Jack had been surprised but pleased to receive a text from Sam inviting him to the summer fete at Willow Tree Hall.
Although Jack felt guilty about all the stress he had caused everyone, Sam had insisted that he should come along and that he was still a friend.
‘Anyway, we’ve pretty much forgotten about all that gossip,’ Sam had told him.
Out of work and with time on his hands, Jack had done nothing but worry ever since he quit his job.
Jack felt equally ashamed that Sam still considered him a friend when they hadn’t seen each other for so many years since school and considering the trouble he had brought to their door. But then again, what did he know about having friends? He didn’t need them and he certainly didn’t want any.
But the guilt of having laid so much trouble at the doorstep of the Harris family made him accept the offer.
Besides, it had been years since he had last been to the summer fete at Willow Tree Hall. His younger, cynical self had scoffed at what he remembered to be a twee setting and lame carnival-type atmosphere. But standing in the late afternoon sun near the main front door, he had to admit that he had been completely wrong in his expectations and memories.
With Willow Tree Hall as a magnificent backdrop, the fete was spread out across the huge front lawn. The ground was parched and the long, yellowing leaves of the willow tree swayed in a soft breeze with – thankfully – a clear blue sky above.
All around the tree had been placed a vast number of tables, all decked with brightly coloured tablecloths and bunting. The tops of the tables were groaning with homemade goodies. Jack could see jam, cakes, biscuits, toys, drinks, candles and hand lotions all jostling for space.
As well as being full of colour and homemade goods, the place was also packed with families walking around, chatting or lounging on picnic rugs. Many children were holding balloons and had their faces painted.
Laughter filled the air and Jack nodded to himself, pleased that Sam and Annie had done such a good job reviving the traditional village fete.
‘Hello!’ said Sam, as he headed across the driveway, holding what appeared to be many packets of burger buns. ‘You made it!’
‘Hi,’ said Jack. ‘It looks like a good turnout.’
‘I think we’ve even more people than last year,’ Sam told him as they began to walk across the gravel towards the many stalls. ‘Especially if the amount of barbeque food we’ve already sold is any indication.’
They carried on across the grass, which was still short and stubby thanks to the lack of recent rain.
‘Of course,’ continued Sam, ‘our popularity could be down to the catering staff I’ve employed.’
As they neared the long queue in front of the barbeque stall, Jack suddenly understood what Sam was getting at. Cooking sausages for the masses was none other than Tommy King, the multi-award-winning famous singer.
‘Here’s the last of the sausage buns,’ said Sam, placing them on a nearby table. ‘Tom! I want to introduce you to my old school friend, Jack. Jack, this is Tommy King, but just plain old Tom the sausage griller to you and me.’
‘Hi,’ said Tom, reaching out to shake a charcoal-covered hand with Jack.
‘Nice to meet you,’ said Jack.
‘Has anybody got me a beer yet?’ asked Tom. ‘This cooking lark is thirsty work.’
‘Here!’ said Will, suddenly appearing with an armful of ice-cold beers. ‘Stop your whingeing.’
‘Thanks,’ said Tom, taking a bottle and having a quick glug before concentrating on his grill once more.
‘Hey,’ said Will to Jack. ‘Glad you made it. Beer for you, too, if you’re not driving.’
Jack had a sudden flashback to Will crying in the corridor at school when they were much younger. Sam and Will’s parents had been killed in a car accident, the class had been told. Jack remembered that it had involved a drink driver.
‘I am driving,’ said Jack. ‘Unfortunately for me, as an ice-cold beer sounds great in this heat.’
‘Well, you can either grab a taxi or stay over, if you like,’ said Sam, with a shrug. ‘There’s plenty of room in the big house. Go on, enjoy a beer with us and stay for the music later.’
‘Are you singing?’ Jack asked Tom.
‘Free catering and now a free gig,’ said Tom, with a grin. ‘They’re getting their money’s worth out of me today.’
