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“Welcome! Welcome!” says Mrs Radley standing beside a whiteboard which is set on an easel at the end of the long wooden table. “We’re just waiting for a couple of people, then we’ll begin.” She sucks in her cheeks and checks her watch.
Lydia waves to me and I walk over to sit beside her. She squeezes my hand and grins. I look around and smile hello to the other committee members: some of them I know. Mr Weston beams over to me and waves. Reverand Manvers nods and smiles. There are other faces I recognize but I don’t know the names. Set out in front of each person is a pink folder. I open mine. On the first page, there’s a welcome message and a list of contents and headings.
I begin to read when the door opens. Someone enters. I glance up from the page. It’s Cam looking sharp in his dark blue firefighter’s uniform. I suppress a gasp, but Lydia notices and gives my foot a swift kick, making me flinch.
“Ah, Mr Wickham. Perfect timing. Please have a seat.” Cam’s eyes meet mine and for a nano-second time stands still. Then he smiles and walks over to a vacant chair opposite.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” Mrs Radley booms. “Can I just take a moment before we get going to thank Mr Campbell Wickham for agreeing, at short notice, to be our fire service representative for this year’s Annual Spring Fair? As you all know, this event could not go ahead without you, Mr Wickham.” Mrs Radley places her hand on her chest and bows slightly. “Please, put your hands together everyone, and join me in a show of our appreciation.”
Mrs Radley begins clapping, enthusiastically encouraging others at the table to do likewise. Cam appears a little embarrassed to be in the spotlight. He says, thank you, quietly, several times, before the applause dies down. He glances across at me as if looking for backup. I shoot Cam, what I hope, is a reassuring smile.
“Thank you, Mrs Radley,” Cam says, smiling politely at each person in turn. “I’m looking forward to doing what I can to make this Spring Fair successful and safe.”
Mrs Radley then introduces each of the committee members and then proceeds to open her pink folder.
“If you would like to open up at the contents page, I’ll talk you through the items we’ll be discussing this evening. I aim to get through items one to six before we break for refreshments, and then we’ll cover seven to twelve. I hope to distribute tasks and responsibilities tonight so we can move forward swiftly and report back on progress at the next meeting. Please see the times and dates for meetings, here at the back.” Mrs Radley holds up her folder open at the printed calendar for the following eight weeks. She then clips an enlarged printout of the town’s sports field to the whiteboard. Mrs Radley asks us to find a smaller-sized printout in our folders, where color-coded icons indicate handicraft stalls; food and beverage marquees; children’s playground; entertainment stage area; portable restrooms; and the battle re-enactment area. She points to each zone with her pen.
“This is the layout of last year’s fair, so we can go ahead and use this, or make changes accordingly.” She addresses us as if we are troops on the frontline.
Following the itemized list, we discuss all sorts of details - everything from safety protocols to decorations to live music and entertainment, sponsorship and marketing. The folder contains a directory of names and contact details of all the businesses, volunteers, and entertainers who were present at the previous year’s fair. I’m impressed by Mrs Radley’s organizational skills.
In the break for refreshments, Lydia excuses herself and heads to the restroom. Committee members stand and stretch. Some chat together at the refreshments table that has been laid out with cups and saucers, plates of biscuits, and pots of coffee, tea, and chilled water. I pour out some coffee and watch Cam relaxing back in his chair. He catches me looking, stands up, and walks over.
“Hi, Molly. This is a surprise,” he says reaching for a coffee pot. “I didn’t know you were on the committee.”
“Well, this is my first year. Something I’ve been meaning to do. I’ve been to the fair many times. It’s a pretty big deal in Oak River.” I sip my coffee. “I figured it was time for me to help out. This year it’s going be awesome.”
“Mrs Radley has thought of everything.” Cam smiles as he pours out some coffee. “There are a few potential safety issues, but yes, as long as Sinatra is kept on a leash, it should be a fun day.” We laugh.
Then I ask, “So how come you’ve been roped in?”
“Ah, well. It seems there was no one else available. Haha. I was kind of press-ganged into it. A case of, either I do it, or the show just doesn’t go on. I couldn’t have that on my conscience. And considering what the fair means to people here, who knows, I might have been the target of a public lynching.” Cam laughs. “And if the only reason for the show not to go on was the lack of a qualified fire department rep, well, that would be a shame.”
“Yes, it would be. A year without the Spring Fair in Oak River? I can’t imagine that. So, thanks, on behalf of everyone.”
“You’re welcome.”
Lydia comes back from the restroom with freshened-up pink lipstick. I introduce her to Cam. She smiles coyly and holds out her hand as if she’s a duchess or some royal lady.
“Ah, Mr Wickham. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” she purrs as she steals a subtle sideways wink at me. I roll my eyes and hope Cam didn’t notice Lydia's wink or my embarrassment.
Chapter 8
Cam
“Dex.” I close my eyes and concentrate on breathing patience into my voice. “I can’t be on the Spring Parade committee,” I explain to my friend on the phone. “I’m leaving in two weeks, remember?”
“It’s the Annual Spring Fair.”
“Fair. Parade. Whatever. I am not staying.” Exasperation colors my words. “You’ll have to get someone else.”
“Cam. I know this is an imposition and I wouldn’t ask you if I had other options open, but I don’t. If a fire department rep is not present on the committee, the event won’t go ahead. If you want that on your conscience, then you’re a harder man than I thought, Cam Wickham.” Dex gives me a moment to allow his words to sink in before he continues. “Now. Here’s the plan. I’ve been in touch with head office, and they have agreed to extend your contract here.”
“You are kidding me!”
“No. No, I’m not. I’ve told them you’re doing a sterling job with recruitment and training, which is true. So, they are over the moon and more than happy to accommodate an extension for however long you want.”
“But Dex. I don’t want. You want. What I want is to get back to my life in the city. I’m paying double rent and I have a non-refundable gym membership that’s going to waste.” I try to think of other reasons to leave, but that’s all I can come up with.
