Page 43 of The Fete of Summer (Tales of Crumbington #1)

“One hundred and fifty,” came a male voice in the crowd, once the laughter had died down. Nathan smiled in confusion at a mischievously grinning Ken Mills, who simply shrugged. His older partner, an arm around Ken’s shoulders, smiled conspiratorially. Nathan had no idea what they had in mind.

“Two hundred,” came Polly’s voice from somewhere in the crowd, standing next to a grinning Father Mulligan. Had they planned this little charade to try to raise the stakes?

“Okay, Polly. You know I can’t cook,” said Nathan.

“Who said anything about cooking? I’ll pick out the inordinately expensive restaurant and you pick up the tab. That way, I know I’ll get my money’s worth.”

Another burst of merriment followed. People were getting a better show than anything on the television that night. Eventually the laughter died down.

“A thousand pounds,” came the very distinctive voice of Clifton O’Keefe, with some finality. He had been standing on the stage to the right of Helen and Arlene but stepped forward to the microphone. “For the honour of having dinner with my best mate from high school.”

At first, the whole crowd went silent, but then wild applause followed. Camera flashes went off around the group, the journalists eating up the spectacle.

“Eleven hundred pounds,” came a woman’s voice from the back of the crowd, causing a collective intake of breath and all heads to turn.

“Auntie Margie?” said Nathan, barely audibly, his eyes wide with astonishment.

“What are you playing at, Mother?” called Clifton, his hands held out, which elicited more laughter. A spotlight singled out Clifton’s mother, Margaret Hogmore. Nathan hadn’t even known she was in the country and had certainly not seen her arrive.

“What, dear? A mother can’t bid for a nice dinner with her son’s best friend? You know I’ll invite you and Raul along, anyway. So let’s not be selfish. That’s not how I brought you up.”

“One thousand, two hundred pounds,” said Clifton, his hands on his hips, the bouts of laughter getting louder each time. “And you’re not invited.”

“Fifteen hundred.”

“Mother!”

Helen, amused by the spectacle, watched both of them as Clifton glared out at his mother. Eventually she decided to bring the bidding to a close.

“For fifteen hundred pounds. Going once, going twice —”

“One thousand, six hundred,” said Clifton, folding his arms and glaring at his mother.

“Seventeen hundred. And I will outbid every one of your counteroffers until I get what I want. And as your mother, you know I will, dear.”

Helen Monash, clearly amused by the spectacle, looked between Clifton and his mother. Eventually, as nothing else came, she began the final chant.

“Well, there it is, folks. For seventeen hundred pounds, going once, going twice—”

“Stop, stop,” said Arlene, hurrying forward to the microphone, one hand glued to her phone, the other held in the air.

“Look, I know this is a little unorthodox, ladies and gentleman—well, for this kind of local event, anyway—but we have an anonymous telephone bidder. Someone on the line right now who is prepared to bid ten thousand pounds for a night out with our baker, Nathan Fresher.”

For a split second, the whole crowd took a collective intake of breath until a tremendous cheer roared in the air, followed by a round of applause. Helen looked to Clifton then out to his mother for any further bids, but both shook their heads.

“In which case, sold to the secret anonymous bidder on the phone, for ten thousand pounds. Let’s hope you take them somewhere nice, Nathan.”

“Florida might be a good idea for that price, Fresher,” shouted Bob Collier.

After another burst of good-natured laughter, Helen brought all the players back onstage and began winding things down, thanking everyone involved.

Nathan barely heard a word. Lots of players and people he knew came up to ask who the person might be, but Nathan had no idea.

Jaymes crossed his mind, but he didn’t have that kind of money.

Besides, it was far too early in the morning for him in his part of the world.

And Jaymes was definitely not a morning person.

As the band members began to get in place, ready to start up the music again, Arlene pulled Nathan to one side and handed him the phone.

“The winning bidder’s on the line. Wants to speak to you privately, away from prying ears. I suggest you go out back behind the stage where it’ll be quieter.”

Nathan stepped away just as the Beatles tribute band they’d hired for the event struck up the beginning bars to the song All You Need Is Love .

“Hello?”

Hearing the echo of his voice and a slight static crackle, Nathan realised the call had to be long distance. Had Jaymes bid for him? Nobody spoke at the other end, most likely having the same connection issues.

“Everything okay, Nathan?” asked Ken, who had sidled up to him.

“I can’t hear a thing,” said Nathan.

“Try down by the merry-go-round. I had the same issue earlier. The signal’s stronger down there.”

“Thanks, mate.”

With the band playing at full volume, he walked a few metres farther on, one hand clamped over his free ear to listen better.

