Kam, Gina thought, smiling to herself, as she took four plates from the dish-rack and spread the portions of fish and chips onto the plates and set the industrial-sized microwave, was pretty damn amazing.
And tonight, they’d be together at the village hall. Talking.
‘Oh, dear,’ she said to herself as she watched the microwave’s timer on countdown. ‘Gina – stop it right now. He’s stunning and he knows it. You are on a very slippery slope.’
Somehow, she didn’t seem
to be listening.
Nook Green appeared deceptively tranquil. Twilight; still and warm; dusk sweeping across the chocolate-box scene in gentle shades of lilac and dove grey; a few lamps glowing in cottage windows; the air filled with the scents of stocks and honeysuckle; bats and moths giving spectacular ghostly aerial displays; several shadowy figures walking dogs on the green or sitting beneath the trees beside the Nook; fragments of laughter floating from the drinkers in the pub’s beer garden.
A perfect summer’s evening in a rural idyll.
Almost.
In the Old Curiosity Shop, Doug, having
been very recently relieved of the Indian gods and goddesses by Nalisha, and having spent most of the afternoon and evening hauling everything back into place in the shop, sat exhausted and forlorn.
He slumped in the rocking chair in the darkness, and thought miserably there was nothing worse than being alone on a Saturday night when the whole world was out there partying somewhere, that despite Nalisha paying him, he’d made a complete financial balls-up with the Indian statues, and also that, after his exertions, he was probably going to collapse and no one would find him for hours until it was far, far too late.
In the Merry Cobbler, Sam, left in charge of the late shift with Part-time Pearl who was now convinced she might have a touch of beriberi and might pass out at any minute, thought longingly of his cottage and his comfy chair and a cheese and pickle sandwich and a glass of stout in front of the late-night telly film. He couldn’t wait for the clock to tick round to last orders and eyed the lingering customers with deep, deep loathing.
In the vet’s surgery, Bella administered an already-much-improved Milo’s night-time medication, was rewarded by a slobbery kiss and a madly wagging tail, and wondered sadly when it was going to be the right time to tell her current man – waiting impatiently upstairs for her in her flat – that he, like so many others before him, was no longer her Mr Darcy and therefore he might as well get out of her bed, get dressed and go home.
In the village hall, a very mixed bag, including
Nalisha, Gina, Kam, Sophie, Callum, Callum’s dad because he owned several vehicles, a few of the Nook Green yoof, and the entirety of the Yee-Hawers – all having been three-line whipped by Dora Wilberforce – puffed and sweated as they manhandled the last of the Indian gods and goddesses from the back of various vans and pick-ups.
Panting, groaning, straightening out aching limbs, they smirked about the deal Nalisha had done with Doug Boswell, and hoped loudly that the statues would all fit inside the village hall.
Kam and Gina, taking a breather before the next stage of rehoming the gods and goddesses, and inspired by the awesome presence of the Lords Krishna and Vishnu and the rest, were now huddled in a corner also hatching a rather devious little plan of their own.
And in Jay’s cottage, Jay and Erin were having a row.
They hadn’t discussed the
mandap
since leaving the Swan. They’d decided, over a meal at the new Italian restaurant in nearby Daisy Bank, that discussing the
mandap
could wait until they got home.
Which it had. And now they were.
‘No.’ Erin paced up and down Jay’s snug living room, her ponytail swinging furiously from side to side. ‘It’s got to go back. Seriously, Jay. We can’t use it, we certainly don’t need it, and we definitely don’t want it.’
Jay, sitting on the edge of the deep-cushioned sofa in the dusk, ran his hands through his hair. ‘I know, and I completely agreed with you before I knew it had been sent by my parents. Now, they’ll be so hurt if we return it.’
‘Then they shouldn’t have sent it in the first place. I don’t want to hurt them, insult them – whatever – either, but they should have asked us first.’
‘They obviously wanted it to be a surprise. Look, I
was thinking, maybe we could rearrange the dining room for the reception. It’s a huge room. We could erect the
mandap
at one end and then –’
‘No!’ Erin sighed. ‘I. Don’t. Want. It. And if that sounds petty and childish and self-centred, then so be it. We’ve planned how the dining room is going to look – we’ve got everything organised, chosen the decorations, everything – and we need space for the evening reception as well. We need the dance floor and, well, the other things. There simply isn’t room for the
mandap
. Please, just tell them thank you, but it doesn’t fit in with our plans, and hopefully they can return it and recoup their money.’
‘It’ll have cost them a fortune.’
