Holly sat back on the straw bales that had been thoughtfully arranged in little clusters around wrought-iron braziers throwing out heat and light across the darkening festival site, taking in as many little details as she possibly could, while wrangling four excitable children, each anticipating the warm cinnamon buns and hot chocolates that Taffy was now queuing for. For the last half an hour, at least, both Ben and Tom had been completely enthralled by the presence of their very favourite author, not to mention her willingness to read scenes from her books in a variety of captivating voices, and Holly had been able to relax for a while and savour the atmosphere.
She wasn’t sure quite how Connor had managed it, although the whirlwind of energy that was Lizzie Parsons may have had a large part to play, but this truly was a very special festival. Somehow, possibly by accident, he had struck a balance between old and young, between locals and visitors, and what’s more, the weather had happily complied, cold and crisp, yet dry, showcasing Larkford at her wintery finest. Even the stars had aligned so that Saturn was visible in the sky to look down on their very own attempt at Saturnalia. In the final rush towards the finish line, it was as though everything had simply fallen into place – not without effort of course – but certainly without hitting hurdles at every stride as before. Almost as though it were meant to be.
Food. Music. Friends.
It was a winning combination.
She looked up at the sound of her name and saw Jamie and Alice walking towards her, holding hands, Alice cradling the epically hideous trophy from The Practice’s Game-Off – who knew she was such a demon at Monopoly? ‘If you fancy a hot chocolate or some mulled wine, speak now or for ever hold your peace,’ said Holly. ‘Taffy’s nearly at the front of the queue and he’s been there for like a year.’
Jamie bounded across to place their order with Taffy and Alice sat down on the straw bales beside the boys, Coco tumbling instantly over their legs in a bid to lick them all in greeting. ‘I can’t quite believe all this,’ she said, glancing around at the little packs of festival-goers with their Courchevel-meets-Coachella vibe, slick gloss Hunter boots, and youthful enthusiasm, countered in the glamour-stakes perhaps by Pru Hartley and the rest of the Larkford WI in their quilted Puffa jackets and sensible shoes. ‘It shouldn’t work; but somehow, it just does, right?’
Holly nodded. ‘He’s a clever old bean, our Connor.’
Alice beamed. ‘He really is our Connor now, isn’t he? I mean, you can’t doubt his commitment to the place after this, can you? Did he tell you about this Larkford Fund he’s setting up and that the Assistance Animals is one of his seed charities?’ Alice breathed out happily. ‘I can’t believe how things have turned around for me in the last week or so.’
‘And of course that has nothing to do with your Jamie handing in his notice and hightailing it home from Donegal for good?’ checked Holly teasingly. ‘No correlation there at all?’
Alice simply smiled; the kind of secretive smile in fact that made Holly wonder if there was more to Jamie’s gallant, white-knight re-entry to Larkford life than she was privy to. ‘I know we shouldn’t talk shop today, but your partnership contracts are all ready and waiting for you to sign on the dotted line,’ Holly said, wondering if the promotion in rank could be behind Alice’s serene happiness.
‘Perfect,’ said Alice easily. ‘I’ll get that all sorted on Monday.’ She quietly guided Coco away from the family sitting beside them, who seemed a little bemused by the doeeyed spaniel in her assistance jacket. ‘Oh, and remind me to talk to you later, when all this calms down?’ Alice said with an enigmatic smile.
‘Who wants food?’ said Jamie boisterously, as he and Taffy approached, laden with warm drinks and cinnamon-scented boxes of steaming pastries; hunter-gatherers of the Cotswold style.
‘Me! Me! Me!’ clamoured the children. Well, and Holly. And for a few short moments there was a happy lull in conversation, filled by munching and giggling and general enjoyment. Holly watched Alice over the top of her mulled wine, seeing how her eyes danced with every word from Jamie’s lips, trying not to second-guess what she might have to say.
She glanced over at Taffy, his face illuminated by the flickering brazier, wondering when that first flush of love matured into something deeper and more meaningful, only for him to catch her gaze and deliberately pull a silly face, giving Olivia and Lottie a severe case of giggle-itis.
The music had been going on all afternoon, but from Holly’s point of view, the joy of the festival had been the food and the chance to see so many local people enjoying themselves. She was hardly a connoisseur of popular music at the best of times, but she knew what she liked, and appreciated that the bands had been chosen for maximum appeal.
Watching Hannah Porter dancing with her friends in the deepening twilight, plaits twirling as they spun around to the music, was possibly the best gift of all. Yes, she was still too thin, and they had a hundred and one hurdles to jump in getting her truly well, but still – she was here, with friends and enjoying the moment – and that felt like a significant victory to Holly.
