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  The Cornish Village School - Summer Love

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-one

  Chapter Forty-two

  Chapter Forty-three

  Chapter Forty-four

  Chapter Forty-five

  Chapter Forty-six

  Chapter Forty-seven

  Chapter Forty-eight

  Chapter Forty-nine

  Acknowledgements

  Copyright

  For my mother – You are an inspirational woman and I thank you for it. I love you very much.

  Chapter One

  The crocus-yellow sunshine peeked through the clouds in the early April sky as Pippa snuck out the side entrance of the school. She skipped down the three granite steps into the playground and through a gated arch, revelling in the warmth of the new season.

  Springtime in Cornwall meant colour, scents and sounds were flooding the county, bringing it back to life after dormant winter. Even the school car park was alive right now with the sound of birdsong and the sight of the green and pink pride-of-Fowey pushing its way out of the dry-stone walls, stretching towards the sunshine, its flowers clamouring for attention.

  She had to be quick. She didn’t want to be seen by the children; it would spoil the magic if she were spotted. She was fairly noticeable, dressed from neck to toe in grey fun-fur complete with paws and a big white fluffy tummy. But hopefully she’d be a lot quicker without the giant head, long floppy bunny ears, whiskers and caricature teeth that she had left upon the staffroom table.

  Safe now she was in the car park, she tried (and failed) to cross it without hopping or raising her paws upwards as she went. It was so difficult not acting the role of rabbit when dressed as one. Actually, it was next to impossible: her feet felt extra bouncy and her taste buds were craving raw carrot, most unusual.

  Reaching her car, she spied the bag stuffed full of chocolate eggs that she had come to fetch. They were her donation to the Easter Egg hunt this afternoon, and had been topped up by her brother and sister, who wanted to contribute, the Easter egg hunt being one of the Penmenna traditions they had all loved as children. Although she suspected her brother, Pete, was motivated more by whether the eggs would make it out of her car in one piece and on time, rather than natural generosity.

  He said some mean things about her car.

  Nearly all of them right.

  Pippa looked through the window at the bag of eggs nestling on a pile of hangers in the back seat, next to a box of books she had been meaning to take to the charity shop for about eight months now. She could do it tomorrow.

  She peeked back in again. Was that the embroidered smocked top she had been looking for? How had that got in there? She was sure she had lost that in the back of the shop, she may have even blamed Lottie for throwing it out. Whoops. She needed to clean this car out, but her priority now was that chocolate.

  Putting the basket down, it took her a further ten seconds to realise that rummaging in a handbag for one’s keys whilst wearing over-sized bunny paws was not the best way to do things. Like her 1940’s vintage mittens, they may be warm and look cute but practical they were not.

  She was aware of someone else coming through the gateway but didn’t look up, being too busy rifling in her bag and trying not to swear loudly in a primary school car park.

  A-ha. She finally managed to get her paw onto her set of keys. If she could just wiggle them up the side of her bag, she could maybe catch onto the keyring as it reached the curl of the top with her teeth. She was fairly sure humans had been using teeth as a tool for years, and this was perfectly normal.

  Grasping the keys in her teeth, she let her handbag fall to the ground and then used her free hands to grab onto the keyring, her big furry covered thumb pushing down on the unlock button as hard as she could with a layer of thick fur between her fingers and the mechanism.

  Ha! Success. The car flashed its lights to confirm it was now unlocked and she wrenched open the back door to grab the carrier bag of chocolate. If she hadn’t come back to get it she knew full well it would be forgotten and she would one day find a huge puddle of chocolate in the foot of the car, swirling with all sorts of lost treasures.

  This weekend she would clean this car out until it was the shiniest-looking vehicle in the village so every time she got into it, it would practically squeak at her, the smell of pine or lemon or something desperately clean wafting over as she drove. She could picture the car smiling at her in return, its little lights flickering as eyes in a thank you. Pete and her father would be so shocked they would be rendered speechless, which would be a huge bonus. Oh, although… she did have that Vintage Easter Fayre to work this weekend in Penzance; it would have to be next weekend instead, but she would definitely get around to it.

  She pulled the bag out of the car, trying not to get tangled as she did so, and then placed it inside the basket she had been carrying, hoisting it up to her elbow, since it wasn’t going any further past the fur. That’s when she spied another three large boxed chocolate eggs on the other side of the car. For goodness sake! She had told her mum she didn’t need any more but the woman couldn’t help herself. She supposed she should be grateful there wasn’t a Tupperware container balanced atop the eggs and rammed with Easter biscuits shaped as rabbits and lambs.

  Her mother was an all-round wonder-woman but one obsessed with baking novelty-shaped biscuits, all of which were delicious and seriously contributed to Pippa’s curves. She had found a pile of almond and raspberry flower biscuits next to her bed the other day.

  She hadn’t lived at home for at least eight years.

