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He laughs. “No, it’s a person. Tyrrell has a horse-drawn caravan. He does a lot of the deliveries around here. Anything bigger, we have a tractor which can haul building materials, but I don’t think you need any.”
“And you will pay Tyrrell?”
“No. As I said, we don’t offer money. But Tyrrell is a friend of Hedge’s. They play together and I think he’ll do it for free.”
I look up from my list. “Play together…”Poker? Monopoly? Hide and seek?
“Music.”
I have a hilarious image of Grandad strumming a guitar and crooning into a mike while girls scream at his feet.
“Have you even met my grandfather?”
“Of course. He takes part in some of the festivals. He plays the lyre and crumhorn.”
Grandad? Really? How did none of us know this; no one in my family ever mentioned it. Did they even care? So, I sit back and sip my wine and let Myles tell me about Hedge the local authority on island folklore, the fighter who was a member of the resistance during the German occupation, and most surprising of all, the old man leading and presiding over local festivals.
“They do what?” I laugh, choking on my wine.
“Dance around, eat roasted hog, and drink mulled cider,” Myles answers, deadpan.
“My grandad dances around—?”
“No, he just plays the music. It’s the young people who dance and drink. It’s called the Tide Festival.”
Finally, something clicks into place. “That’s why people kept asking me to tell him they hoped he’d be ‘hale for the tide’.”
“Haleis La Canette-speak for fit, you know, healthy. And the tide is Hocktide, it’s an old festival, normally held just after Easter.”
Myles pushes his chair back and stands up, taking my empty wine glass. “Same again?”
“How can I talk business if you keep plying me with plonk?” I ask.
“I think you can relax. You’ve had a lot of information in one night. Why don’t we have dinner? The Swan always has a carvery on Friday nights.”
“Thank you but I’d better not leave Grandad alone too long. Besides,” I peer out of the window at the gathering dark. “It looks like it might start raining.”
Myles walks me home to make sure I don’t slip and fall. When we get to Labri Catch, he stops outside the front door. “We can do it again. I’m sure Hedge won’t mind you going out at night. Unless you have a jealous boyfriend?” he says the last line like a question.
A small laugh escapes me. “No. No boyfriend, jealous or otherwise.”
Then memories catch up to me. Andrew kissing me on his way to work in the morning.Don’t wait up, I’ll be late.And,I’m in New York this week, see you next Monday.All the time, he and Barbara were sleeping together right under my nose. And idiot, unjealous, uninformed me hadn’t thought to even check on a single of one of their stories.
My face must show some of my feelings because Myles, who had in fact been leaning in for a kiss, pulls back, a question in his eyes.
“Sorry.” I shake my head. “Long story.”
How did I miss this vibe? Had he been flirting with me earlier?
“Don’t worry,” he says taking a step back. “It’s a cold night, I didn’t want you getting lost and wandering the island in the dark.”
“That would have been bad.” I laugh a little to play along with his face-saving joke. We are both trying to retreat from the almost-kiss.
“Have a good night, Elodie. I’ll start the ball rolling on the shop for you,” he says, all business-like again.
Another man, even Andrew, would have been miffed with me and less eager to help. Myles however is a much nicer man. And if his ball-rolling is any indication, he’s also very good at his job.
It all starts the next day, and the ball goes on rolling for weeks.