‘Hey, shh! Shh! You guys, they’re going to announce the winner of the Yurt competition,’ Taffy said, as everyone around them turned to face the main stage where Connor was holding the microphone as the music fell silent.
‘Well, I hope you’re all enjoying the festivities and each other’s company, maybe getting a little taste of this life that I love?’ Whooping cheers from the crowd brought a smile to his face. ‘Now there’s a very special award that I need to present this evening. And thanks to Bath Rugby’s sponsorship of our very own Young Carers’ Charity – and to the formidable Matthew Giles and his determination to get things up and running – I have in my hand an award to celebrate the very best of local talent. Every act in the Young Carers’ Yurt today has been watched and enjoyed by my Music Management Team – although obviously we didn’t tell them that!’ He laughed, knowing how terrifying the prospect of performing would then have been. ‘And it is my honour, and my privilege to announce the winner.’
He reached into his back pocket for an envelope – not a gold shiny one like at the Oscars, but a Mr Men one, courtesy of Ben and Tom’s stationery set, sourced at the last minute. The front few rows of the crowd laughed, Molly Giles among them, her proud face beaming at what her wonderful son had achieved. ‘Oh yes,’ Connor said, in response to a little heckling, ‘I am all about the glamour and the branding these days. And,’ he began, ripping open the envelope, ‘I’m delighted to announce that the winner is . . .’
Just as he paused for a drumroll from his bandmate, Orlando, there was a scuffle and kerfuffle in the wings of the stage, Nineteen and Nigel possessively barging their way over to find their master. Flanking him, centre stage, making a bid for stardom, Nigel reached out with his lips to snaffle the results from Connor’s hand, happily chewing them to a pulp, as Nineteen grunted excitedly, and stood directly on the loop pedal set up for the next act.
Holly laughed so hard that her mulled wine went up her nose and made her eyes stream. Only in Larkford, she thought.
It took quite a while for Connor to stop laughing and rescue the results from a reluctant Nigel, and it was a dead cert which images would be splashed all over the tabloids the next day. But looking at the elation and hilarity on his face, Holly was fairly confident he wouldn’t care less.
From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Cassie Holland, sitting on another cluster of bales, with her brother Alec on one side, and Tarquin on the other. And wonder of wonders, they were all eating candyfloss. Cassie may be a pain in the proverbial, but she was also human, just like the rest of them, with baggage and neuroses, and Holly made a little pact with herself, there and then, to take the rough with the smooth, through Cassie’s chemo and the challenges that lay ahead.
‘Right!’ said Connor, finally composing himself, as a blushing Kitty escorted Nigel and Nineteen from the stage.
‘You had one job!’ heckled her colleague Rupert from the crowd, much to the locals’ amusement and Kitty’s increasing embarrassment.
‘And the winner – for most promising local artist – in a country-and-western style, I believe – Ms Cassie Holland!’ Connor blinked at the slightly masticated paper in his hand, as though he himself couldn’t quite believe it, before his professionalism reasserted itself and he led the applause with aplomb.
Cassie, pink of cheek, and looking uncharacteristically nervous, made her way up on stage and shook his hand. ‘Thank you,’ she said, her words echoing around the valley from his mic. ‘This award is all the more special, actually, because without my lovely brother, I would never have dared take part. Thank you, Alec,’ she said and swiftly left the stage, disappearing into the wings, leaving all the local parents mouthing at each other in disbelief. There was, after all, only one Alec in Larkford.
‘Dear God,’ said Taffy, to whom this wasn’t news, ‘she’s going to be just unbearable now . . .’
‘Ah, but did you hear her sing?’ Jamie countered. ‘Voice of an angel.’
Alice nodded her agreement and Holly leaned forward. ‘You were going to tell me something, just now?’
‘Oh yes,’ Alice said, turning to face her excitedly. ‘Well, it’s not just my news to share, but Jamie and I—’
Holly held her breath, glancing automatically down at Alice’s washboard stomach. ‘Yes? Don’t leave me hanging.’
Alice blushed. ‘Well, we wanted you to be the first to know, that we’ve got Banana’s certification through. In record time. We can’t quite believe it ourselves. Isn’t it wonderful?’
Holly almost felt the cogs in her head recalibrate, so certain had she been that Alice and Jamie’s news had been of a different type altogether. ‘That’s wonderful. My God, that’s just fabulous,’ said Holly, throwing her arms around Alice in a heartfelt, if slightly delayed reaction. ‘Jess must be over the moon?’
Alice nodded, standing up. ‘In fact, she’s doing a little interview for Larkford Life in a minute. A proper glossy photo shoot in the yurt as well. I said I’d go and hold her hand. One way or another, we’re going to get Lavinia on board, so I thought, why not play to her interests?’
