I went home feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. It was quite amazing that I felt no shyness at all around the children: talking to them, telling them about Prudence, and playing with the less poorly of the little patients, was coming more naturally to me than I ever could have believed. Cheryl had said I seemed to have a good way with them. Once again I was beginning to think I’d chosen completely the wrong career for myself. Perhaps I should have been a teacher, or even a children’s nurse?
‘You’re sounding a lot brighter,’ Dad commented when he called me that evening. ‘How are things with Ruth now?’
‘Oh, much the same.’ In fact she was now going through a phase of barely talking to me, and although this was disappointing after the nice evening we’d had out together the previous week, it was better, at least, than being shouted at. I was trying not to take it personally. I’d begun to understand that she wasn’t necessarily being hostile towards me; she was just avoiding having to talk to me too much, which might mean facing up to the issues I’d tried to raise with her.
‘So you’re not still thinking about leaving Pennycombe Bay, then?’
‘No, I’m not. Sorry, I suppose that was an overreaction, as you probably realised.’
‘You sound happy. Has something happened?’
I laughed. ‘Yes. I told you, Pru and I are visiting children in the hospital. I’m loving it. I’ve just got back from there.’
‘Is that all? From the sound of your voice, I thought perhaps you’d met a new man!’
My smile disappeared. ‘No,’ I said a little sharply. ‘Nothing like that, Dad. I don’t need a man to make me happy.’
‘Sorry, Miss Feminist Sisterhood,’ he said, ‘that’s me told!’ – and I laughed again and told him what he wanted to hear, that no doubt eventually I would find The One, and in the meantime he was the only man in my life, as always.
After I’d hung up, though, and despite my excitement about the success of my hospital visit, I found myself struggling again for a while to stop thinking about my meeting with Nick. I kept remembering the way he’d looked when he smiled at me, his sparkling blue eyes, his strong hands caressing Buddy’s head. It was annoyingly difficult to get him out of my mind or stop grinning privately to myself about the fact that he, however inappropriately, seemed to like me – as more than a friend. I needed to keep reminding myself that if I couldn’t stop my thoughts wandering into that particular no-go area, I really might have to leave Pennycombe Bay.
CHAPTER 13
The next Saturday, the first one in September, the whole town was in a state of excitement: it was the day of the Pennycombe Bay carnival. As usual, Jim had kindly given me the day off for the occasion, reassuring me that there’d be hardly any customers at the shop that day, as nearly everyone in Pennycombe Bay would be going to the carnival.
The procession would be leaving the town centre at noon, travelling down to the seafront and along the coast from West Beach to Stony Cove before heading uphill to a field at the top of the cliffs, where there was a funfair going on all day and into the evening.
‘Are you coming to watch the carnival?’ I asked Ruth as soon as she got up. I’d already taken Prudence for a long walk, washed her and was in the process of cleaning the kitchen and bathrooms.
‘No, I am not,’ she retorted grumpily. She looked at me with what I could only describe as disdain. ‘How old are you – nine? Anyone would think it was the biggest treat you get all year.’
‘Well, perhaps it is!’ I snapped back. ‘And it’s better than lying in bed for half the day and moping around in your dressing gown for the other half.’
I regretted it as soon as the words were out of my mouth, of course. It wasn’t helpful, and it only served to put her in an even worse mood with me.
‘Are you sure you won’t come?’ I tried again just as I was leaving the house. ‘We could go to the fair together afterwards. You always enjoyed it in the past.’
‘Yeah. Maybe when I had nothing better to do,’ she snarled.
I knew exactly what she’d be doing, of course. I just wished I knew where she hid the empty bottles.
Crowds were already thronging the streets as I walked down the hill and round to the main seafront. It was nearly twelve o’clock, and I knew that in the Fore Street car park in the town centre, just outside the cobbled streets of the pedestrian area of the old part of town, the carnival floats would now have been inspected by the judges. The winning floats would be wearing their first, second and third prize rosettes as they all lined up ready to move off, and the walking members of the procession would be waiting alongside them, in their costumes. There’d be excited children from the primary school and preschool, Brownies and Cub Scouts, as well as Sea Scouts, members of the local yacht club, representatives of the fire and ambulance services, and willing fundraisers from all sorts of charities who were happy to wear ridiculous outfits and hold out buckets for the coins people threw as they passed by.
