Page 66 of Matilda’s Summer of New Beginnings

I leaned over and tapped him on the shoulder. ‘Well done for getting up on stage earlier,’ I whispered, smiling. ‘Polly would have appreciated it.’

Owen smiled back. ‘I had to learn it for a uni production of Henry V. I never really forgot it.’ He turned back to the stage. ‘Do you think she’s all right? Waiting there for her name to be called?’

I smiled at his quiet confidence and trusted it was well placed. ‘I hope so,’ I said. ‘I was going to go over and see her after the results, whatever they were — but why don’t you go? Give her my love and tell her I’ll catch her later. I don’t want to overwhelm the poor girl. Especially if she wins.’ Truthfully, if that happened, I really wanted to go and give her a massive hug. But I knew this wasn’t my moment, and Owen had to be the one to see her after the announcement, whatever it was.

‘Thanks. I will.’ He nodded decisively and continued to stare at the stage. I crossed my fingers inside my pocket. If pockets really were witchy things, I needed all the help I could get to put a charm on the pair of them.

By now, the hounds had reached Mrs Pomeroy. One of them lay on his back and growled gently, refusing to release the winner’s note until his stomach was well rubbed. The other had swallowed the note with one big gulp and was now looking up at Mrs Pomeroy adoringly. Eventually, Mrs Pomeroy wrestled the folded piece of paper from the first dog’s soggy chops, and opened the note. ‘And the winner of this year’s Padcock’s Got Talent,’ said Mrs Pomeroy, importantly, ‘is Polly Adamson!’

‘Hurrah!’ I screamed. ‘Well done Polly!’

‘Nice one!’ yelled someone that sounded very much like Jay.

I darted a glance at him, but the audience had erupted, and our whole row were already on our feet, clapping and stamping and cheering as Polly was ushered onto the stage, clutching her guitar. She froze halfway and just stood staring out at everyone. Her eyes sought Owen, and he quickly stood up, walked over to the stage, and climbed onto it. Taking her hand, he led her gently over to the centre of the stage, and then melted away. I just knew he was standing in the wings, ready to receive her when she came off the stage.

It was lovely. And my witchy pockets had worked! Yay.

Mrs Pomeroy said a few more words, but Polly was spared any speechmaking bar a squeaky little “thank you”, and then it seemed we were free to go. Our little group stood up and drew together in an untidy circle chattering excitedly about the show — well, everyone was talking except Jay, who simply nodded enthusiastically and gave everyone the thumbs up.

‘She’ll have to do an encore after the prize-giving,’ said Cerys excitedly. ‘I’m so glad I taught her to play “Landslide” as well!’

Jay nodded and raised his thumbs up in response.

I definitely needed to speak to him later.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Edie broke away from the group and hurried over to me. ‘Matilda! Wasn’t that amazing! What a super-fabulous result! It had to be Polly though, it just had to be! Look, Nin is going to take Bean back to our stalls with Sam and Cerys, so I’m free. Fancy coming back to the Art Tent with me? I saw it briefly this morning, but I need to go back. Damien, do you want to come too?’

‘Where? To the Art Tent?’ Damien appeared seemingly out of nowhere and made me jump. ‘I wouldn’t mind having another look. Matilda’s pretty secretive with her work at home — no idea what she’s doing half the time.’

‘Well to be fair, neither have I,’ I grumbled. I did struggle with inspiration, that wasn’t a lie. ‘But it’ll be nice to see my pictures hanging up again. Hold on. Does that mean I have to go to Machismo and see yours?’ I really didn’t want to. The whole ethos of the place appalled me. But I knew that I’d still go if Damien’s work was being exhibited.

‘Not even sure I want to go and see mine there.’ Damien pulled a face. ‘No. I think I’ll pull it. I mean — there’s more to life, isn’t there? I don’t need that sort of exposure, especially not now I’ve got a sensible job.’

‘It’s entirely up to you,’ I told him.

He didn’t look that sure though. It was his big break after all, I understood that.

Edie was meanwhile striding in front of us leading the way, and even her back looked purposeful.

As we approached the tent, Edie pulled her phone out. ‘There’s someone else I want to show the pictures to as well,’ she threw over her shoulder. Then she wagged her finger in Damien’s direction. ‘And don’t you go anywhere either,’ she said.

It was an odd thing for her to say, and Damien looked at me questioningly.

‘Maybe it’s whoever’s in charge of the Padcock Pathway leaflet?’

‘Maybe. Hey — what’s she doing?’

Damien and I watched Edie apparently dial up someone on a video call and start talking to them.

‘Hello Julio!’ she chirped. ‘How are you?’

An Italian voice was suddenly quacking out of her phone, as Edie swept into the tent, turned the phone around and began to move it slowly around my display, talking just as excitedly back to the phone.

Damien looked at me blankly. ‘Gallery Julio?’ he asked.

I shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Surely there are other Julios that exist?’