‘Okay, folks, nice work today. I think we’ve narrowed down what everyone is doing,’ Trip called as the rehearsal drew to a close. He hopped up on one of the wobbly plastic chairs. ‘The final scene list. Ready?’
He cleared his throat. ‘Here we have the official running order of Fox Bay Primary’s Celebration of Cornwall. Reception – Food and the Fishing industry. Year One – Music, including a Fleetwood Mac medley in honour of Mick Fleetwood’s roots. Year Two – Dance, with traditional Cornish folk dancing. Year Three – Literature, a chilling scene from Daphne Du Maurier’sJamaica Inn. Year Four – Language, including a lesson in Kernewek. Year Five – Sport, a demonstration of Cornish wrestling. Year Six – Mythology and story, the Legend of Tom Bawcock. The Finale will be a dramatic reenactment of Arthurian legend adapted by Year 4.’
‘Basically Game of Thrones but with eight-year-olds,’ Erin whispered to Ivy and she found herself giggling.
Trip drew a deep breath. ‘How does that sound?’
There was a hearty round of applause. The parents came to collect their children and everyone else began to tidy up.
‘I’m going to get Liv home,’ her mum called. ‘She’s shattered. See you later, Ivy.’
‘Bye, Ivy!’ called Mei, scooping up her coat and bag and following Erin and Callum out into the night. ‘See you soon! Looking forward to hanging out!’
‘Yeah, me too,’ called Ivy.It actually hadn’t been too bad, she thought to herself.
The hall had all but emptied, and Trip and Ivy found each other alone, stacking chairs. There was a small silence.
‘I mean,’ Ivy said eventually, ‘it’s going to be a complete train wreck.’
Trip grinned. ‘And I, for one, cannot wait. Don’t tell me that wasn’t kind of fun.’
‘It was surreal,’ said Ivy, dragging a stool over. She caught Trip’s eye and smiled. ‘Okay, I admit it. Yes. It was kind of fun. I’m impressed. You got the committee under control in the space of one evening.’
‘I have just one question,’ said Trip. ‘Before I commit.’
‘Go on,’ said Ivy cautiously.
‘What on earth is a Stargazy pie?’
Ivy was still explaining the pie, fish heads and all, to a fascinated-looking Trip when Mr Hargreaves came bustling in from the back room.
‘Enough! Let me finish this. Go home, my dears,’ he cried. ‘You’ve worked wonders, dear boy,’ he added happily. ‘Wonders.There’s hope for the show yet.’ He shook Ivy’s hand enthusiastically. ‘I can’t thank you enough for introducing us.’
‘Great,’ said Ivy, extricating her hand. ‘Glad it worked out.’
‘I’ll walk you to your car, Ivy,’ Trip said.
They headed out into the night, which had fallen in earnest while they were inside. ‘Whoa. When did it getsodark?’ he said. ‘I can’t see a thing.’
‘The streetlights are out in this bit,’ said Ivy, groping her way to the pavement. ‘This whole town is an accident waiting to happen. I parked along the harbour. This way. Let’s just hope we don’t bump into anything or any—’
‘Hang on,’ said Trip. ‘Stop a minute.’ He caught Ivy’s hand and she felt an odd shiver run up her arm. ‘Shut your eyes.’
‘Why?’ said Ivy suspiciously.
There was a smile in his voice. ‘My gran always used to tell us this trick when we were scared of the dark.Close your eyes for ten seconds and when you open them, everything will be brighter.’
Ivy hesitated.
‘Go on.’
She shut her eyes obediently and Trip counted slowly under his breath.
‘Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five …’
She opened one eye a crack. His hand was warm and firm in hers.
‘No peeking,’ he said sternly. She wondered how he knew and shut her eyes again. ‘You have to wait the whole ten or else it doesn’t work.Four, three, two, one. There. Open.’
