Page 80 of The Village of Lost and Found

He was so grateful to be writing again. However Tom knew that it was all down to Lucy. It was incredible how much she had achieved in her short time so far in Cranbridge and how she still talked about her own lack of talent. She was a people person. Even now Lucy was bringing over a lady with a young boy to speak to him.

‘This is Denise,’ said Lucy. ‘She runs the Mothers and Toddlers group that I told you about.’

‘Of course,’ said Tom, shaking her hand. ‘Any luck yet with finding a new venue?’

Denise shook her head. ‘I’m afraid not. We’re using people’s gardens at the moment, but I don’t know what will happen when the weather turns.’

Her little boy was holding up a home-made poster for Tom to admire. Tom bent down and studied the paper with careful consideration. The phrases Stop The Quarry! and What About My Future? were surrounded by quite a few dinosaur stickers.

‘This is great,’ said Tom, bringing out his phone. ‘Can I take a photo of you to place it in this week’s newspaper?’

‘Yes please,’ lisped the boy, looking delighted.

‘I can’t wait to tell my parents that he’ll be in the paper,’ said Denise, looking equally pleased as they watched Tom take the photo.

Tom then wandered around the crowd, taking more photographs to fill the pages and also use on social media.

He spotted Molly chatting animatedly with various people. She was another person who appeared to have benefitted from Lucy’s arrival in the village. She was much more confident in herself these days and was making the most of developing the paper’s social media accounts which were increasing in popularity at a rapid pace.

‘This takes me back!’ Josh’s mum, Cathy, was saying. ‘I used to protest on Greenham Common, you know. CND and women’s lib! On the pill and off with the bras! Those were the days.’

‘Would it help if I took my bra off?’ asked Grandma Tilly, wondering out loud.

Everyone exchanged horrified looks.

Tom stepped forward. ‘I’m not sure that was the kind of headline I was going for in our family newspaper,’ he said, trying to be kind.

‘Perhaps you’re right,’ said Grandma Tilly, nodding thoughtfully. ‘If the tabloids turn up, then I’ll reconsider it.’

Next to Grandma Tilly, the members of the local Women’s Institute had outdone themselves by sellotaping themselves to the railings outside the council offices.

‘Jolly well done,’ said one gentleman as he walked past.

‘Oh, thank you so much,’ replied one of the WI ladies. ‘Do have a cupcake. They’re my speciality.’

The man looked delighted as he glanced down at the beautifully written icing which read Stop The Quarry!

Tom had just stepped over to the other side of the road to take a group photo when Sam, one of the local farmers, turned up in his tractor and blocked the shot.

‘I can’t find anywhere to park up,’ said Sam, climbing down from the driver’s cab when Tom went over to see him. ‘It’s market day. Plus I’ve got the trailer on. This lot’s going to the allotments.’

The smell of fresh manure hit Tom’s nose before he even glanced at the heap of dung in the trailer.

‘I’ll try going round the block again, just in case,’ said Sam.

But before he was able to get back into the tractor, Grandma Tilly rushed forward.

‘Sam!’ she called out. ‘Am I able to swipe some of this? It’ll do wonders for my roses. I’ve got a carrier bag somewhere.’ But as she searched in her handbag, one of the handles caught a lever on the side of the trailer. Grandma Tilly pulled at the leather to try to free the handle. But that only succeeded in moving the lever all the way forward.

‘Careful!’ said Sam, suddenly darting off around the front of the tractor and waving his hands.

But it was too late. The trailer had begun to rise up at one end and out flowed a steady stream of farm manure all over the pavement.

Sam swiftly freed Grandma Tilly’s handbag and pulled the lever the other way but by now, there was a large pile of manure right next to the steps leading into the council offices.

‘I’d better hop it,’ said Sam, securing the trailer before quickly getting into his tractor and driving away.

‘Ooops,’ said Grandma Tilly with a sheepish grin as everyone stared at her. ‘Well, we did say that this whole thing stinks, didn’t we?’