Page 25 of The Fete of Summer (Tales of Crumbington #1)
March
Living in the church-owned house adjacent to the village hall, Father Arbuthnot Mulligan always arrived first to committee meetings to unlock the doors and put out chairs, drinks and snacks.
By the time Nathan arrived, Arlene and Doris had usually joined Father Mulligan.
Polly and Mikey invariably turned up last. Despite Nathan being later than usual that evening, courtesy of Jaymes’ horniness, Doris sat alone.
“Did I get the wrong night?” said Nathan, hesitating in the doorway.
“Arby’s gone to fetch a bigger table for Arlene’s fancy snacks.
She called and doled out instructions. Said she’s running late,” said Doris, rising slowly from her seat and moving stiffly over to him.
“She’s picking up the photographer, who’s got pictures from your saucy calendar. Can’t wait, can you?”
“Hmm,” said Nathan, looking away. As she reached him, she hooked her hand under his arm.
“Come and join me. Try a glass of Arby’s cooler.”
For a previous meeting, Father Mulligan and Doris had made up a jug of cranberry fruit mix, a berry flavour Arlene detested and not something any of the others cared to sample.
“Not for me. It’s one of the few things Arlene and I agree on. I find cranberries a tad on the sour side.”
“Which is why Arby and I shake things up a little with our secret recipe. Just try one glass. I promise you won’t be disappointed. And I wanted to have a chat with you, anyway.”
As Nathan settled back and took a tentative gulp of the juice, his taste buds exploded and a burn hit the back of his throat.
“For heaven's sake, Doris! What is in this?”
“Shush, dear. Arby ran out of Smirnoff, so he’s using something called Balkan 176 this week.
But I find a cup or two of what he calls Mulligan’s Holy Water helps take the edge off Arlene’s meetings.
Amazing the little things that man picks up in his religious circles.
Now, let’s talk about you. I knew I was right last month.
I’m seeing almost pure red tonight. Energy mixed with passion.
More vibrant than this cocktail. I’m right, aren’t I?
Somebody’s having fun in the bedroom department, if I’m not mistaken.
Your aura’s blazing brighter than a bonfire. ”
“Is it?” said Nathan, his cheeks burning. “Things are rather looking up in that aspect of my life.”
“Goodness me, I’m worried if I sit too close, I might catch fire.”
Nathan gave a shaky laugh and polished off the rest of his drink as Doris’ cool hand landed on his wrist.
“Nathan Fresher, you have always been such a lovely boy. Anybody else your age would have run a thousand miles from this village. But that’s not you, is it?
Loyal to a fault. Your father would be so proud.
At my wedding to Ned, my late husband, my mother told me that if our child ever found someone special, I should pass these family heirlooms on to them.
Unfortunately, we never had any, so I hope you’ll do me the honour of standing in for the son I never had. ”
Doris handed over a small, deep blue velvet pouch tied together with black drawstrings. When Nathan opened the bag and tipped the contents into the palm of his hand, out fell two silver claddagh rings, with the classic design of hands holding a heart and topped with a crown.
“Hands, heart and crown. Hands for friendship, heart for love and crown for loyalty. If you’re single and looking for love, you wear this on your right hand with the point of the heart away from the wrist.”
“Upside down?”
“If you like, yes.”
“Now, if you wear it pointing towards the wrist—the right way up—that indicates you’re in a relationship. Of course, it could also mean you’re just not looking. On your left hand, pointing to your wrist means you’re engaged, and the right way up means you’re married.”
“Why do I need two?”
“Silly boy. The other’s meant for the person who shares their heart with you.”
“Oh. Not sure we’re quite there yet.”
“Perfectly fine, Nathan,” said Doris, wrapping her veined hand around his and smiling. “Keep them safe until you’re sure.”
Nathan wondered if Jaymes would notice if he wore a ring on his right hand the way Doris had described. Then again, maybe that would be a bit too much, considering the circumstances. When he held one ring up to the light, he smiled.
“She’d have wanted you to be happy, you know.”
