Chapter Seventeen
Kieran
St Ives is alive tonight with light and colour, music and laughter. When the town gets together like this, there’s nowhere like it in the world. I see images I want to capture everywhere – smiles and spectacles, tiny details and wide, sweeping landscapes. The night sky is clear and ink-black, a silver moon high in the sky.
It would be magical if I hadn’t yelled at Aggie.
Tonight, my camera is a barrier, a perfect excuse for not making conversation. I’m a coward, I know. But I still don’t know what to say to her. I never lose my temper like that. It’s my dad’s party trick, not mine. I’d say I didn’t know why it happened, but the days since, when we haven’t talked, have left me in no doubt. I’m falling for Aggie Keats, harder than I have for anyone else. I’m scared to say it – and if she’s back with Seth Lannaker it’s pointless anyway – but this silence between us is the worst thing.
We join the other lantern bearers in a hotel car park opposite the station and I take my place beside Cerrie. Seren and Aggie stand in front. I’ve rigged up a shoulder harness for my lantern – a gold crescent moon – to keep my hands free for taking photos. I can feel its movement like the undulating lap of waves against a boat as we wait to start walking. Lou, at the head of the parade, raises his illuminated staff we’re all secretly referring to as Lou’s Lightsaber to tell us to turn on the LED lights inside our lanterns. Suddenly the car park is flooded with warm, pastel-coloured light, a sea of softly swaying, gently glowing shapes dancing in the night. And suddenly, everyone is aware of this beautiful, awe-inspiring spectacle we’re all part of. A reverent hush settles over us as we gaze up at our lanterns. But my eyes are drawn to Aggie.
Man, she’s beautiful.
The light catches the wide streaks of vivid red and bottle-blonde in her hair that’s piled up on the top of her head in a wild bundle of colour and curls, the contours of her face bathed in the pale rose glow from her lantern. She’s luminous. It would only take the smallest step forward to reach her and whisper the truth . . .
‘And we’re off!’ Lou yells, snatching the moment from me as the accordions and drums and fiddles at the head of the line start to play. We move forward together – and the parade begins.
The streets are lined with people, their heads washed with lantern glow as the parade passes. Every shop window twinkles with lights and many of the crowd wave glow-sticks or sport flashing Christmas deely boppers, no doubt sold by the hawkers along the parade route. Kids seated high on grown-ups’ shoulders wave and point excitedly at the lanterns: stars, Christmas wreaths, bells, pirate ships, mermaids and planets. Even the ridiculous enormous mistletoe sprig that made us all laugh so much at Fred Whittaker’s barn looks good amongst the other lanterns. Jigs and reels bounce and skip from the band at the head of the parade. I see some onlookers breaking into impromptu dances, linking arms with one another and twirling in the streets. It’s as if the whole town has come out to party and it’s breathtaking.
But I can’t take my eyes off Aggie. She looks carefree and happy for the first time in days, nudging Seren and sharing jokes I’m not party to. Has Seth Lannaker brought about this transformation? The thought stings me. But more than anything, Aggie deserves to be happy. If I love her like I think I do, I have to accept that it might not be me who makes her smile like she is now. I have to find a way to live with that.
After the line of lanterns bobs and sways along Fore Street, we head down to the harbour front to join the enormous crowd gathered there. Blazing torches have been stationed high above the harbour wall and every boat moored within is decorated with strings of coloured lights. The horn from the lifeboat station sounds, turning all heads to the harbour entrance. And then Lou’s killer finale takes place: Father Christmas appears on St Ives’ small inshore lifeboat, Donald Dean, roaring in from the sea to the delighted cheers of the crowd. As he hops ashore and walks up to hit the button that will turn on the lights on the huge Christmas tree at the end of the sea wall, the lantern parade moves through the crowd to St Ia’s church, where we carefully lean the lanterns against the ancient honey-stone walls, still glowing.
‘Here.’
I turn to see a bottle of Tribute and follow the arm that offers it to meet Aggie’s face.
‘Where did you . . . ?’
‘I had Garvey from Becca’s Bar sneak them to me as we passed. Bars will be rammed so I figured this was the best way to jump the queues.’
‘Impressive.’ My heart is beating like I’ve run a marathon, not carried a lantern at a leisurely pace through St Ives’ streets.
Aggie nods, but her eyes don’t leave mine. Even in the soft glow from the surrounding lanterns, it’s disconcerting. ‘Seren’s gone to see her dad. First toast to her new job – she promised him.’
‘I heard about the Falmouth thing. Are you okay with that?’
‘I’ll have to be.’ She points the neck of her beer bottle at me. ‘You’ve been a moron.’
I drop my gaze to the frosted path. ‘Yeah, I know . . .’
‘Don’t be a dick again, yeah? Because I need you, Kieran.’
I look up. My mouth goes dry.
‘I need you to be here for me. Seren will be off in January and I’m going to need you to not be an idiot.’
I open my mouth to reply – and I almost tell her. But something stops me. Aggie doesn’t need protestations of love tonight: she needs her friend.
‘And another thing: I never slept with Seth Lannaker, whatever you think. I meant to.’ She groans. ‘Got tanked up enough not to care, went round to his place ready to say yes. But when I went to knock on his door, I couldn’t go through with it.’
I can’t let myself smile, but I want to whoop and dance around the churchyard. She didn’t want him back! She changed her mind. It means I still have a chance . . . ‘I’m sorry, Ag.’
She flops down on the low wall. ‘Want to know what stopped me?’
I sit beside her, taking a swig of ale to steady myself. ‘What?’
She looks at me. ‘You.’
What do I say to that?
‘I remembered something you’d said that night I told Seth it was over and you stayed with me. I’d been sobbin’ on you for hours, totally wrung out of emotion, thinkin’ my life was over. And then you kissed the top of my head and said, “He wasn’t worth a moment of your time. Agatha Keats deserves the best.” And standin’ on his doorstep, blind drunk, I thought, how is this the best for me? The old problems hadn’t gone away. They’d be back as soon as the novelty wore off. And he was never the best anyway, just the best of a bad lot. So – thanks for that.’
And then she leans over and hugs me. I wrap my arms around her, hold her to me. This is okay, I think. This is enough for now.
I still have a chance. I’m still falling for her. But tonight she needs a friend who isn’t a moron. I think I can do that. I will tell her, when the moment is right. But for now, I just hold her in the lantern light, thanking my stars that she needs me . . .