Christmas for Beginners - Carole Matthews Page 0,27

with the Christmas lights. He’d like to do something more permanent. Better than that, he’s got a farming background.’

‘Praise the Lord and all that’s holy,’ she says. ‘We need someone else on our board with a bit of clout now that Shelby is more absent than present.’ She raises her eyebrows at me.

‘I’m not sure what else I can do on that front.’

‘We’ll work on it,’ she promises. ‘But, for now, you can get that big spoon and start dishing up beans or we’ll be here all afternoon.’

Immediately, the mayor jumps up and comes to lend a hand, giving out plates to the students and cracking jokes. He has a natural way with him and it’s a wonder that he hasn’t got kids. He’d make a great dad. When he sits down again next to Lucas, he even manages to engage him in conversation and, as you know, that’s no mean feat. At one point he even makes Lucas laugh out loud and both Bev and I exchange a startled glance. I wonder what on earth he’s said to elicit that response.

I take my lunch and go to join them. ‘Isn’t it nice that the mayor has agreed to join us for our open day and turn on the Christmas lights?’

‘I thought you-know-who was doing that?’ Lucas says.

‘Your dad can’t guarantee making it,’ I tell him.

‘Who’s your dad?’ the mayor asks.

Lucas shoots me a filthy look, but he brought it up.

‘My partner, Shelby, is an actor in a soap opera,’ I explain. ‘We have, in the past, tended to rely on him for this kind of thing.’

‘Shelby Dacre?’

‘Yes, you know of him?’

‘Who doesn’t?’ the mayor says. ‘I don’t watch it myself but my mum is a huge fan of Flinton’s Farm.’

‘That is hil-ar-ious,’ Lucas says. ‘My father likes to think his fan base is nubile nineteen-year-olds. Most of his girlfriends have been.’

That stings and, to deflect the direction of the conversation, I interject, ‘Did Lucas tell you that he’s writing some poetry for the nativity?’

‘No,’ the mayor says. ‘You’re a poet? What a great talent.’

I get another death-stare for my trouble.

‘He is very talented,’ I add, defiantly. I’m hoping that Lucas will make a start on his contribution soon as that will be one less thing for me to worry about.

‘I’m a big fan of poetry,’ Matt tells us. ‘Who’s your favourite?’

Lucas seems startled by his response. ‘Er . . . you won’t have heard of him . . . Harry Baker.’

‘He’s great,’ Matt says. ‘My favourite is “A Love Poem for Lonely Prime Numbers”.’

‘Seriously? You really know his stuff?’ Lucas, rather grudgingly, looks impressed. ‘I like “The Sunshine Kid” and “Paper People”.’

‘I follow him on YouTube and have listened to his TED Talk a dozen times. I haven’t seen him live, have you?’

‘No, but I’d like to,’ Lucas admits.

‘I think he’s doing a tour next year. I should try to get tickets for us all.’

‘Yeah, well . . .’ Lucas glares at me as if I’m the orchestrator of this unexpected burst of enthusiasm.

It’s sad, but I know that part of his reticence is that he’s been let down too many times in the past. Things that Shelby has promised that he hasn’t delivered, times he’s cancelled due to filming schedules. I can see that Lucas can’t let himself trust Matt’s promises. I understand that.

‘That would be great,’ I say to Matt. ‘You’ll hear some of Lucas’s poetry at Christmas.’

‘If I do it,’ Lucas says, trying to sound uninterested. But I’m not fooled and neither is our mayor. Behind Lucas’s back, I give the thumbs-up to Matt. ‘A’ for effort.

When we’ve finished our lunch, Lucas and our crafts teacher, Anna, take the students out for a brief walk round the yard while we get the room ready for this afternoon’s card-making session. As soon as they’re wrapped up against the cold and out of the way, the mayor helps us to clear up and proves himself a dab hand with a tea towel. Bev’s looking at him in a slightly dreamy way. If she weren’t so smitten with Alan, I think she’d be in deep.

She sidles up next to me and whispers. ‘Nothing turns me on more than the sight of a strong man with a tea towel in his hand.’

That makes me laugh and the mayor turns to smile at us both.

When Matt’s completed his chores, he puts down the tea towel and says, ‘I need to go. I’ve got to cut the ribbon at a new playgroup