“Sorry?”
“Your mother. She’d have wanted nothing more than to see you happy and settled.”
Nathan popped both rings into the pouch and put them into his pocket.
“How well did you know her, Doris?”
“Everyone knew your mother, dear. She was friendly enough with me and the other ladies of the village. Refused to join in the gossip and never had a bad word to say about anyone.”
Right then Arlene Killroy burst into the room, a huge black bag dangling heavily from one hand, her designer handbag in the other. Apart from being weighed down, she appeared in unusually high spirits.
“Nathan. Be a dear, will you? Go and help Jenny with the projector equipment. We’re having a bit of a production tonight. Got some wonderful things to show you.”
Over the next twenty minutes, as Mikey and Polly arrived, everyone took instructions from either Jenny or Arlene to set up the hall.
Anticipation ran high when they arranged the usual horseshoe of chairs around a low table of canapés and a selection of drinks, including beer and wine, with the projector and screen set up at the open end.
“Well, everyone,” said Arlene, clapping her hands to get their attention once everyone had settled.
“We’re going to dispense with the usual agenda this month because I’m absolutely delighted to report that it’s all good news.
Very shortly we’ll be showcasing some of the football team calendar, which, I am pleased to report, has turned out better than anyone could have expected.
I’ll let Jenny talk more about that and some other amazing developments.
In addition, I have a three-dimensional computer-animated walkthrough of the plan for the fête, something my husband’s department helped create, so you can see where every stall will be set up.
And before I start, let me tell you that all village stores remain pride of place on the green.
The last thing I’ll talk to you about is a couple of the sponsors I’ve approached.
As usual, let’s open this up to any comments or suggestions.
Now I’m going to hand proceedings over to Jenny. ”
“Thank you, Arlene. So, if I tell you I was initially sceptical about this idea, I’m certain you’ll understand.
I know some of you had doubts yourselves,” she said, glancing around, her gaze settling on Nathan.
“Even in the studio, many team members had reservations. But I can tell you here and now that, as Arlene intimated in her introduction, I am both delighted and immensely proud of the result. Personally and professionally. What I’m going to show you tonight is only a draft of the final version—some of the twelve players still need to sign consent forms for us to use their images—but even so, I hope you see the quality and potential.
Father Mulligan, can you get the lights, please? ”
As the lights dimmed, Jenny prodded keys on her laptop until the first slide popped up. A plain white screen had the black words Crumbington United Uncovered heading the empty slide.
“We’re still in two minds what to have here. Arlene and I wondered about a team photograph in the changing room, but logistically, that’s difficult to organise.”
“Pop along Sunday,” said Mikey. “Everyone’ll be there for the game against Christchurch.”
“A nice idea in theory,” said Jenny. “But a candid shot of the team without the professional touches of all the other photos is going to look out of place. To have that on the front cover might cheapen the overall effect. Once you’ve seen more, you’ll understand what I mean.
I’m already considering having a collage of all the team shots in December.
But for the cover, I’m actually thinking along the lines of having a monochrome shot of a recently vacated changing room.
But let’s keep an open mind as you see the other photos.
Okay, these are in no particular order. Let’s start with Ken Mills, the gym instructor. ”
As soon as the shot appeared, Nathan understood exactly what Jenny meant.
Professional. Pure resolution, skin tones and sensuality, the shot was exquisite.
With the gym wall bars as a backdrop, a naked Ken scaled a thick braided rope held tightly between his hairy thighs, the corded muscles of his arms and defined furry chest, his feet crossed around the rope at the ankles and his handsome features in full view even though his concentration was fixed on a spot above his head.
“Oh. My. Giddy. Aunt,” whispered Polly, next to him. “Is that really young Kenny Mills? If so, I need to change my personal trainer.”
“Sorry, Polly,” Nathan whispered back. “But he bats for my team.”
“Of course he does.”
“Arby, dear. Can you give me a top up and some more ice?” asked Doris, holding out her plastic cup to him. “And I’m going to need a lot more if they’re all like this.”