Chapter Nine
Kieran
There are four of us standing in Fred Whittaker’s barn in the tiny hamlet of Towednack – me, Aggie, Seren and Cerrie. Five, if you count Fred, who is trying his best to blend into the barn walls. Lou hasn’t arrived yet, which is probably for the best. It’s going to take a while for us to find something positive here.
I don’t know if Lou’s seen how far behind the lantern committee really were, or if he is in for the same shock we are all experiencing now. Twisted willow withy canes that should already be fixed together to make the skeletons of the giant structures are mostly bound in piles resting on the hay-strewn dusty floor between Fred Whittaker’s prized collection of tractors. The parachute silk isn’t even cut for stretching over the lantern bodies. It’s a total mess. I hope Lou isn’t in danger from increased stress.
‘Are there even any instructions for putting these together?’ Aggie barks at nobody in particular, although I notice Fred retreating further into the shadows.
‘We have to hope Lou was given that information when the other workers left,’ I say. ‘Otherwise we might as well accept defeat right now.’
Seren inspects the few pieces of coloured silk that have been cut. ‘Let’s hope so.’
‘The finished ones are in the back,’ Fred ventures, already halfway out of the door. ‘Should I bring them in?’
Thank heaven for that! ‘Great, shall we follow you round?’ I suggest. ‘No point lugging them in here just to haul them back again.’
We follow Fred out of the main barn door and into a smaller outbuilding across the farmyard. He hits a switch and the lights bang and shudder into life. It’s the strangest sight – huge, multicoloured hulks in different shapes eerily huddled together, like a dormant alien army awaiting deployment. I count at least twenty.
‘This is better,’ Aggie says beside me. ‘I thought we were goin’ to have to go the full Blue Peter.’ She grins up at me – and there it is again. That flicker of – something I shouldn’t pay attention to.
‘Why don’t we take a couple of these back to the barn?’ Cerrie suggests, ever the practical one. ‘Then we’ll have a reference for making the others.’
Agreed, we carefully take two of the lanterns – a mermaid with blue silk stars around her head and a lighthouse with green and orange fish at its base. They are surprisingly light for their size, although manoeuvring them through the door of the outbuilding and into the main barn is trickier than we think. The poor mermaid almost loses her head when Aggie and Seren misjudge the doorway.
We are inspecting the lanterns when Lou arrives in a cloud of bluster and nerves. ‘Kids! Glad you’re here. I’ve good news – two of the lantern team have said they’ll come back. And Christine from Hettie’s is drivin’ up later with Charlotte and Georgie. So that’s . . .’ he does a head count with the edge of his clipboard, ‘one-two-three-four-five . . .’
‘Not enough,’ I say.
‘It’s what we have, boy.’
‘Then we need more.’
Lou faces me like a Wild West gunslinger with a clipboard and middle-aged spread. ‘So what are you goin’ to do ’bout it, hmm?’
Aggie, Cerrie, Seren and Fred turn to me. There’s only one thing I can suggest. ‘Social media. Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, Snapchat . . . We put out a call – right now – and ask people to share it with their friends.’
‘You’re the only one with a gazillion followers,’ Cerrie says. ‘I’m not sure the twenty-nine people who follow my Insta-feed will be able to do much.’
‘They will if they all turn up,’ Seren says. ‘I think Kieran’s right. Everyone, mobiles out now.’
We do as she says, groaning as one when we discover none of us has any signal.
‘The joys of rural Kernow.’ Cerrie holds her phone up towards the corrugated-iron barn roof as if this might summon a stray patch of reception.
‘When we get home tonight, then,’ Aggie says.
There’s a nervous cough from the back of the barn and Fred raises a hesitant hand. ‘No panic, I got Wi-Fi, kids. Hang on a mo and I’ll grab the code.’
‘Fred Whittaker, tech expert,’ Seren chuckles. ‘Who knew?’
Half an hour later the call is out and we are sitting on a stack of hay bales with large mugs of tea and thick squares of fruitcake provided by Martha, Fred’s wife, going over the designs Lou brought. They look simple, in a complicated way. But the construction seems easy enough.
‘John Matterson said they’d had one team makin’ the frames and another stretchin’ the cloth over, but I’m guessin’ our best bet is to make each one from start to finish, so we can keep track of ’em all. Pippa and Justine from the original team will know how that’s done, so when we come again tomorrow night we can get crackin’ proper.’
My mobile vibrates in my hand and the notification makes my heart jump. ‘First volunteer right here.’
‘That was fast.’ Aggie’s eyes narrow. ‘I bet it’s a woman.’
‘It is.’
‘Behold the power of our sexy photographer,’ she laughs. And I have to force a laugh back because I know she doesn’t mean it in the way my stupid brain wants her to.
‘Kieran Macklin, our resident Insta-celebrity,’ Cerrie says. ‘Think of all those ladies around the world who hang on your every post . . .’
‘People like nice photos,’ I shrug. ‘It’s what I do. You all take good ones, too.’
‘Not worthy of the Holy Grail Blue Tick, though.’
‘I have no clue what you’re all on about,’ Lou says. ‘But you can be as social on that media as you like if Kieran’s ticks get people up here this week.’
‘Ticks? I got some dip for that,’ Fred ventures, frowning when we fall about laughing.
I’m on my way out to my car when I hear voices near the outbuilding where the finished lanterns are being stored. I don’t know why, but I stop to listen, the shadow between the farm buildings shielding me from view.
‘. . . So he asked me to take him back.’
‘Ag! No! What did you say?’
‘What could I say? It’s Seth bleddy Lannaker.’
‘He broke your heart last time.’
A puff of peach-scented vape smoke catches the light from the barn as it billows towards me. I flatten my back against the ancient stone.
‘I know, I know. But he came back, Ser. And I thought I was over him, but . . . Turns out I’m not.’
‘Did you . . . ? Oh Ag, you didn’t?’
I don’t want to hear any more. I can guess the rest. I remember the fallout when Aggie split with the conniving surfer three years ago: how she sobbed in my arms through the night after she’d told him to go; how for months we all feared the flame inside our beloved Aggie Keats had been permanently snuffed out. How we steadily built her back up, painstakingly reconstructing the heart smashed by that idiot. Back then, I was angry with him for hurting my friend. But now, him waltzing back onto the scene is a challenge to my place in her affections.
I leave Towednack without saying goodbye. I just couldn’t face Aggie and Seren knowing what I know. I feel like if she saw me tonight, she’d guess it all. Because I’ve tried to tell myself it could never happen, but I can’t shake the question of what would happen if it did. Of course, if Seth Lannaker is back, the deal is already done. This whole thing is pointless.
It’s a blow, but I’ll get over it. Somehow. She’s still my friend, and that’s what matters most. I just wish my heart agreed . . .