The Country Escape - Jane Lovering Page 0,56

mesh and a little bit of blood. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Yep, native knowledge. Only works on very small cuts, of course. If you lop your leg off then it’s not much use. Unless you’ve got Shelob living in your basement. Shelob. Huge great spider from The Lord of the Rings?’ He seemed mystified at my puzzled expression. ‘Blimey, and I thought I needed to get out more.’

In the bedroom he’d made a start on one of the pumpkin faces. ‘You did all this while I was downstairs?’

‘Er, yes. I tried to persuade the fairies to do it, but they weren’t having it. Why?’

He’d started carving out a copy of the Scream face. It already looked amazing, and backlit with a candle or torch it was going to be incredible. I stared at it for a moment, then over at my wonky-eyed, gap-toothed primary-school attempts. ‘Gabriel,’ I said slowly, ‘you are wonderful.’

‘I have my moments.’ He didn’t turn round, he just kept his head down, bent over the pumpkin.

I remembered Granny Mary saying that he was halfway to being in love with me. His back view and dismissive words didn’t lend much credence to that. And then I remembered what else she’d said. That in order to let him in, I’d need to tell him about myself. About my past.

‘I’m just going to check on the crew.’ I put my mug, the corer and peeler down beside him. ‘They might need… err… something.’

Without waiting for him to reply, I fled back down the stairs again, pulled my big coat from the hook in the hallway and opened the kitchen door to the wall of rain.

Granny Mary was sitting complacently inside the van in the lay-by, with the top half of the door open and her face sort of thrust through the gap, watching her pony being led in and out of the gateway, while Keenan and a cameraman who looked soggy and disgruntled moved around.

‘Okay, I think that’s it,’ Keenan said, pulling his hat off and running a hand through damp hair. ‘I’ll go through the shots. There’s bound to be something in there we can use.’

The man who was pretending to be the man who was acting the serial killer, because the actor was off doing his documentary and needed a stand-in, gave a sigh and let go of Patrick’s bridle. The equipment men hurried to pack up the various bits and pieces and coil cables, while Patrick, currently half in the gateway, rested a hoof and let his head droop. He looked bored and wet, despite continuity’s best efforts at keeping him dry.

Horse wrangler started untacking, while Keenan debriefed his squad and I went over to see Mary.

‘Where’s Gabriel gone?’ She poked her head through the window to peer out at me.

‘He’s upstairs, carving a pumpkin.’ I jerked my head towards the bedroom window. The light was on in the room, spilling down into the garden and highlighting the rain sheeting onto the bushes.

‘Got him in your bedroom already?’ Mary let out a laugh that sounded like an involuntary spasm. ‘That’s promising.’

I refused to rise to her bait. ‘This weather is dreadful, isn’t it?’ I hoped she wasn’t going to agree and ask to move into the cottage, but then her van was probably warmer and drier.

‘Forecast to carry on too. We’ve got gales coming in from the west and they’re talking about moving the Halloween fair into the tourist office so it doesn’t get washed away.’ Mary settled her arms on the ledge, the eaves of the van keeping her dry. ‘Going to be a right storm.’

I instantly thought about Poppy walking around Steepleton with the waves lashing up over the sea wall, teenagers larking about, people being swept into the sea, and wondered if I could persuade her to only go for the disco being safely held in the village hall. I leaned against the side of the van as my legs went weak.

‘It…’ I started, but didn’t know how to go on. Mary wasn’t a person I’d choose to go to for reassurance. ‘Patrick did well, didn’t he?’ I settled on the most non-controversial topic I could think of. ‘He’s going to be a real star when this goes out.’

‘He’s a good lad. Nice and steady.’ Mary eyeballed me again. ‘And they’ve filmed the van too – going to be inundated with offers to buy it, Keenan reckons.’

‘Would you sell?’ I mentally ran through her options. Wonderful though the caravan was, it wouldn’t raise enough money to