Page 68 of Falling in Love at Pennycress Inn

‘Hmm.’ Nicola watched as a new influx of people walked into the hall, the group splintering off to rush towards family members or to squeeze into chairs next to their friends. And was that Jackson? She frowned as he headed their way. Yes, it was. He wasn’t supposed to be coming.

She watched as he squeezed through the aisle towards them and it was only then that she noticed a spare chair next to Laura, her handbag sitting on top of it. Had she known Jackson was coming after all? Had it all been a ploy to get Nicola out of the house? Did Laura think she’d just rot in her own pity? Umm, to be fair, she probably would have, but she’d have felt more comfortable slumped on her sofa with a box of tissues and an open share bag of crisps on her lap than here in the village hall.

‘Hey.’ Laura lifted her handbag and placed it on the floor as Jackson sat down and kissed her before smiling across at Nicola.

‘Hi, Nic.’

Leaning across, Nicola frowned. ‘I thought you couldn’t make it tonight?’

Confusion swept across Jackson’s face as Laura nudged him. ‘Oh, er, change of plan.’

‘Right.’ Nicola flared her nostrils and slumped back in her chair. Yep, Laura had just wanted to make sure she didn’t hole herself up in her cottage. She relaxed her shoulders. She supposed she shouldn’t be angry with her. She’d probably have done the same if the roles had been reversed. Still, she couldn’t wait for this damn meeting to be over and done with so she could retreat to her sanctuary.

‘Sorry, I just…’ Laura whispered as Miss Cooke took to the stage.

Nicola shook her head. ‘Don’t worry. Thanks for caring.’

Smiling, Laura rubbed Nicola’s forearm before turning her attention to Miss Cooke.

‘Good evening, all, and welcome to this month’s village meeting. Thank you for taking the time to prise yourselves away from your barbecues and whatnots. I know it’s tempting to miss these meetings when we’re blessed with such nice weather.’ She looked pointedly at the few empty chairs.

‘Shocking that people don’t organise their holidays around the village meetings or travel home for a few hours, so they don’t miss them,’ Laura whispered.

Nicola smiled briefly. Miss Cooke had always been the same, having the expectation that all of Meadowfield’s residents should take these meetings as seriously as she did.

‘And what a glorious week we’ve had! Officer Duffey here has an exciting update on Meadowfield’s runaway sheep, Gertrude.’

The inevitable calling out of random names people had attributed to Claudette began and Nicola rolled her eyes. Any other time, this little ritual made her laugh, but tonight she just couldn’t find it in her to find anything amusing.

‘Florence!’

‘Cloudy!’

‘Claudette!’

‘Yes, yes.’ Miss Cooke held her hands up, palms forward, and shushed her audience before stepping away from the lectern and waving Officer Duffey forward.

Clearing his throat, the officer flicked through a small notebook before looking ahead. ‘Good evening. Yes, as Miss Cooke has mentioned, we have an interesting update on the missing sheep case.’

‘What’s that then?’ Neil Parsons called out from the front row. ‘Have you caught her?’

‘Er, no. The sheep has not yet been taken into custody…’

Nicola heard Laura stifle a laugh, whereas Jackson, not as quick to think to cover his mouth, tried to turn his chuckle into a cough.

‘…But we do have it on good authority that the sightings have decreased considerably.’ He flicked through his notebook again. ‘In fact, over the past two weeks, we have not had one sighting at all.’

‘Has she gone?’

‘Does that mean I can plant out my begonias now, then?’ Mrs Pierce asked.

‘I do believe she may well have moved on. Of her own accord.’ Officer Duffey closed his notebook and nodded towards Miss Cooke, who stepped forward again.

‘Fantastic news. Thank you, Officer Duffey. I’m sure the whole village will join me in congratulating you on a well-deserved victory on your part.’

Nicola sniggered. It was just as Charlie had predicted. He’d said that the villagers would believe Claudette had left the vicinity and yet she was only up the road at his farm. She slumped her shoulders as a wave of sadness washed over her. If only he’d been here to witness his predictions coming true, to watch as Miss Cooke and the local police force took the credit for the lull in Claudette’s destructive activity.

She swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. If he was here, he’d be laughing right about now. And she would be too. Heck, he’d probably stand up and correct them. Tell them how it was. She wasn’t going to get over this, was she? How was she supposed to just get on with her life as though nothing had happened when, all around her, the memories she’d made with him were lurking?

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