He shrugged. ‘The primary school reopened today which was a blessing for Abi and me. The twins might love snow days but it’s tricky when you’re trying to run a business.’
‘When do they break up for Christmas?’
He loaded up our tray. ‘Next Tuesday. The nativity play is on Monday and we’re praying the snow doesn’t shut the school again as our two little ones will be mortified.’
‘Aww, do they have parts?’
He nodded. ‘Shepherd number 3 and Sheep number 2.’
‘Amazing, I hope they have a great time.’ I tapped my card against the card machine.
‘There is another issue with the nativity play,’ he explained, sorting out our teacakes.
I was about to carry the tea over to Grandpa but stopped to listen.
‘They had a lady who was going to paint the background scenery – the night sky and the stable – but she’s been taken to hospital, so they’ve asked the PTA to help.’ He pointed towards the back of the shop. ‘Abi is on the PTA and her painting skills are not great.’
A voice from the back shouted, ‘I heard that.’
We all laughed. Darren carried on. ‘She’s struggling to find someone to paint…’
As he talked, I recalled Olivia’s words,Grow your outer world.I could paint something for the school. It would get me out of the house, and I might meet a few new people in Harp Brook. Before he’d finished the words flew out of my mouth. ‘I paint and I would love to help the nativity play.’
‘Abi!’ shouted Darren. ‘I think we’ve saved the nativity play.’
A head poked out from behind a tray of freshly baked loaves. Abi grinned. ‘This sounds exciting.’
I took out my phone and brought up some photos of my paintings. Abi squealed when she saw them. ‘Rachel, are you free tonight, by any chance?’
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
Grandpa insisted that I take him along to meet Abi and a few other members of the PTA in the school hall. ‘You will need someone to pass you a paintbrush or two,’ he explained.
‘It might be boring to listen to Abi and me talk about painted scenery; and then I will have to apply a base layer of paint.’
Grandpa shook his head. ‘Robert painted my living room last summer. Now, that was boring.’ I smiled as he put on his coat. ‘Gave a whole new meaning to watching paint dry. Your aunty Karen thought it would be nice for me to sit there as Robert painted my walls magnolia. I might be in my eighties, but I can still entertain myself. Please let me come so I can watch this artwork of yours take shape.’
Harp Brook Church Primary School was on the outskirts of the village. It was easy to find, and the school car park had been cleared of snow. Abi had told me to meet her in the school hall at 6pm, so Grandpa and I made our way there. The walls were covered with children’s festive artwork, Christmas decorations, achievement certificates and photos.
In one corner was a pile of PE mats which reminded me of my school days when my friends and I would do cartwheels instead of practising boring forward rolls as the teacher had asked.
A small group of parents turned around and stared at us. Two of them began whispering to each other and glancing at us. They didn’t come across as friendly as they carried on relaying secret messages to each other. I was sure one of them mentioned ‘Frank Baxter’, which made me silently groan.
Abi appeared and cast us both a huge smile. Her red hair was pulled up into a ponytail and she was wearing black maternity dungarees which struggled to cover her enormous baby bump. ‘Hello, both, come and join me up here.’ She leapt up the three steps which led onto the stage and waved us up.
Grandpa took the steps up to the stage before me and I was about to follow him when I heard someone say in a loud voice, ‘Abi, isn’t there anyone else who can paint the scenery?’
I spun around to see a tall woman with long brown hair standing behind me with her arms folded across her chest. Her face was emotionless and cold.
Abi came to the edge of the stage. ‘Denise, Rachel here is an amazing painter and she’s offered to do it for free.’
‘You know how people feel aboutherfamily,’ the woman said, glaring at me.
What the hell did she mean? ‘Excuse me,’ I said, as my face began to heat up.
The woman spoke directly to Abi. ‘I don’t want anyone related to the Baxters painting the set for the play.’
Abi groaned. ‘Denise, we have no one else and the nativity is on Monday.’