With Prudence held on a tight lead by my side, I found a good vantage spot on the promenade. Everyone was in good spirits. It was a bright day, with little white clouds scudding across a blue sky, and despite the fact that Pru and I would be watching the procession on our own, I felt caught up in the camaraderie, the excitement and cheerfulness of the crowd – locals and holidaymakers alike. When I was a child, Dad used to bring me down to Pennycombe Bay every year especially for the carnival, and since I’d lived here I’d never missed one. Like a lot of things in this town, it was a traditional kind of event, now that there were so many more high-tech and thrilling things going on everywhere to entertain people. I was all too aware that children today were more interested in the latest gaming app on their phones or tablets than in the delights of a funfair; but once they tore themselves away from those gadgets and came out with their friends to cheer the procession and enjoy the dodgems or the coconut shy at the fair, I’d seen how much enjoyment they got from these simple pleasures. The carnival brought us all together; there was something for everyone. So perhaps I am old-fashioned at heart, I thought as children started to tug their parents’ arms and squeal with mounting excitement. Listen! Can you hear? The music! The band! They’re coming, they’re coming …
And then, round the corner in the distance, the leaders came into view. The Mayor, dressed in his formal regalia and looking very important with his big badge and chain, led the way, followed by the local brass band, including a quite small boy grinning happily as he crashed a huge pair of cymbals, and a very old man staggering under a tuba.
We cheered as the floats passed by, their costumed occupants waving and singing. The winning float, a pirate ship designed by the lifeboat volunteers, got a huge round of applause, as did the second prizewinner, entered by the Tiny Tots’ playgroup, featuring little kids dressed in brightly coloured overalls who, with their adult helpers, sang along to the nursery rhymes depicted by cardboard cows jumping over moons, three blind mice, and twinkling, twinkling little stars. The art group had a huge painting palette on the back of their truck and were waving broomsticks that had been turned into giant paintbrushes, and the gardening club’s float featured dozens of red, yellow and blue flowers made of crepe paper. It must have taken weeks of work to make them, and I was glad, for their sake, that it wasn’t raining.
We clapped the street dancers, we threw coins for the charity collectors: the RSPB volunteers who wore huge seagull heads, the animal rescue workers wearing dog and cat suits, and the Friends of the Hospice who had dressed up as nurses. We laughed as all the participants performed exaggerated dives for the coins that missed their buckets. I waved madly to Kevin and Dan, dressed as a knife and fork and jumping around among the teacups and cakes on their float. They both looked like they were enjoying themselves and I hoped it was a good sign that things were going better between them and perhaps Kevin wouldn’t need to take a break from their relationship.
At the end of the procession, after all the floats, came the marching troops of the various
local organisations, waving their banners proudly, some dressed in smart uniforms and others in fancy dress. Some were from outlying villages, too small to host their own events. Some inland hamlets consisted of little more than a couple of cottages, a farm and a church, but still they’d managed to cobble together a little group of folk willing to travel into town and march under a big hand-painted banner. It was nice to know people still cared enough about community events like this to make such an effort. ‘Perhaps we should have a Pets As Therapy float next year,’ a voice behind me said, as the procession finally disappeared into the distance.
‘Hello, Nick.’ I turned to face him, wondering how the hell he’d managed to find me in this crowd. ‘I don’t think so, really.’ I was making a supreme effort to control my agitation and sound like a controlled, normal person having a sensible conversation, but I was aware that my voice was coming out squeaky. ‘How would we get hold of a truck? And anyway, how many volunteers are there in Pennycombe Bay?’
Apart from Nick and myself, I only knew of Annette, who’d been visiting the ward Vera had been on.
‘Who knows?’ he said with a shrug. ‘We could easily find out if there’s anyone else in the area. But anyway, doing something like this might encourage more people to get involved. And the truck’s no problem! I can borrow one from work.’