Erin stopped pacing. ‘I know that, Jay. I’m not stupid. It’s huge and beautiful, so that’s very obvious. And I don’t want to sound rude, but that’s not our problem, is it? We couldn’t have made it clearer that our wedding was fusion, secular, and already planned. Actually, I’m pretty insulted that your parents just assumed they could ride roughshod over everything we’ve planned. Both of us. Not just me. Or is it just me?’
‘Is what just you?’
‘The fusion ceremony? I’m not forcing you into a wedding you don’t want, am I?’
Jay sighed and leaned back amongst the pile of sofa cushions. ‘Of course not. You know that. But I really don’t want to insult, upset or dishonour my parents in any way.’
Erin counted to ten. ‘I know all that. I understand all that. But what about me? Is it OK to upset me?’
‘Of course not.’ Jay rubbed his eyes. ‘You know I’d never ever make you unhappy, but please try to understand my position.’
Erin sighed, walked over to the window
and leaned her hands on the sill, staring out across the twilight garden. She hated arguing with Jay. He was always so laid-back, so easygoing, that they rarely disagreed about anything major. Yes, of course they’d had rows, like every couple, but they were few and far between, and usually brief and ended in hugs, kisses and laughter.
But this was different. This should be the happiest time of their life. This morning she’d known it was, and now, thanks again to his bloody family, it clearly wasn’t.
‘I do understand.’ Erin continued to stare out at the garden even though she couldn’t see it. ‘I understand that you’re having to choose between your parents and me. No, don’t say anything. I don’t mean that in some sort of threatening way. I mean, one of us is going to be upset over this damn
mandap
– and the rest of the Indian stuff – and it’s easier for you if it’s me, isn’t it?’
Jay laughed. It didn’t sound very funny. ‘Strangulated syntax, but I think I get your drift. And yes, OK, I suppose so. Because you’re here, and you’re far more reasonable, and because we can discuss it.’
‘We’re not discussing it, though, are we?’ Erin didn’t turn round. ‘There’s nothing to discuss. We’re just going round and round in damn circles. You know, as well as I do, that whatever intentions your parents had for sending the bloody
mandap
, we are not going to use it.’
‘I love my parents. I don’t want to hurt them.’
‘Oh, God,’ Erin sighed. ‘I
know
. It’s one of the reasons I love you so much. All this honour and respect and decency and cherishing your elders – all stuff that seems to have been lost from our culture – but this isn’t about being disrespectful, Jay. This is about being sensible. And about standing up for me. I want you to stand up for me.’
‘I’ll always stand up for you,’ Jay said quickly. ‘Although you rarely seem to need it. You’re perfectly capable of fighting your own battles. Oh, look, maybe if we went up to Solihull tomorrow and saw Mum and Dad and talked to them face to face, it would be easier.’
‘No it wouldn’t. They’d
just be lovely, and charming, and delicately upset, and I’d feel like a complete cow and you’d turn into the dutiful son, and then we’d both give in. We’d end up compromising and having things that neither of us want. Jay, either you ring them and explain to them about taking back the
mandap
, or I will.’
‘I don’t think that would be such a great idea, either.’ Jay frowned. ‘Look can we leave it for tonight, it’s getting late and –’
The phone on the small coffee table beside the sofa rang loudly.
Both Jay and Erin, used to hearing only their mobiles, stared at the landline with some astonishment.
Jay leaned across and lifted the receiver. ‘Yes? Oh God, is it? Sorry, Bella. Yes, I’m home now. I’ll switch it on. No, I haven’t been drinking so I’m fine to drive. Will I need the pick-up? Oh, Kam’s got it anyway – OK. And is Kam still on call too? Great – get hold of him then please, and tell him to pick me up at the cottage. I’ll just go and grab my kit.’
‘Emergency?’ Erin asked.
Jay nodded, already on his feet, pulling his phone from his pocket. ‘Yes. Bella was trying to ring me on my mobile but it’s been switched off. I hadn’t switched it back on since we were with Abbie.’
Erin smiled. ‘Just go and sort out whatever the emergency is.’
‘Picton’s Farm, apparently according to Bella. Cattle. Needs two of us. I’ll just go and get my stuff and Kam’s from the surgery and meet him outside.’ He kissed Erin briefly. ‘Will you let yourself out and lock up? Or you could stay if you like.’
Erin sighed. She’d like very
much indeed. But she wasn’t going to stay. Not while Nalisha was there. Sod it. ‘I’ll go home. Hope everything goes OK at Picton’s. Take care. I’ll see you in the morning.’ She stood on tiptoe and kissed him. ‘I love you.’