‘The local hospital will be very grateful for the funds raised today, so stop your moaning,’ said Will, smiling. ‘Some people let fame go completely to their heads. You’re such a diva.’
‘Who’s a diva?’ said a short man, coming to stand next to them.
Expecting an overly zealous friendly local, Jack was amazed to realise that it was another classmate from school.
‘You are, Alex,’ said Sam, before continuing to split open all the burger buns.
‘Too right,’ said Alex, glancing over at Jack before doing a double take. ‘Good God!’
‘No, just plain old me,’ drawled Jack, with a smile.
‘Jack Carter,’ said Alex, striding over to stand in front of him. ‘I don’t believe it. How are you?’
‘Good, thanks,’ Jack told him, shaking his hand.
‘The years have been kind to you,’ said Alex, running an appreciative eye over Jack. ‘Botox?’
Jack shook his head, laughing. ‘No way!’
Alex shrugged his shoulders. ‘Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it. I suppose you’ve heard that I’m ever so famous these days?’
Nearby, Will snorted a laugh. ‘For what?’
Alex rolled his eyes. ‘As an interior designer, of course! Look what I’ve done to this place! It’s fabulous!’ His face suddenly dropped.
Jack was horrified to see Alex’s eyes suddenly fill with tears. ‘Are you OK?’ he said, reaching out to hold Alex’s arm.
‘Not this again,’ said Sam, noting Alex’s sad expression with a grimace. ‘We’ll be alright.’
‘Of course we will,’ said Alex, with a nod and a shake of his head. ‘I’m not crying. It’s hay fever. Right, Jack, let’s go and get a proper drink. Somebody here’s made homemade gin. God, I love the countryside.’
‘I was going to drive home,’ said Jack.
‘We’ve offered you a room for the night,’ called out Sam.
‘Perfect!’ said Alex, taking his arm. ‘You must stay. It’s been too many years since we had a proper catch-up. What is it, ten years since we left school?’
‘I think you’ve left a couple of years out from your calculations,’ said Will, raising an eyebrow.
‘Age is but a number,’ Alex snapped back before looking at Jack. ‘Come on, what do you say? Stay the night and have a few drinks with the rest of us.’
Jack was surprised to find himself tempted by the offer.
Unfortunately, before he could even make up his mind, everyone had accepted his silence as confirmation.
‘Excellent!’ said Sam, looking pleased. ‘I’ll let Annie know you’re staying over.’
‘Better let your strict housekeeper know as well,’ called out Alex over his shoulder, as they began to walk away from the barbeque.
That brought Jack up short. He had temporarily forgotten that Lily was working there. But perhaps as it was the weekend she would be at home. Or even at the fete…
He began to scour the crowds for a flash of dark red hair, but he couldn’t see her anywhere.
Whilst they walked, Alex kept up his chatty monologue. ‘So, what have you been up to all these years? I must say, those designer jeans look better on you than they did on me when I tried them on last month. If only I had your height. Ah well. What I lack in height, I more than make up for in talent.’
Jack smiled to himself. Alex had barely changed from the motor-mouth personality that he had been at school.
Once they were out of earshot of Sam and Will, Alex’s expression darkened again. ‘So, tell me,’ he whispered, grabbing Jack’s arm to stop them walking. ‘Is it true? Will my beloved Willow Tree Hall be gone by this time next year?’
‘I really hope not,’ Jack told him.
Alex made a face. ‘That doesn’t sound very convincing.’
‘I know,’ said Jack. ‘I just don’t trust Eric Thatcher to do the right thing.’
Alex sighed heavily. ‘That’s fair enough. Nobody blames you, you know. But, God, this whole thing is making me feel wretched. At least you gave us all a bit of warning. Right. I need that gin more than ever.’
As they walked towards a nearby stall, Jack was beginning to realise that it wasn’t just the Harris family that was going to be affected. It was the wider circle of friends and family.
Alex had said that nobody blamed him. Was that true? Had he helped by giving them fair warning on Eric’s plans?
At that moment, he felt nothing but guilt and no amount of ice-cold beer would help with that.