to wet the backing first. Have you got a spray, or a hosepipe?'

  `Use the hose with this gadget on the end.' She reached on to the top of a box just inside the door of the greenhouse, and fitted the sprayer dexterously on to the end of the hose. 'Will it do?'

  `Famously.' Haydn ran the pipe straight. 'Turn on the tap and let's get to work.' He soaked the backing thoroughly on both sides, and the sponge-like texture of the material swelled with the water, fitting tightly to the spars that held it. 'Now for the daisies.'

  She clipped and held them up to him as he worked from the top of a pair of high steps, and the time seemed to fly. Soon the top of the coach was covered in a deep layer of overlapping petals.

  `We can work together now I've done the high bit.'

  The daisies seemed to have a mellowing effect on Haydn, as well. We've both lowered our prickles, Lee thought with sudden amusement, and her smile must have shown because Haydn glanced down at her, and smiled back.

  `I can't get this corner right, the strut's in the way.'

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sp; `Let me do it, my fingers are stronger than yours.' And he bent the strut back, moving it easily where she had

  struggled with no results, and filled the corner for her with daisy buds.

  `I'll put the top ones in while you finish the corner.' She mounted the first two steps to complete the top of the window, which Haydn had left to do her corner.

  `Mind, the steps aren't too steady.'

  `They're safe enough for now.'

  She felt them tip the moment she stood on the second step. She should have remembered he had slid them out of his way with the toe of his shoe when he finished the top of the coach, and they had not been properly set for climbing again. They gave a creak, and an ominous lurch, and the dogs scuttled from beneath them with undignified haste as Haydn called out urgently,

  `Never mind the steps, let them fall. I'll catch you.'

  He was even quicker than Bandy and Jet. He dropped his daisies and clippers, reached round and grasped her just as the steps disappeared from under her feet and landed on the gravel with a crash.

  `What does it take to make you listen to common sense?' His friendliness vanished in a rush, and he gave her a shake. 'That might easily have been you instead of the ladder, sprawled on the gravel!' he shouted at her angrily.

  `Why should you care?' she shouted back, shaken by her narrow escape.

  `I don't,' he flung back at her angrily, 'but I'd have to find someone else to take your place on the float, and that would take time I haven't got. The procession takes place tomorrow,' he reminded her forcefully.

  `You needn't drive, if you don't want to.'

  `I promised Jon I'd take over for him, he's got to wait for the fresh supply of fuel to be unloaded, and then he's bringing Nell and Ben along, otherwise....' He paused as footsteps sounded on the gravel.

  `I say, that's great !' Jon rounded the corner and stood back to admire their handiwork. 'You'll have to take that photograph you promised your mother before you start off, there won't be much opportunity when you're actually in the procession,' he reminded Haydn. 'I don't know enough about cameras to make a decent job of it for you.'