Seeing Stars (31 page)

‘Sorry? What? Oh, Zil? No, sorry, haven’t see her,’ Amber muttered, thinking Zillah’s new freedom of spirit had a lot to do
with Timmy – but probably not in the way he wanted to hear. Not even now. It might still hurt his feelings. ‘But she’s usually
on time, isn’t she? I’m sure she’ll be here. And isn’t Fern working tonight, too?’

‘She’s on Hayfields duty.’ Timmy looked bereft. ‘I’m going to pop over to see her later, when we’ve shut. Look, Amber, you
don’t think I’m making a complete prat of myself, do you?’

‘Over Fern? No way! She’s loved you for years. It just took a bit of astral magic to sort it out. You two will have the archetypal
happy ending.’

Timmy beamed again. He looked, Amber thought, like a fat cat that had fallen into a vat of cream. How very weird this love
thing was. Still, at least one of the tangles had been satisfactorily unravelled. Cassiopeia would probably take hundreds
of years to sort out the others.

As if by magic, the pub, one minute silently warm and deserted, with dappled sun patterns across the polished floorboards,
was filled with hot and thirsty people.

‘Sorry I’m late.’ Zillah, looking anything but, grinned as she floated through the throng and ducked behind the bar. She was
wearing the beautiful rose-sprigged dress and had long rosebud earrings dangling through her curls. ‘I was
listening to some of my old records while I was getting ready. Lost all track of time. OK, who’s next?’

Amber watched Zillah as she served customers, laughing, exchanging the necessary few words. Timmy was right: she looked so
much more relaxed now. Happier. It must be so nice for her, Amber thought, to be able to get sexily glammed up for work at
last without Timmy thinking it was all for his benefit.

Lewis suddenly appeared through the throng, and grinned at Amber. ‘Your long-haired lover from Winterbrook is outside.’

She tried really, really hard not to tingle at his appearance or the grin. ‘Freddo? Already? Brilliant – but why didn’t he
come in?’

‘We arrived at the same time, so he’s grabbed a table and is chatting to Jem while I get the drinks. It’s too hot to be inside
anyway. Oh, hi Ma – when you’re ready …’

‘You wait your turn,’ Zillah said cheerfully. ‘Being family doesn’t mean you can jump the queue. Next!’

‘I’ll have a house white if you’re buying, ta.’ Amber slid from the stool. ‘I’d better go and rescue Freddo—’

‘He won’t need rescuing from Jem.’ Lewis looked affronted. ‘Surely, you know that by now?’

‘Of course I do. I wasn’t worried about Jem. Jem’ll be the perfect host. It’s the rest of Fiddlesticks I’m concerned with.
They don’t often see people like Freddo round here, do they?’

Her worst fears were realised as she forced her way into the beer garden and blinked in the glare of the sun spiralling on
the western horizon. Freddo, his hair even more bleached and wild, his skin even more perma-tanned, his wrists and neck covered
in rap-master bling, was surrounded by curious Fiddlestickers, most of whom knew, thanks to the village jungle drums, why
he was there but still felt the need to offer him advice.

‘Hi, duck. My, you get prettier by the day.’ He looked up at Amber in relief as she elbowed her way through Goff
and Mrs Jupp and Billy Grinley and the Motions. ‘This is a quaint little village,’ he dropped his voice to a whisper, ‘but
the natives are a bit odd.’

‘Tell me about it,’ Amber smiled, kissing Jem and shaking Freddo’s hand before she sat down. ‘Mind you, rumour has it that
they’re even weirder in Bagley-cum-Russet.’

‘Oh, yeah. I heard that, too. Haven’t been out to any of these villages for years,’ Freddo said. ‘Spend every waking minute
on the agency: out on the road or in the Winterbrook office. Too little time, too many villages – you know how it is?’

Amber nodded. ‘When I first arrived here I thought I’d be bored to tears. I simply couldn’t imagine what people in the countryside
found to do all day. I was itching to get into Reading for shopping and nightlife—’

‘And you haven’t?’

‘Not once. Too busy to even think about it,’ Amber grinned. ‘Far too occupied here to even give it a second thought.’

‘I could take you out in Reading one night, if you liked.’ Freddo made an expansive take-it-or-leave-it hand gesture. ‘Round
the clubs, take in a few bars. I’ve got some good contacts in the best venues. Nothing heavy.’

‘What about Mrs Freddo? Wouldn’t she object?’

‘Hardly, duck. Mrs Freddo was my receptionist.’

‘The one that went to lunch in 1998 and didn’t come back?’