  Her mother had ninja burglary skills as well. Or the opposite of burglary, whatever word meant breaking into people’s houses and leaving stuff.

  Pippa returned to the job in hand. She could try and balance the boxes in a tower and hope she could go back inside without bumping into anything or dropping them sixteen times. She could do that. She hadn’t won last summer’s It’s-A-Knockout at Penmenna Feast Week without having some skills.

  Hearing the car door slam next to her, she briefly took a look just in case it was someone who could help. But it was no one she recognised, not that she got a proper
look but Pippa knew all the staff cars by sight, and a lot of the parents as well. It was probably one of the interviewees for Lynne’s maternity cover. Rosy was holding the last day of interviews today.

  Picking up her handbag, she managed to hook that on her shoulder, keep the chocolate egg basket on her elbow, pile up the three Easter eggs her mother had added, and shut and lock the car doors (her chin working the key fob this time). She was just taking one, two, three deep breaths before waddling across the car park and back into the school building when she heard the car next to her start.

  Or rather fail to start. The corner of her eye caught sight of a man inside turning the key, repeatedly trying the ignition and having no luck. Maybe she should help? She had jump leads in the back under the clothes hangers; she knew she did.

  She’d just have to put these boxes down again and…

  The car next to her flashed its lights a couple of times.

  She slid the boxes onto the roof of her car, took the basket off her arm and turned to see the back of a man’s head as he came out of the car, popped open the bonnet and secured it.

  Hmm, a male primary school teacher, if that was what he was. They were rare indeed. Interesting.

  She wandered over to him and coughed.

  ‘Would you like me to take a look?’

  She saw from the back that he had jet black hair, and despite leaning over the car, appeared tall and well dressed. But then if you couldn’t be well-dressed on interview day, something was wrong. She did have a bit of a thing for a man in a suit. People expected her to be all about beard-sporting hipsters or men with dreadlocks and piercings, but actually a well-cut suit or a sniff of tweed and she got dizzy.

  The man in front of her turned around and she took a step back. His eyes were deep puddles of the darkest brown and fringed so beautifully with triple the number of eyelashes people normally had. That just wasn’t fair! She tried not to stare. Or fall in love. It was difficult.

  ‘Ah, the half-woman, half-rabbit I spotted juggling boxes as I was getting in the car.’

  Oh shit, she had forgotten she was dressed like a rabbit. Of course she was. Perfect. She’d have to brazen it out.

  ‘Us half-women, half woodland creatures are pretty good with cars.’ She grinned at him, praying she hadn’t smudged her lipstick with the key fob.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Oh yes, especially ones like me who hang around in car parks. Known for it. Although, you are running the risk that I’m fibbing and I am a cunningly disguised car thief.’

  ‘Ha, well in that case, perhaps I shouldn’t let you near my car.’

  ‘Could be wise. But now you’ll never know if I could have helped.’ Pippa turned as if to go, pretending to pout as she did so.

  ‘Don’t be a cross bunny, a hot…’

  ‘Don’t make that joke. That’s an awful joke, and once out you’ll never be able to take it back.’ She didn’t turn around as she spoke, delivering the words with her back to him, arms folded and trying to keep a giggle from tumbling out.

  ‘Ha, okay, fair point. Stay and help, please, you have to know more than me. If you’ve got a minute that is. I’m really rubbish with cars, and haven’t a clue what I’m doing. It’s a miracle I know how to clip the seatbelt in, let alone change gears.’

  Pippa turned and the man beamed. A grin that not just reached his eyes but made them flash at her as well.

  For goodness sake!

  He wasn’t madly good-looking, not in a traditional sense – his nose was just a smudge too crooked, his lips weren’t entirely symmetrical and his face was round, very round and really smiley – but there was something about him that was pulling Pippa right in. Something more complex than a well-cut suit, crazily beautiful come-to-bed eyes and a daft sense of humour akin to hers. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

  Naturally, the first attractive man she had seen in ages would find her in a car park, dressed as a rabbit. He had probably seen her pulling her keys out with her teeth and clunking the button with her chin as well, fully highlighting the quadruple chin thing that she blamed her father for. She wouldn’t be surprised to discover there was a huge neon arrow hovering somewhere above her head saying ‘Little bit odd. Best avoided.’

  If she accepted right now that he wasn’t feeling the same immediate effect in her presence as she seemed to in his, she could take a look at his car, then flee back to the safety of the school, eggs and all, before she made more of a fool of herself.

  ‘Right, okay, what’s the problem?’ She used her most sensible voice, trying to be brusque and business like. ‘What have you noticed? It won’t start presumably?’

  ‘Yep, and I thought it might be the battery, but the lights all light up okay and the radio is on.’

  ‘Yeah, I saw you flash the lights. I’d gamble the battery is fine. It could be a couple of things. I can take a look if you’d like.’