‘Really?’ I squeaked. ‘Well, at least you’ve got a year to think about it.’
‘We. We can think about it,’ he corrected me. ‘If we’re both going to be involved, we should mention it to the events committee as soon as they reconvene after today’s event.’
‘There’s no rush, is there?’ I said, looking around me desperately for a gap in the crowd where I could elbow my way away from him. I felt that I was being railroaded, at top speed, into being involved with him in a project that I wasn’t even too sure about. ‘Anyway, sorry, Nick, but I’ve got to go …’
‘Going on to the fair? I’ll walk with you.’
‘Oh.’ I toyed, briefly, with the idea of saying I wasn’t actually going there – that I had to get home to do some urgent hoovering. He must have seen the look on my face because he added quickly:
‘Don’t worry, you won’t have to be alone with me. Buddy and Prudence will be with us.’ He looked around at the crowd, now moving as one body in the direction of the fair. ‘And just about the entire population of Pennycombe Bay, by the look of it.’
I smiled, despite myself, and after another moment of hesitation, shrugged and began to walk with him. What harm could it possibly do, after all? As he said, we’d just be two people in the crowd. And there was no way he could possibly be attracted to me today; I was wearing old jeans, a purple T-shirt and my dog-walking trainers. I hadn’t exactly come out dressed to kill. Whereas he – I stole a sideways glance and looked away again quickly – looked good. Very good. As if he’d just slung on that casual shirt and those shorts without needing to make any effort because he couldn’t help looking ruggedly handsome, no matter how hard he tried not to.
‘You OK?’ he asked, and I realised I’d sighed rather loudly.
‘Yes, er, fine. Sorry, I was miles away.’ And I was going to need to snap out of these unsettling thoughts about him, if I didn’t want to spend the entire afternoon feeling even more awkward and uncomfortable than I did already. ‘We’re just friends, OK?’ I said – and it came out so much more fiercely than I’d intended, that he looked quite startled for a moment. ‘Nothing else.’
‘All right, I get it.’ He chuckled. ‘You’re nervous Ruth might turn up at the fair.’
I hadn’t been, until he mentioned it. She’d expressed such a lack of interest in it, I was pretty sure she wouldn’t come. But now, needless to say, I knew I’d be looking for her around every corner and behind every stall and fairground ride.
‘Actually, I’ve just remembered, I have to go home,’ I said, stopping dead in the middle of the street and apologising to the person who trod on my heels. ‘I’ve got … um … a lot of stuff to do.’
‘Can’t you do it tomorrow?’ he said. ‘You surely don’t want to miss the fair!’
‘No! I mean yes, no, I don’t, I mean, I don’t mind!’ I stammered, losing what little composure I’d had. ‘It doesn’t matter, there are other things, more important things, I need to do, so—’
‘Ruth probably won’t come, if that’s what you’re really worried about.’ He was sounding slightly impatient now. ‘Come on, it’ll be fun. I was looking forward to sharing a dodgem car with you,’ he added with a grin. That grin had done it. My knees had turned wobbly and, of course, my face flared with heat. I couldn’t deal with this. I still wasn’t sure if he really fancied me or if he was just taking the rise.
‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘But I really do have to go home. Come on, Pru.’
She gave a yelp of protest as I tugged at her lead, taking her away from Buddy, and started to walk back the way we’d come. I was enjoying myself! You always have to spoil things!
I stopped, once again causing people in the crowd to bump into me. It was true, I realised. I wasn’t just spoiling things for Prudence – I was spoiling my own day, too. The carnival fair was one of the highlights of the Pennycombe Bay year. Was I really going to miss it just because of this man and my fear of being seen with him? Or – more to the point, and perhaps more honestly – because I was so unsettled by him: his smile, the creases at the corners of his mouth and the way his eyes lingered on me? Well, OK – Prudence and I would go on our own, just as I’d planned, and if I bumped into him again there, I’d just have to find a way to ignore him. Feeling better, and pleased with myself for my sensible decision, I turned back again to join the flow of the crowd. Nick had already disappeared, but I purposely didn’t hurry. Prudence tried to tug at her lead, obviously more anxious to find Buddy again than I was to catch up with Nick, but the throng heading for the fair was too dense. We made slow progress, and when we finally reached the field where the fair was being held, there were already queues for the rides, and crowds around most of the stalls.