‘The very same.’

They laughed together. The assorted Fiddlestickers, who had been hanging on every word, joined in.

‘I think Timmy’s doing half-price drinks about now,’ Amber said softly to the hovering crowd. Then she leaned towards Slo
and lowered her voice even further. ‘And Lewis was flashing the fags around like there’s no tomorrow when I left him …’

‘That got rid of ’em sharpish,’ Freddo said in admiration
as the throng melted away. ‘What the hell did you say to them?’

‘Simply what they wanted to hear. All untruths I’m afraid, but by the time they’ve argued the toss in the pub they’ll hopefully
have forgotten about you and we can get some peace.’

‘Cool, duck. Look, are you sure you don’t want a job with me?’

‘Couldn’t stand the pace,’ Amber grinned. ‘And thanks for the offer of an evening in Reading, but I’ll pass on that too, if
you don’t mind.’

‘Someone else doing the squiring, is there, duck?’

‘No,’ Amber shook her head, ‘but I live in hope.’

Jem took her hand and placed it on his heart, then held up his hands, crossed at the wrist and gestured towards the pub.

Amber laughed. ‘Jem lives in hope, too, apparently. I think we’re both probably going to be disappointed … Oh, look – right
on cue …’

Lewis, looking even more like a hippie love-god, with the sun radiating in golden splendour behind him, carried the glasses
over to the table.

‘Is anyone going to let me in on the joke?’

They all shook their heads, still smiling.

‘Sod you, then,’ he said affably, sliding his long legs on to the bench alongside Amber. ‘So, what’s next on the agenda?’

‘We were hoping you could tell us,’ Amber said, nodding towards the village green where large crowds were already gathering.
‘What exactly goes on at this Plough Night thing?’

‘Firstly, it’s nowhere near as much fun as Cassiopeia’s,’ Lewis stretched his legs under the table. His trainer rested against
Amber’s sandal. Neither of them moved. ‘Although I think there’ll be a lot of off-the-record rain-wishing tonight.’ He moved
his foot slightly, closer, not away, and smiled. ‘However, the main idea is to ask the Plough, when
the constellation appears in the sky, to bring rude good health to the villagers and prosperity to their undertakings, and
of course, a hearty crop to their gardens and fields. Goff does the public incantations as usual, and then we have a lot to
drink and usually something earthy like jacket potatoes to eat and that’s about it …’

Amber returned the pressure of his foot. ‘So when would be the best time to show Freddo around?’

‘Sooner rather than later,’ Lewis said, looking innocent. He moved his foot away. Slowly. ‘As soon as we’ve finished these
drinks – if that’s OK with you, Freddo, we’ll go and take a stroll.’

‘Fine by me,’ Freddo drained his pint of Hearty Hercules in record time even by Fiddlesticks’ standards. ‘It’s only on the
green, isn’t it? The others will be able to find us?’

‘Others?’

‘Ah, the band’s been playing a couple of local gigs. They’re free tonight, staying over in Newbury. I issued an open invite
to any of them that are sober enough to make it – hope that’s OK?’

‘The more the merrier,’ Lewis grinned, finishing his own pint and standing up, helping Jem to his feet. ‘As you can see, there
aren’t any restrictions.’

They wandered across the green, bathed in the last spectacular pink-gold glow of the sun as it disappeared behind the Hazy
Hassocks hills, Jem holding Amber’s hand.

She looked up at Lewis as they crossed the rustic bridge. ‘What was all that about – the footsie thing?’

‘What footsie thing? If your size eighteens got in the way back there then it’s hardly my fault, is it?’ He ruffled her hair
fleetingly. ‘Seriously Amber – I’d never play games with you.’

Feeling suddenly very hot, Amber looked down at the parched grass. Was this a seminal moment? Was it –?

Bugger.

Sukie, the Irish witch, along with several of her friends, was skippetying towards them through the crowds.

‘Hi,’ she flashed white teeth at Lewis as she passed. ‘We must get together for that drink sometime.’

‘Yeah,’ Lewis grinned. ‘We must. I’ll give you a ring.’

Jem frowned at Sukie and then at Lewis and squeezed Amber’s hand very tightly. She squeezed it back. She really wished she
could squeeze Sukie’s neck.

Fortunately the murderous moment was interrupted by a familiar voice.

‘Amber! Amber – over here! Look who I’ve brought to see you!’

Mitzi and her family were out in force, and Amber, leaving Jem with Lewis and Freddo, spent ages cooing over Sonny, delighted
to see him in the flesh at last, and chatting to Mitzi’s two pretty daughters and their partners and exchanging north-western
banter with Joel, the to-die-for dentist.