  ‘Are you sure? Under the bonnet? Here?’

  ‘Yeah, I’ve got a couple of minutes before they send a search party. Hang on.’

  Pippa wished she was a super siren that could unzip the top half of her rabbit costume and hold eye contact with the man in front of her as she did so, maybe waving her hair at the same time before turning around and fixing his car in three moves, dripping effortless glamour as she did so.

  But this was a school car park and, Pippa reminded herself as she shrugged the costume down and tied the sleeves around her waist, she was always going to be way more Bugs Bunny than she would ever be Jessica Rabbit.

  Chapter Two

  Kam’s head was spinning a little. His interview had gone really well; he liked the head here and you could pick up on the feel of a school as soon as you walked through the door and this one felt good. But then after the interview he had been jumped upon by a very thin woman who appeared to have henchwomen who stood behind her as she looked at him rapaciously whilst asking how he felt about the promoting of the school Christmas Fayre as a Winter Wonder celebration instead. It was the fourth of April.

  And then when he had come into the car park he had seen a woman with the blondest bob singing as she skipped across the car park. Actually skipping, and armed with a wicker basket. Not only that, but she was dressed in some kind of furry costume from the neck down.

  He couldn’t tell whether he really wanted this job or should run a mile.

  And now, his car being a bugger and refusing to start meant that the Easter Bunny was standing in front of him, bright red slash of lipstick forming itself into that weird shape that mechanics make with their mouths before shaking their heads while examining your car.

  Next, said woman had unzipped the front of the bunny costume, pulled her arms out of the sleeves, and was rolling the top of her costume down and tying the sleeves around her waist, as if they were overalls and she was utterly used to this. Out of costume it was revealed that she wore a deep green blouse with a ginormous bow tied at the side. It was unusual and at the same time it seemed utterly fitting with the woman in front of him, her platinum bob and red lips, making her look like she had just walked straight off a film set during the golden age of Hollywood. And not at all like she worked with small children in the twenty-first century in Cornwall. Or like she was blessed with innate mechanical knowledge.

  ‘Right.’ She beamed the cheeriest smile at him, and then came and budged him out of the way with her hip. ‘Okay then, let’s have a look.’ The intimacy of her movement surprised him, but he had to admit he kind of liked it. Cornwall was so good for this. People were relaxed here. You bumped someone back home, and it was considered an aggressive action to be received with a snarl.

  She was confident moving around the engine and, as he watched her somewhat in awe, she made an ‘oh’ noise, as if whatever she’d seen in there was the most obvious thing in the world.

  ‘Easy. Okay, give me a second.’ She leaned in and started wiggling a wire. ‘Jump back in and try and see if it turns over now.’

  �
��Okay.’ Kam jumped into the front seat, leaving the door open as he turned the key.

  The engine roared into life, and he left it idling as he got out and came around the front again.

  ‘How did you do that?’

  ‘It was easy: your wire to the starter motor is loose. If it doesn’t start again, just try giving it a wiggle.’

  ‘A wiggle? Is that a mechanical term?’

  ‘It is actually. But you will need it looked at sooner rather than later to stop it going all together.’

  ‘I’ve just moved to the area. I’m staying with my friend in Newquay for the time being. I’ll see who he uses.’

  ‘Good plan, or I could give you my dad’s number. He’s the mechanic in the village and can be totally trusted. If you drive out from here, just by the church is a sharp right hand turn down a lane. Go down there and it’ll look like you shouldn’t be driving any further but do. Have faith and keep going. You’ll find him right at the bottom. Penmenna’s best kept secret. He’ll see you okay. He’s not one of those “kick your tyres and shake his head” kinda guys who then whack you with a quote the equivalent of a small mortgage.’

  ‘Oh, I know the look. You mean this one.’ Kam pursed his lips up and shook his head slightly, hoping he was managing to convey a look of abject alarm and not just like he was sucking lemons. The one he knew he had seen on her face but minutes earlier.

  She laughed. He had made rabbit girl laugh. People didn’t often laugh at his jokes. They tended to look at him pityingly instead.

  ‘Yes, that exact one.’

  ‘Ah, I thought so, the one you were doing as you first looked at my car.’

  ‘I did not!’

  ‘Well, where else would I have learnt it? You so did.’

  ‘Okay well, then it’s genetic. Like my chin. Blame my father.’ Kam looked at her, She had a rather nice chin he thought, rounded and at the end of her face, where it should be.

  ‘Is your dad likely to look at it today? Newquay is a bit of a trek so it would be sensible to get it looked at as soon as possible, I guess.’

  ‘My dad is always busy, but I expect if you tell him I sent you and if I ask him to pop you to the front of the queue then he probably will. I’ll send him a text now. It’s not a large job if it’s just this loose wire. If it’s the starter motor itself that’s a few hours work but he’ll be best placed to tell you.