Page 25 of Hope and Happiness in Bluebell Wood
‘Flown the nest, have they?’ Mrs Bunting says pragmatically. ‘I remember when my two left home, I was bereft for weeks I was; Mr Bunting said he’d never heard me so quiet.’
‘Golly, you must have been bad!’ Jonah says, turning quickly to wink at me.
I grin back at him, but Mrs Bunting isn’t perturbed.
‘There’s lots of activities here in Bluebell Wood if you’re feeling lonely, dear,’ she continues. ‘We’ve a lovely WI that meets on the first Wednesday of the month. There’s a little Friendship group that meets at the village hall on a Friday morning – you might be a bit young for that, though . . . ’ she says, looking me up and down. ‘We’ve a local history group, and exercise classes too. Also—’
‘I’m fine, really,’ I try, but stopping Mrs Bunting when she’s in full flow is like trying to hold back a tsunami.
‘Our village hall is where it all happens,’ she continues. ‘Although,’ she looks accusingly at Jonah, ‘it’s seen better days.’
‘I don’t know why you’re looking at me, Mrs Bunting,’ Jonah protests. ‘We’re trying our best.’
‘The village hall is part of the church,’ she explains. ‘They’re responsible for its upkeep.’
‘Like I said, Callum and I are doing our best to raise funds to refurbish it.’ He turns to me again. ‘It’s not easy; we also have a problem with the church roof, which is in need of repair, so it’s difficult to know where to begin when it comes to distributing the little funds we might raise.’
I try to nod sympathetically.
‘Talking of fundraising, can you bake, dear?’ Mrs Bunting suddenly asks. ‘We’ve got a fundraising bake sale at the church this Saturday. You’d meet lots of the villagers if you came. We always get a lovely turnout to our bake sales.’
‘No,’ I say, vigorously shaking my head. ‘No, really – I’m a terrible baker.’
‘Ah . . . ’ For the first time, Mrs Bunting looks a little deflated. ‘That’s a real shame. Evelyn was a wonderful baker. She always made us lots of lovely cakes for our sales.’
‘I’m sure she was,’ I agree. ‘I’ve seen all the equipment in her kitchen, but it’s not for me.’
‘Hmm, well, let me think . . . ’ Mrs Bunting is clearly not a quitter. ‘There must be something . . . ’
‘Sorry,’ Jonah mouths silently.
‘It’s fine,’ I mouth back. ‘Perhaps I could just pay?’ I ask Gavin hopefully.
I might just be able to escape without being coerced into one of the village’s many societies then.
‘Of course,’ Gavin says knowingly. While Mrs Bunting hasbeen desperately trying to set me up with a village social life, Gavin has been quietly totalling up my basket. ‘That’ll be £24.62, please.’
I reach for my purse, but nearly drop it as Mrs Bunting suddenly cries, ‘Ooh!’
I turn back to her with trepidation.
‘Are you any good at quizzes, dear?’ she asks keenly.
‘Quizzes?’ I repeat.
‘Yes, we have a church quiz team here – don’t we, Father? Evelyn was one of our founder members, so we’re one member short now she’s gone, and correct me if I’m wrong, but doesn’t the new season start soon?’ She looks at Jonah.
‘Yes, it does. But we’re actually two short. Eileen has gone to live with her daughter in Devon now, hasn’t she?’
‘So she has, to help look after the triplets – I totally forgot. Her daughter had triplets,’ she tells me. ‘Can’t cope on her own, the father is away in the army.’ She nods knowingly.
‘But even so, I really don’t think that Ava should be pressurised into joining, Mrs Bunting,’ Jonah says, to my immense relief. ‘It’s a pub quiz league we’re in,’ he says as an aside to me. ‘It just so happens that a lot of our team are also a part of our church.’
My ears prick up immediately. ‘I see. Who is in your team?’ I ask casually.
I really shouldn’t care if Callum is in the team.
But I do.
