Page 25 of Fireworks at Pennycress Inn
‘Welcome, welcome. It’s nice to see another new face. Who might we have here?’
‘Hi, I’m Polly. I’m staying at Pennycress Inn.’ Polly gritted her teeth as the woman shook her hand with more gusto than necessary.
‘Polly, this is Miss Cooke, Meadowfield’s esteemed mayoress.’ Laura waved her hand between Polly and Miss Cooke. ‘Polly is staying with us for a few months and hoping to settle here, so I thought it would be nice for her to get to know the village a little better.’
‘Ah, I take it you’re also working at the reserve? Lovely. The more the merrier. Come on through.’ Miss Cooke dropped her hand and waved her into the hall.
That answered that question then. Zac must already be inside. How else would Miss Cooke have known Polly was working at the reserve?
Pausing just past the doors, Laura stood on her tiptoes and scanned the large hall. ‘There they are. Over there.’
Following Laura, Polly weaved her way through the throng of people heading down the large aisle between chairs towards the back of the vast stone building. It seemed like a sweet tradition, having a village meeting. There had been nothing like that where she’d grown up. Yes, her grandparents had known almost everyone in their block of flats and in the street and her grandma had taken Polly along to her WI meetings a few times, but apart from chatting in the street or popping round friends’ homes for a natter over a cuppa there hadn’t been any organised events within the community such as this. And people were turning in their seats, smiling at each other, chatting in groups. It was nice.
‘Hold on. I’m just waiting for Charlie.’ Nicola stood up from her chair at the end of the aisle and ushered Polly through. ‘You go first.’
‘Where’s Jackson?’ Laura glanced around.
‘Ha, Miss Cooke has roped him into helping with the microphone or something.’ Nicola shrugged. ‘There was some drama as we came in and she kidnapped him. Wrong place and wrong time for him, I’m afraid.’
‘Oh.’ Laura twisted to look behind her and waved towards the stage as Jackson struggled with a large box. ‘Oops, that’ll be him tied up all meeting then. Go on, Polly, you go first.’
16
Polly squeezed along the row of chairs, her heart sinking as she realised she was going to be sitting next to Zac. She’d spent enough time beside him at work and now it looked as though she’d be right beside him for the next hour or however long these village meetings usually took. At least at work she had the wastepaper bin to separate their desks, here the chairs were so close together that physical contact was likely to be unavoidable. Slipping her tote bag from her shoulder, she perched on the chair, her bag on her lap. ‘Hello again.’
‘Evening.’ Zac nodded before turning back to the front, his eyes following Jackson as he continued to shift boxes around the stage.
‘You could always go and offer to help him.’ Biting her tongue, she refrained from adding ‘because you look as though you want to be anywhere besides sitting next to me’ and instead plonked her bag on the floor and kicked it under the seat. Inching it further back, she cursed under her breath at the familiar tinkly sound of her metal water bottle as it once again escaped the confines of her bag. And yep, there was the rolling sound. Great. Leaning forward, she looked between her legs and, sure enough, there it was sitting smack bang in the middle of the floor beneath her chair. There was no way she’d be able to reach it like this. Scooting off the edge of the chair, she dropped to her knees at precisely the same time as Zac knelt down, coming forehead to forehead with him. ‘Ouch!’
‘Sorry. Let me.’ Waiting until she’d stood up and to the side, Zac reached beneath her chair and retrieved her bottle, holding it aloft in much the same way as she had always envisaged him receiving trophies as the college football hero or some such.
‘Great. Thanks.’ Taking the bottle, her fingers swept across his, causing him to snatch his hand back so quickly that if it wasn’t for the fact Polly shot her other hand out, the bottle would have ended up crashing to the floor once again. As soon as he’d sat back in his seat, she sank back on hers, inching her chair across the hardwood floor as far away from him as she could. Why had he reacted so dramatically to their fingers touching? Was she that repulsive that he thought he’d catch something from merely brushing her skin? Huh, he hadn’t been so worried about that at her leaving party.
‘Finally, he’s dismissed.’ Laura laughed as she shimmied her way down the row of chairs, Jackson following closely behind, a frazzled expression fixed to his face. ‘Quick, sit down and hide before she realises she needs you for something else.’ Placing her hand on his shoulder, Laura gently guided him into his chair.
‘Haha, I don’t need to be told twice.’ Sitting down, Jackson slumped against the back of his chair and slid his legs forward, ducking his head down out of view behind the people in front.
Polly watched as people stopped talking, and a hushed silence filled the hall. She glanced across at Zac, whose gaze was fixed on Miss Cooke as she took to the stage. She understood it now. After all these months wondering what she’d done to wrong him, she understood. He just didn’t like her. Not like that. Or in any way, it seemed. The kiss had been a mistake, which, yes; it had been, she agreed. Everyone knew that relationships at work weren’t such a good idea. Fair enough. But it wasn’t just that. He’d changed the way he acted around her and just now she could have sworn he’d have rather had the floor swallow him whole than have to endure a moment’s touch from her. No, it all made sense. He’d done all of this to make sure she hadn’t got the wrong impression from that kiss.
‘Where’s Charlie? He promised he’d come.’ Leaning forward in her chair, Nicola whispered along the line. ‘I don’t want to endure this by myself.’
‘There he is,’ Laura stage-whispered back as she pointed towards the door of the village hall.
‘Fingers crossed he isn’t noticed.’ Nicola grimaced.
‘Our lovely mayoress loves Charlie. If anyone can get away with being late, it’s him.’ Jackson chuckled quietly as everyone’s eyes moved to the creaking door as Charlie tried and failed to slip inside without being spotted.
‘Ah, Charlie, you’re here. Come on in and pop yourself in a chair.’ Miss Cooke smiled brightly as Charlie muttered an apology and half walked, half ran down the aisle towards them.
‘Told you.’ Jackson spoke a little too loudly and tried to cover his words with a cough.
Polly smiled despite herself. She could picture herself living here, finding a place of her own, feeling at home. The people she’d met in such a short space of time were already beginning to feel like friends and the community feel of Meadowfield was obvious.
If only she didn’t have to endure Zac’s awkwardness at work. She crossed her arms, her bottle still clasped tightly in one hand. Still, she wasn’t going to allow herself to focus on him and his weird ways. No, instead she was going to focus on the fact Declan had promised her she still stood a chance at winning the promotion. That was why she was here, and that’s what she needed to remember. She wasn’t here to try to decipher Zac Sinclair’s thought patterns. She was here for her and for her chance at a fresh start. Everything else she needed to put out of her mind. To push it out of her mind, the house (or building) and the universe, as her grandma had always told her to do when she awoke from a particularly awful nightmare.
‘…So please welcome our newcomers, Zac and Polly.’ Miss Cooke clapped her hands once as she located them both in her audience.
‘Oh, umm…’ She should have been listening. Was she expected to say something? Had she asked them a question?