I didn’t mind. I wouldn’t have been bothered about going on the fairground rides, even if I hadn’t had Pru with me. It was enough for me to stroll around the stalls, enjoying the sunshine and the happy atmosphere. I bumped into Edie, Vera’s carer, and as she was on her own we walked around the stalls together, chatting about the procession. At the candy floss stall I spotted Kevin and Dan, released from their carnival float, laughing together as they bought a candy floss each. I introduced them to Edie, pleased to see they looked happy in each other’s company. We all went on together to the tombola stall, where I found Cheryl from Seashell Ward, enjoying her day off with a friend. She greeted me warmly and we commiserated with each other when none of us won a prize. Edie and I went to queue for an ice cream, met a couple of the regular customers from the shop and enjoyed a quick chat with them about the lovely weather and how good the carnival had been this year.
We went on to have a turn at the hoopla and darts stalls, and then found Kevin and Dan again at the coconut shy, and we all joined in for a go at the wheel of fortune. I’d bought a thriller from the second-hand book stall for myself, a cake from the cake stall for Vera and, from the sweet stall, a tin of toffees for Jim. On an impulse, I turned back and added a large bar of Ruth’s favourite chocolate.
‘Right, I’ve finished my shopping!’ I said. ‘I suppose I’d better think about heading home.’
‘But it’s such a nice evening,’ Edie protested. ‘Just the sort of evening that cries out for a drink in the pub garden, don’t you think?’
‘Sounds good to me,’ Dan laughed. ‘What d’you say, Kev?’
Kevin smiled. ‘Yes, let’s go for it.’
We didn’t stay long at the pub; I was aware that Prudence was going to want her dinner soon. But it was a happy little interlude. It was good to see Kevin and Dan chatting and laughing together, and I got on well with Edie. A local girl in her twenties, she was good company but said she didn’t get a
lot of chance to relax like this, as her job involved such long hours.
‘I’m so glad we decided to come back to the fair,’ I said to Prudence as we set off for home. ‘It’s been such a lovely afternoon and evening.’ I hadn’t seen Nick again, and I was beginning to wonder if he’d gone straight home after all.
I’d have had more fun if we’d been with Buddy and his man.
‘Well, I’m sorry. Maybe another time.’
Yet again, I found myself thinking about that flirtatious smile he’d given me, how handsome he’d looked, but how awkward and uncomfortable he’d made me feel. Would there be another time? And did I even want there to be one? I just wished he didn’t always make me feel so confused.
CHAPTER 14
The early September weather continued warm, almost sultry, as if summer was in no hurry to be over. Even as the evenings darkened, we had no need of the central heating or heavier clothes. But Ruth’s behaviour was as unpredictable as ever. Sometimes her mood seemed as calm and pleasant as the weather, only for her to suddenly erupt crossly over something trivial, leaving me feeling shaky and confused. To be honest, I just kept doing as much as possible to stay out of her way. Prudence and I went for lots of long walks during the lovely balmy evenings, and at least once a week I went to visit Vera. My visits often coincided with Edie’s calls. Since the carnival day fair, and our drinks in the pub garden, we’d become quite chatty and friendly, and one evening as she was leaving she suggested we might go for another drink together.
‘Vera’s my last call,’ she explained. ‘And I feel all hot and bothered after working all day, so a cold beer would really go down a treat, if you’re up for it?’
We walked round to the pub together, and sat outside with our drinks in the beer garden again. Edie was a bright, bubbly girl but I could tell she had a no-nonsense attitude when it was necessary – which I suspected it often was, when Vera decided she didn’t want to cooperate, for instance!
The Pet Shop at Pennycombe Bay Page 11