At that moment, Minty called the last of the stragglers to order, and a young, handsome blond man went by, dressed from head to sneaker in black, designer streetwear.
‘You okay, Sam?’ he mouthed as he went, which made the girl smile back shyly. Annie had her answer.
The three of them watched on as he obediently took his seat next to Estée Gold.
‘That’s my Jasper,’ Sam said.
‘Another Clove Lore love match.’ Annie was clearly enjoying this.
Sam didn’t answer, only blushing pink all down her neck, and the three of them made their way to the circle to join the meeting, Harri feeling very much like an exhibit in a museum: a specimen of the single Welsh holidaymaker, and by the way Mrs Crocombe was scribbling frantically in her notebook and showing the page to a smirking Izaak, he guessed the villagers were determined he wouldn’t stay single for long.
Well, more fool them, he thought smugly. Little did they know he was only here to make Annie happy. There’d be no matches made for these Borrowers, and they’d all know it, come Valentine’s Day when they shipped out of Clove Lore once more and went their separate ways.
Suddenly, Harri didn’t feel quite so smug. He finished his wine and hugged his arms around himself to quell the empty feeling.
Harri wondered if this was how all village meetings went around here. It had started off oddly with Minty’s husband Jowan standing up to read the list of ‘apologies’ from people who couldn’t be present, which included a regretful ‘Aldous’ who was ‘hopefully not biting poor Anjali round about now’, and this had descended into a long, involved discussion about how Aldous – who Harri sincerely hoped was a dog – had grown so scruffy over winter he’d been sent to the vet for a tidy up; something, Harri gathered, Aldous was not keen on.
Jude the baker was sitting opposite Harri in the circle and beside her was a huge, dark-haired, ridiculously handsome fellow in green scrubs. They were holding hands. He must be the ex-Borrower the matchmakers had mentioned. Elliot, was it?
He’d chimed in to confirm his confidence in his colleague’s abilities to handle the wrath of Jowan’s elderly Bedlington Terrier, and then Minty had to call everyone to order because the circle fell to gossiping once again after Mrs Crocombe enquired after Anjali the vet and whethershewas seeing anyone at the moment. She had pinned Harri with a meaningful look before writing something down in her book.
Annie witnessed the whole thing and didn’t even try to hide her mirth until Harri threw her a scowl and she pretended to be chastened, clamping her lips.
The first item on the agenda came from the smart blond guy sitting next to Estée Gold, the one who had made Samantha blush. He got to his feet to address the room, speaking in a true Transatlantic accent with hints of a decidedly posh Chelsea twang.
‘So, hey everybody, I’m Jasper Gold.’ This was clearly for the benefit of Harri and Annie, the incomers, as Samantha had called them. ‘As most of you know, my classic cinema afternoons begin on February fourteenth.’
This was met with a smattering of applause, and an exuberant little whoop from Sam.
‘Tickets have been selling well for our first event and I think I’ve dealt with concerns about potential bad weather.’
‘Don’t want your first showin’ to be rained off,’ interrupted a very red-faced, stocky little man in green waterproofs sitting very close to Mrs Crocombe. ‘I said it, didn’t I? That sittin’ outside watching a film in the middle of February won’t be everyone’s cup of tea.’ He looked very proud of himself for making this observation.
‘Yes, well, thank you, Mr Bovis,’ Jasper continued, swishing sleek blond strands away from his eyes. ‘There’ll be one parasol to each pair of deckchairs in case of rain showers, and everyone has been told to wrap up warm and waterproof, and they can bring a blanket. There’ll be hot drinks, not to mention Monty’s grill for hotdogs.’
‘I’m bringing my hot water bottle,’ interrupted Mrs Crocombe.
‘Yes, quite,’ Jasper flustered. ‘And if there’s high winds, Minty has said we can move inside to the ballroom.’
‘But it shan’t rain,’ Estée Gold added confidently, like she truly believed she had control over the Devonshire weather.
Harri could feel Annie’s body radiating pure joy every time one of the barmy elder locals spoke. He was glad she was enjoying herself, but he was a little too worried about what Mrs C. might be planning to relax.
‘Is it open to anyone? Your movie?’ Annie piped up.
‘Yup, I’ve got tickets with me, if you want some afterwards? It’sWhen Harry Met Sally. Starts at sunset, four-thirty.’
‘Oh, I love that movie,’ Annie burst out.
Harri had never seen it. He figured that was about to change.
‘Jasper’s our local film buff,’ Mr Bovis put in. ‘Brilliant in the pub quiz, and so good for our young Sam Capstan.’
Poor Sam only looked down at her crossed ankles and pretended she wasn’t blushing.
Mr Bovis and Mrs Crocombe are as thick as thieves, observed Harri, watching how close they were and how vehemently Mrs C. was agreeing with him.
‘I’m mostly into avant-garde cinema,’ Jasper Gold continued, ‘but you have to show what the local people want, apparently.’ This was said through a gritted-teeth smile, giving Harri the impression the film choice may have been a bone of contention at an earlier village meeting.
