A Perfect Cornish Escape by Phillipa Ashley Page 0,36

before she brightened. ‘Um …’ she said, ‘it’s going better than I’d hoped. We should hit our fundraising target, with a bit of luck. Thanks for all your hard work.’

‘Thank me after it’s all over and someone has bid for me,’ she said.

Marina grinned. ‘Oh, they will. You’ll cause a sensation, I’m sure.’

The rap of the gavel drew their attention. ‘So, that’s a Christmas turkey sold to the Smuggler’s Tavern for fifty pounds.’ Evie looked at her clipboard. ‘Next lot. A bikini waxing session kindly donated by The House of Payne.’

‘Oh my God,’ Tiff muttered as the crowd erupted with laughter. ‘I still don’t know why for the love of God anyone would call a beauty salon that!’

‘Because it’s run by the Payne family?’ Marina said innocently.

Tiff rolled her eyes. ‘This place is nuts … I’m nuts. Oh God, it’s almost time.’

Marina laughed. ‘You’ll be fine,’ she said yet again, but Tiff’s heart was hammering like she’d run the hundred metres, leaving Usain Bolt in her wake. Come to think of it, there was still time to do that … Her phone beeped. She scanned the message and a grin spread over her face, followed by a groan and a mutter. ‘Now you bloody tell me!’

Cursing, she grabbed her notebook from her bag, scribbled a message and handed the torn-out page to Evie while the ‘winner’ of the waxing session collected his voucher. Evie frowned then nodded.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, we have an additional lot, courtesy of Tiff Trescott and it’s for you music fans. She has managed to get hold of two tickets to the sold-out Ed Sheeran gig at the Eden project – with VIP backstage passes.’

An excited buzz rippled through the crowd, making the hairs on the back of Tiff’s neck stand on end.

Evie raced off-piste, clapping her hands together in excitement. ‘But first I have an even better prize. Our very own Tiffany has offered the ultimate auction lot. Ladies and gentlemen: Tiff has offered herself as star prize.’

‘No!’ Tiff squeaked. Evie had misread the note. The Ed Sheeran tickets were meant to replace her as the main lot. She thought of scribbling another note to Evie or leaping on the dais to grab her, but it was far too late and would only attract everyone’s attention. Holy Mary, why had she even offered the auction lot …?! If only she hadn’t been so desperate to prove Dirk wrong.

There was silence, followed by confused murmurings then bursts of laughter. Tiff felt eyes lasering into her back, and a stage whisper: ‘Oh my God. Is it her?’ a woman said.

‘That posh redhead from London,’ another replied within Tiff’s hearing. ‘Something funny there.’

I am actually bloody here, Tiff wanted to shout, but tried to fix a smile on her face.

‘Come up, my dear,’ Evie called. ‘Don’t be shy.’

Tiff wished she could magically vanish in a puff of smoke, but it seemed her only special power was making a massive tit of herself. She shook her head at Evie, but Evie smiled.

‘Come on, let all these lovely people see what they could be getting.’

‘You have to go.’ Marina gave her a little push in the small of her back. ‘Knock ’em dead. I think you’re amazing.’

People either side of her moved away slightly and Tiff found herself in a tiny gap in front of the stage. Somehow, she contorted her face into a grin and lifted a hand in a wave, before dragging her feet the two steps onto the dais.

‘A big welcome to our star lot: Tiffany Trescott!’ Evie cried, and a smattering of applause rippled through the audience, accompanied by a few whistles. ‘Now, Tiffany has offered to spend a day at your beck and call. She says she’ll do anything within reason: gardening, housework, shopping, DIY, cooking, chauffeuring, pet sitting … you name it.’

Tiffany cringed. She could whip up an omelette and change a plug, but she’d never had a pet in her life, and as for gardening – planting the tubs had been at the edge of her skills. She could write up a storm, of course, and knew her Latin declensions, and she was pretty good at shopping … and if you wanted her to find out someone’s deepest secrets or stir up trouble then she was red hot at that … but none of that was probably much use in Porthmellow. In fact, she really wondered what use anyone here could find for her. She’d never felt so exposed in her