Chapter 13

13

‘And now to the serious matter of Gertrude.’ The mayoress, Miss Cooke, shuffled her papers as a murmuring swept through her audience.

‘Gertrude?’ Laura looked at Jackson quizzically. She’d not heard that name since arriving here.

‘The sheep.’ Jackson whispered. ‘That’s what?—’

‘Florence!’ a young woman called from behind them.

‘Davina!’ ‘Freda!’ ‘Roselyn!’ A group of teenagers to the left called out.

‘Yes, yes.’ Miss Cooke quietened the crowd.

Huh. How many fugitive sheep were there in the village? Had it been a mass escape from the farm? She’d just assumed Claudette had been a Lone Ranger, a lucky one.

‘Officer Huntley will update us on this issue.’ Miss Cooke’s voice grew louder, bringing the attention back to herself before she stepped aside and a man in a police uniform took her place at the lectern.

Clearing his throat, Officer Huntley nodded to Miss Cooke before looking out across his audience. ‘The operation to remove the sheep is ongoing, and we are dealing with it as a matter of urgency. I am aware that chaos has been caused on the village green and the snowdrops planted by our students at the primary school have taken a bashing?—’

‘What about the allotments? My fences are down. Again. Who’s going to repair those? I’ve already done it once.’ A man with a long beard and flat cap stood up, waving his hand to grab the police officer’s attention.

‘That’s right, we’ve had numerous reports detailing the destruction at the allotments,’ Officer Huntley continued.

Laura tugged on Jackson’s coat to get his attention. ‘Destruction? Chaos? Vandalisation? We are still talking about the sheep, aren’t we? Or have I missed something and they’re now discussing an unruly gang of criminals?’

Covering his mouth with his hand, Jackson muffled a chuckle. ‘You know these farm animals, a dangerous bunch they are.’

‘What with bandanas covering their faces in fear of recognition and carrying baseball bats for protection?’ Laura grinned.

‘Exactly. Who wants to come across one of them in a dark alleyway?’ Jackson’s eyes creased with suppressed laughter. ‘Although you could have fallen from the roof, remember? So the point is proven that the devastation caused by an escapee can have dire consequences.’

‘Oh yes, if I had, I guess this would now be a murder investigation.’

‘I should think so.’

An elderly woman in the front row stood up. ‘I just hope this matter is resolved before the spring. I spent hours planting bulbs. I would hate for anything to happen to my daffs when they begin to grow.’

‘The blighter was in my garden again last night, came right through the hedge she did, leaving a gaping hole and muddy paw prints all over my patio.’ A man shook his fist, his face growing a deep shade of red.

‘Paw prints? A sheep with paws? Like with fur and pads and everything?’ Jackson spoke behind his hand.

‘Don’t. I think I’m going to burst out laughing in a moment.’ Laura swallowed, her shoulders beginning to shake as she tried to keep a straight face.

Jackson shrugged. ‘You and me both.’

‘As I’ve said before, please continue to report sightings and I’m hopeful that one day in the near future we’ll be able to locate the sheep’s refuge.’ Officer Huntley stepped back from the lectern; a flush of relief evident on his face.

‘Thank you, Officer Huntley. Very reassuring to know that you’re still on the case.’ Miss Cooke took her position again. ‘And I’ll reiterate what Officer Huntley has said, any and all sightings must be reported and hopefully we can get this case closed and Gertrude off our streets.’

Leaning across to Jackson again, Laura lowered her voice. ‘What about Claudette? Or the other sheep? Why aren’t they going after them too?’

Jackson looked back at her and grinned. ‘They’re?—’

‘Lovely to see you, Jackson. I didn’t realise you were sitting behind me.’ Turning in her chair, Ms Taunton reached through the gap between her chair and the person next to her and laid her hand on Jackson’s knee.

Clearing his throat, Jackson nodded at her as she turned back around.

Searching his face, Laura noticed his cheeks had pinked.

‘And that brings us to the final matter of the evening, the upcoming craft fair.’ Miss Cooke cracked a smile. ‘The village council have been working tirelessly to recruit stallholders from our village and the surrounding ones and the variety of goods which will be on offer sounds divine. We do still have a list of volunteers needed though, so I’ll pass you over to Jill Davies.’

Jill, a red-haired woman with a young toddler clinging to her leg, stepped onto the stage and opened a small notebook. ‘Evening, everyone. I apologise for the clingy, exhausted toddler, we’re transitioning from having naps to no naps, and, yep you guessed it, this one sneaked in a nap today, so rather than leaving him at home to disrupt bedtime for the other kids, he’s here with me.’

Miss Cooke rubbed the toddler’s back before stepping back. ‘I’m sure you’ll be a good boy while Mummy talks, won’t you?’

‘You have more faith than me.’ Jill smiled at Miss Cooke before turning back to the villagers. ‘It’s looking as though we’re going to have some really marvellous handcrafted creations on offer for our first craft fair of the year, but there are a few voluntary positions we’re hoping to be able to fill this evening. First off, we’re hoping to sell tea and coffee from the kitchen here and…’

Laura turned and glanced towards the back of the hall. A door led off to the side, with a wooden hatch next to it.