“Hello, Nathan.”

At first, Nathan didn’t recognise the voice, even though the accent sounded oddly familiar. Suddenly, everything fell into place.

“Raul?”

“Yes, it’s me. Calling…maternity ward…San Diego. Are you having a good day?”

“Raul, you can’t bid that much.”

“Stop, Nathan. I donate ten times…charities every year. For me, it’s… agreement with…sponsorship deals. So don’t even…saying no.”

Despite the lousy connection, Nathan understood what Raul was saying.

“Well, it’s very generous. Hang on a minute. Does Clifton know?”

“No. But his mother does. She’s…idea…helped me set this up.”

“Why am I not surprised? Hang on, I’m going to see if I can get a better signal.”

Nathan moved into the centre of the green, which seemed to do the trick.

“Look, Nathan. I’m not blind. I know my husband—yes, we did secretly tie the knot in Colorado—has a soft spot for you.

I understand. You were his first love, and that’s hard to get over.

But I also know he loves me. And, truly, when he meets his niece and nephew for the first time—who are stubbornly taking their time to arrive—I know he will be totally in love with them.

I just didn’t want him to make a fool of himself. ”

“Is that why you outbid Clifton?”

“Partly.”

“Ah, Raul. Then you should have called me first. I could have saved you a lot of money. That was never going to happen because I wouldn’t have let him. Clifton’s a friend. And always will be. But that’s all he’s ever going to be. My heart belongs to someone else.”

Nathan wasn’t even sure if Raul heard the last part because a surge of deafening static came from the phone. By the time Nathan could hear more clearly, he decided to be gracious and honour Raul's generous donation.

“Okay, Raul. When are you back here so our dinner date can happen?”

“Sorry I missed…bad signal…not…to find an open space…my end. Can you…again…louder?”

“I asked,” Nathan huffed with frustration and purposely raised his voice, “when. Is. Our. Dinner. Date. You know what? It doesn’t matter.”

Nathan considered ending the call because they’d already said everything that needed saying.

“Where…you?”

“Hang on, Raul,” he shouted into the phone, walking even farther away from the stage. “Let me see if I can get a better signal. Hang on.”

Once he had moved out and stood in front of the darkened merry-go-round that Ken had suggested in the first place, he leant his back against the wooden fencing and tried one last time.

“Hi, Raul. I’m back. Can you hear me now?”

“Much better. Loud and clear now. What were you asking?”

“I was asking when our date is going to happen.”

“How about right now?”

But the voice didn’t come from the phone. The tone—strong and familiar—issued from a figure standing beneath the covering of a stall, a tall shadow that broke away from the darkness and moved with self-assurance towards Nathan. Astonished, Nathan dropped his hands to his sides.

Jaymes Wynter stepped up and pulled a slack-jawed Nathan into a powerful hug, squeezing the air from Nathan’s lungs before pushing his stubbly chin into Nathan’s ear. After a second he stood back, took the phone from Nathan’s hand, and spoke into the earpiece.

“Well played, Raul. I owe you big-time. But I’ll take it from here. Let us know as soon as you hear the good news. Yes, mate. We love you too.”

Popping the phone into his jacket pocket, Jaymes reached out and pulled Nathan back towards him.

This time, instead of a cosy hug, their lips met, and Nathan felt tears brimming at the warmth and softness and familiarity, something he had forgotten just how much he’d missed.

Strong arms wrapped around his back and a solid body crushed up against his, and suddenly Nathan felt the world make sense.

Jaymes’ kiss tasted of fresh minty toothpaste, and he smelt of a unique citrus shower gel, almost masking his usual musky body odour and distinctive aftershave.

Coming up for air, Nathan pulled his face away.

“How can you be here? I only spoke to you this morning?”

“At two-thirty in the morning, your time. I was just boarding the flight to Heathrow. Got into London around half four this afternoon. Ken picked me up and drove like a madman to his place so I could shower and change before the auction. Look, I know you don’t like surprises, but—”

“Maybe I need to qualify that. I don’t like unpleasant surprises. But I’ve decided I love good ones, and this is the best I’ve ever had. Who was in on this whole covert operation of yours? Clifton?”

“No. We didn’t even tell Polly because she can be a little—uh—”

“Indiscreet? Uh-huh. How are you feeling?”

“It’s a long flight. I watched a couple of movies and got quite a bit of work done but didn’t eat or sleep much.”

“You must be really tired.”

“A little. But not that tired. Not for what I want.”

“Dinner?”

“Dinner can wait. I have something far more pressing in mind.”