‘I love you too. Madly. You know that. And I’m sorry about the
mandap
.’
‘Me too. We really shouldn’t fall out over Elton John’s gazebo, should we?’
Jay laughed and kissed her. A lot.
They stared
at one another then reluctantly Jay moved away. ‘I’m going to have to go.’
‘I know. So am I, before Nalisha arrives from wherever she’s been tonight. I’ll see you in the morning.’ She kissed him again. ‘Jay – sorry.’
‘Me too. I love you.’
And he was gone.
In the village hall, Gina stood back and admired their handiwork. The Indian gods and goddesses stood proudly round the room, looking like imperious, gaudy and ever-so-slightly out of place wallflowers waiting to be asked onto the floor at a Saturday night dance.
‘I think we can call this a success, don’t you?’ Gina blew her tousled curls away from her face. ‘It looks amazing.’
‘It does,’ Kam agreed. ‘And you’re OK with my little, um, idea?’
‘I think your little idea is a brainwave.’
‘Good.’ Kam smiled at her. ‘And of course it’ll have to be our secret.’
‘Oh, of course.’
‘And, as we haven’t got much time, we’ll have to have regular assignations to check and counter-check the development of our plans?’
‘Can’t wait,’ Gina
laughed, noticing the rest of the villagers casting dubious looks in their direction. ‘We’d better join the others before they start noticing that we’re whispering in corners and get paranoid.’
Nalisha, now workmanlike in jeans and a white shirt knotted at the waist and showing an awful lot of toned midriff, smiled happily. ‘Thank you to everyone for helping, and for agreeing to come to my first dance class.’
Dora Wilberforce, her hair awry and her second-best summer frock – droopy beige with bottle-green geometric splatters – covered in dust, clapped her hands in delight. ‘They look wonderful. Such a clever idea of yours, young Nalisha, to bring a bit of life back to the village hall.’ She chuckled. ‘And I do like getting one over on Doug Boswell.’
Sid Duncan nodded vigorously. ‘It’s a great idea, duck. We needs a bit of summat different, and these here gods and goddesses are right perfect as a backdrop for your Bollywood sessions.’
Nalisha smiled some more. ‘As long as the other people who might use the village hall don’t object to being watched over by the Lords Krishna and Vishnu and the rest.’
Gina shook her head. ‘I can’t see it being a problem. Quite the opposite in fact. They’ll be a talking point. Something no other village hall has got.’
‘That’s true,’ Dora Wilberforce said vigorously. ‘It might even help to bring people back here. There’s no youth club any more, and the Cubs and Brownies and what have you all meet in the new community hall at Bluebell Common now.’
‘Ah, and Weight Watchers
has moved to Daisy Bank,’ Mary Blundell added. ‘And the mums and toddlers group go to Maizey St Michael. It’s mostly just been us line dancers that have used the hall here for ages.’
Sid Duncan broke in. ‘And we need to get them – and more – back again. And this might just do it. There’s no one nosier than villagers – so as soon as they thinks we’ve got something special here, they’ll come back in their droves, you see. And as the village hall key holder, Nalisha, my duck, anyone who has any complaints will have me to answer to.’
‘Great.’ Nalisha smiled. ‘So, I’ll get some flyers printed off on my laptop and we’ll all meet up here next Tuesday evening, at about half past seven for our first Bollywood dance lesson?’
‘Too right, dear,’ Dora Wilberforce said cheerfully. ‘I for one can’t wait. It’ll make a nice change from side-stepping and thigh-slapping to “Achy Breaky Heart” for the umpteenth time.’
‘And bloody Zumba,’ Mary Blundell said with feeling. ‘I signed up for Zumba at Maizey St Michael. Dr Jermaine said it was good exercise. Daft bat, she is. Ten minutes in and I thought I was going to die.’
‘That’s because it’s meant for the youngsters,’ her husband Ted said. ‘You’re way too old for it, duck.’
‘Believe me, she isn’t.’ Sophie laughed. ‘I started going to Zumba, too. With Erin and Bella. We all came out of the first class scarlet-faced, panting and unable to walk straight. I think we’ll all happily swap it for a bit of Bollywood. And we’ll have to ask Renata and Julia to come along as well. You’ll have a full house of ex-Zumba-ers on your first Tuesday, I reckon, Nalisha. Natalie, who runs the Zumba classes, will be after your blood.’