‘…Which brings me to the reason I’m standing in front of you tonight.’ Jill leaned down and picked up her toddler, positioning him on her hip before continuing. ‘Well, one of the reasons. The first was to update you all, the other is to plead for volunteers who would be willing to put an hour’s work in serving drinks and cakes in the kitchen and helping set up the stalls in the morning and tidy up after the event.’

Now, Laura thought, this might just be the perfect opportunity for her to contribute towards village life and to prove to people that she was in it for the long haul, that she meant to stay living in Meadowfield and that the inn wasn’t just a money deal for her. Before she could back out, she raised her arm in the air.

Jackson nudged her side and raised his hand, too. ‘I’ll join you. Might even bring Eden along. She’d love helping out and serving cake.’

‘Aw, that’s a good idea.’ Laura smiled. He was so sweet thinking about his niece.

‘Fantastic! What a response!’ Jill high-fived her toddler’s tiny hand. ‘I’ll just pop your names down. Please keep your hands in the air until I’ve said your name.’

Miss Cooke stepped back to the lectern and took Jill’s notebook. ‘I’ll take the names down. Thank you, Jill.’

‘Great. Thanks again, everyone. It’s so lovely to see we’ve got such a great support in Meadowfield for these events.’ Jill stepped down from the stage and made her way back to her seat in the front row as her toddler waved to the audience.

‘Aw, such a sweetie,’ Jackson whispered across to her as he waved back to the small child.

‘Yes.’ Laura smiled. She hadn’t seen this side of Jackson before, not before moving to Pennycress and seeing him with his niece. Yes, he’d always been the ‘fun uncle’, as Richie called him, to Richie and Jenny’s children, or he had when she’d last seen him with them at a family roast before he’d stopped coming, but this was different. Was he broody?

‘Penny for them.’ Jackson leaned closer, the fragrance from his aftershave tickling her nose.

‘Well, if you must know, I was wondering if you’d reached that time in your life when you were thinking about?—’

‘Ron, thank you.’ Miss Cooke jabbed her pen towards the raised hands in the audience before scribbling in the notebook. ‘Lesley, again, thank you.’

‘If I was what?’ Jackson’s voice was quiet, his eyes focused on Laura as Miss Cooke continued to call out to the volunteers.

Laura shifted in her seat, suddenly feeling self-conscious. What if he thought she was insinuating that she and him…? She shook her head. Where had that thought even come from? With one arm still raised, she tugged on the collar of her coat. It suddenly felt quite warm in the stuffy old hall.

‘Susanne, thanks, love. Rachel, great help.’ Miss Cooke’s pen would soon be in danger of running out of ink, the list seemed to be growing that quickly.

‘Broody.’ She blurted the word out louder than she’d meant to and cringed as Ms Taunton and the couple sitting in front of them turned around, their eyes wide and their mouths gaping. She covered her face with her free hand and inwardly groaned.

Seemingly oblivious to the attention they’d gained, Jackson answered, ‘Maybe. I’d like kids one day, that’s for sure.’

‘Right,’ Laura muttered under her breath, a fierce heat still flooding her face.

‘Freda, amazing,’ Miss Cooke continued.

‘And you?’

‘Me?’ Could this conversation get any more awkward? Not that she should be feeling awkward with Jackson. They used to speak about anything and everything, but… ‘Same as you. One day.’

Nodding, Jackson grinned before nudging her again with his free elbow and indicating Miss Cooke on stage. ‘If this list of volunteers gets any longer, I don’t think there’ll be anyone left in the village to go and buy the crafty bits on sale.’

‘Haha, you’re right.’ Thankful for the change in conversation, Laura felt her shoulders relax, though she kept one arm resolutely raised.

‘Jackson, lovely to have you in our group of volunteers.’ Miss Cooke abruptly closed her notebook, entrapping the pen inside. ‘And I think we have all the volunteers we need. Many thanks to the kind souls who are willing to give up their time for the greater good of the community.’

Huh, that was it? They’d got to Jackson and suddenly all the voluntary roles were filled? Laura lowered her arm slowly and looked around. Was she the only one in the position of being passed over to volunteer? It looked like it. ‘Great… My warm welcome into village life continues.’

‘Shhh!’ The woman from the couple in front of them twisted in her seat again and glared.

‘Sorry,’ Laura mumbled and resisted the strong urge to roll her eyes.

‘Aw, don’t take it personally. They’ve got half the village as volunteers already.’ Jackson tilted his head towards her.

‘Erm, then one more wouldn’t have made a jot of difference, would it? I tell you, I’m not welcome here.’ She crossed her arms and sank lower in her chair. ‘No one wants me here.’

‘Are you pouting?’

She narrowed her eyes at him. She could see the twitching in the corners of his lips, could almost hear his internal chuckle. ‘It’s okay for you. Everyone loves you. They always do.’

‘Laura?’ Jackson gave her a look which reminded her of her college tutor.

She shrugged and whispered back, ‘It’s true.’

‘And that’s all for tonight’s meeting. Thank you for coming.’ Miss Cooke’s voice cut through the audience and just as soon as she’d finished uttering her last word, people started to stand and file out.