‘Jace and Lezli phoned this afternoon,’ Mitzi said. ‘The Broughton-Pogges. Apparently Fanny and Helly, the nightmare twins
from hell, have been extremely subdued and dutiful since the party. They added a bonus to our fee and have asked us to go
back and cater for their wedding party next year. As we seem to have done very well out of our – er – my recent mistakes,
maybe getting the ingredients wrong should be something we make a feature of in future recipes …’

‘Please, no,’ Amber laughed. ‘I don’t think I could take it.’

She ran to catch up with the others. Freddo was in deep conference with Goff Briggs.

‘They’re just deciding the best place for the stage and the power cables and the security and safety stuff,’ Lewis said. ‘And
Jem’s sulking.’

‘Why?’

‘Because Sukie said she wanted to go for a drink and because I said I was going to ring her, I gather. I’ve tried to tell
him I was using polite-speak-code for “I had a great time with you, and I like you very much, but I won’t be seeing you again”.’

Amber suddenly did mental handstands across the green.

‘I also told him that I have so many girls’ numbers in my little black mobile that I’d never settle for just one.’

The handstands collapsed in an undignified heap.

The rest of the evening passed in the usual Fiddlesticks manner: lazy conversations with friends, raucous laughter, and a
fair amount of drinking.

As the sky eventually darkened, Goff, his neck garlanded with woven corn like some ancient pagan leader, stalked towards the
centre of the green, a potato in one hand and a clump of earth in the other.

The crowds parted to allow him through until he reached the little hillock beside the rustic bridge. Much to Jem’s enjoyment,
several children, rather unwisely in Amber’s opinion, trotted behind him and stood on either side of the stream, holding blazing
torches aloft like miniature Olympic flames. She supposed, should the worst happen, the kiddies could always be dunked quickly
in the water to douse the resulting inferno.

Over to the right, just visible through the willows in the deepest gloom, Gwyneth and Big Ida were furtively holding their
own little ceremony involving a watering can, a few runner beans, a candle and a length of hosepipe.

‘This is truly scary shit, duck,’ Freddo muttered beside her as Goff started his nature’s bounty spiel. ‘Spooky. Give me a
nice bit of transcendental meditation any day. Now that I understand.’

‘Do you want to go back to the pub?’ Lewis asked. ‘Get a head start in the queue for the jacket spuds?’

‘No way,’ Amber said. ‘Sorry Jem – I know you’re probably starving, as ever, but I’m sure there’ll be plenty. No, if you don’t
mind, I want to watch this …’

Goff was now holding the potato and the clod of earth aloft towards the skies. The majority of the crowd seemed to be mumbling.

‘He’s offering them up and asking the Plough to give Fiddlesticks a plentiful crop,’ Lewis informed them. ‘Those
with a vested interest in farms and gardens make their own earthy-fertility wish now, too.’

‘Stone me,’ Freddo shook his head. ‘I’m getting spooked and no mistake.’

Amber giggled.

Lewis moved nearer to her. ‘Can you see the Plough? Up there?’

Call her a pushover, but she loved this bit of the astral ceremonies. The standing close and pointing.

‘Trixie dog, you mean?’

‘I told you it was best not to mention that,’ Lewis laughed softly. ‘And certainly not here and not now. There are those who
may think you were mocking.’

‘Would I mock? Moi?’ Amber squinted upwards at the deep purple sky, now alight with scattered silver sequins. ‘Um – yes, I
think I can see it. Yes – yes, I can – I think. Over there, isn’t it? Oh – but what’s the other one? The smaller constellation
right next to it with the really, really bright star?’

‘Actually,’ Lewis said, his face close to hers, his breath warm, ‘although I hate to say this, your thing about the Plough
looking like a dog isn’t that far out. The Plough is also part of a larger constellation called the Great Bear. The bright
star you can see is the Pole Star, which is part of the Little Bear—’

‘Only needs bleeding Goldilocks to round the fairy story off nicely,’ Freddo muttered.

Lewis laughed. ‘Legend has it, that there once was a beautiful princess – what? Yeah, Jem,
just
like Amber – well, Juno, who was queen of the gods, was so jealous of this princess that she turned her into a bear. Juno’s
son was out hunting and was about to shoot the princess-bear when Jupiter, the king of the gods, turned him into a bear as
well and swung both animals up into the sky by their tails – the reason both constellations have long trailing stars – so
they could live together safely and happily ever after.’