‘Genius,’ said Holly, particularly touched that Alice was already going the extra mile for her patients. ‘Will you give them a big hug from me?’
‘Me too,’ squealed a small excited voice, as a Lulu-shaped blur came running through the crowds and threw herself into Holly’s arms, a bundle of furry onesie and affection. ‘Hello,’ she said seriously, her entire face painted like a tiger and her stripy cheeks already slightly smudged with chocolate. ‘I’m a scary tiger.’
‘You are,’ agreed Holly, kissing her on the end of her nose. ‘A very happy tiger, by the looks of it.’
Lulu snuggled onto her lap, deftly moving Holly’s omnipresent kit bag to make more space. ‘Happy tiger,’ she confirmed, popping her thumb in her mouth and leaning back against Holly in complete relaxation.
Dan and Grace were only a few paces away, watching, thoughtfully giving Holly the moment she hadn’t known she needed. It seemed she wasn’t alone, as Ben quietly took Lulu’s hand, almost on autopilot, as though she’d never been away. One way or another, Lulu had become part of the very fabric of their family.
‘So,’ said Taffy, eyeing up his mate’s rather rumpled appearance, ‘how’s parenthood going?’
‘Exhausting, exhilarating, confusing and wonderful,’ Dan said, stifling a yawn and lovingly putting his arm around Grace’s shoulders.
‘Excellent,’ said Taffy happily, seemingly delighted to finally have his mate in the same boat.
‘Err, excuse me, guys?’ said one of Connor’s security team. ‘I don’t suppose you’re the family of Elsie Townsend, are you? Only she’s made herself rather at home on the tour bus and, well, she’s refusing to leave.’
‘I’ll come and get her,’ said Dan, barely batting an eyelid as his ‘family’ seemed to expand by the day in Larkford. He gave Holly a look. ‘But if she’s all tipsy and flirting, I’m handing her straight over to you, okay?’
Holly nodded. ‘She’s probably just winding them up.’
Dan walked away and Grace knelt down beside Holly and Lulu. ‘I hope she’s not too hurt that we turned down her generous offer with the house and everything?’
Holly shook her head. ‘Really not. In fact, although she’d never say it, I think she was a little relieved, actually. Number 44 was kind of her dream home – a real project from the heart. It’s quite the endorsement of your little family that she was prepared to give it up, I reckon.’
‘The Elsie Townsend seal of approval is not one to be taken lightly, either,’ said Taffy on the fringes of their conversation. ‘But I for one am delighted she’s next door. And not just for her Thursday night poker game.’
Holly smiled at him appreciatively, always taking their tumultuous life in his stride. Okay, so they’d hit a few potholes along the way, but the main truth remained. She loved him. Absolutely and unconditionally. And she couldn’t imagine raising her family with anyone else.
‘Now,’ he said, reading the emotive expression in her eyes like a book, and reaching into his pocket for a small tissue paper parcel, ‘don’t you go getting all emotional on me. I can’t promise this kind of serendipity for your Christmas present every year.’
He leaned across and kissed her firmly, lovingly on the lips, before sitting back on his heels and smiling as she unfurled the soft lilac tissue to reveal an exquisite moonstone Solstice pendant. ‘Better than the kettle last year, yes? Or the hole punch?’ He shrugged. ‘I know I’m rubbish at buying presents, Holls, but it doesn’t mean I love you any the less.’
He paused, taking in his wife’s stricken expression. ‘You’ve just worked out who you forgot to buy a present for, haven’t you?’ He leaned forward and kissed her again. ‘Maybe there’s something else I could unwrap instead?’ he whispered with a cheeky smile. ‘Plus, you know, this may actually be the best Christmas present ever: my wife – the woman who never forgets anything – on the back foot. Oh, I do love you, Toots.’
‘I love you too,’ she managed, blown away by how the tables had turned.
‘I’m guessing my second present might actually be a little overkill, then?’ he said with an unapologetic grin, as The Hive took to the main stage once more and Holly heard their names being mentioned in the introduction, just before the opening chords of the Van Morrison classic, and Holly’s ultimate feel-good song, ‘Brown-Eyed Girl’, began.
All eyes were on their little group, a family in so many ways, as Holly swallowed hard and sought Taffy’s hand with her own. They may have all their eggs in one very small basket, she thought, but she’d never felt quite so contented or at one with herself in her whole life.
Not such a shabby basket, after all.
Her children clapped and her friends cheered as Taffy led her by the hand into a small empty patch of grass and twirled her around to the music, catching her and kissing her to whoops and applause.
‘Happy Christmas, Taffs,’ she said, trying to catch her breath from dancing and laughing at the same time.
‘Better than the hole punch?’ he checked, twirling her around once more.
‘Definitely,’ she replied.