Vicky’s words were conjuring up interesting thoughts. Did she and Sam have a connection? She liked him when he wasn’t being all weird about Christmas.
‘Hello!’ said a cheery woman in a bobble hat and puffer jacket, interrupting Blythe’s thoughts. ‘Are you local?’ she asked.
‘Err yes. You?’ asked Blythe automatically, even though she knew the answer.
‘No just here for the fireworks. It’s busy. These people can’t all be from this little village. Can they?’
‘All of Holly Cross turns out for the fireworks and the food. Plus it brings in people from the surrounding area, like you. You should try the hot dogs.’
‘Oh, okay. Thanks, bye.’ And she disappeared into the crowd.
‘You okay?’ Vicky waved a potato in front of Blythe’s face.
‘Yeah. Where’s Eden?’ she asked.
‘She’s sitting on the hay bales with the other kids listening to our old history teacher spout on about the gunpowder plot and the very tenuous link to Holly Cross.’
Sam came to join them. He handed Blythe a hot dog and a large white wine and popped the ring on a can of Coke he’d got for himself.
‘Thanks,’ she said, taking them both and immediately biting into the hot dog.
It was as good as ever.
‘First Holly Cross bonfire is it, Sam?’ asked Vicky.
‘Yep. Looking forward to it,’ he replied, although he seemed cautious around Vicky. They ate their hot dogs in silence.
‘Fireworks should be starting soon,’ said Blythe to break the silence. The other two nodded.
When she thought things were feeling a bit awkward, someone else joined them and the awkwardness levels shot into the sky like an errant firework.
‘Hiya, long time no see,’ said Owen, opening his arms to hug Blythe.
‘Oh, Owen.’ Blythe froze and glanced at Vicky who looked crosser than a bulldog chewing a wasp. Belatedly Blythe hugged Owen. ‘What a surprise,’ she said. What she actually meant was: ‘What the hell are you doing turning up out of the blue like this because in about ten seconds Vicky is going to kill me?’
‘I thought I’d come over and see if I could catch up with you guys and enjoy the fireworks too. Hi, Vicky,’ he said.
‘Owen,’ said Vicky, putting down her second jacket potato.
Owen glanced at Sam. ‘All right?’
‘Sorry,’ said Blythe. ‘This is Sam Ashton. He’s new to the village. Sam, this is Owen Hockley. We all went to the local comprehensive together.’
‘Nice to meet you,’ said Sam, and they shook hands. ‘You escaped from Holly Cross then.’
‘No, I never lived in the village. I did spend quite a bit of time here back in the day because…’ His eyes alighted on Vicky’s scowl and he ran out of words. Owen turned back to Sam. ‘I bet you’re dead excited about all the Christmas malarky that they do here.’
‘I’m hoping to avoid all the celebrations,’ said Sam.
Blythe wasn’t sure what was worse – Owen turning up out of the blue or Sam being forced into a conversation about Christmas. Neither was fun.
‘Good luck with that. I lived ten miles away and I still got roped in, thanks to this pair. You don’t stand a chance.’ Owen chuckled then seemed to note Sam’s expression of dread. ‘But, I mean, why would you want to avoid Christmas?’ He waited for Sam to reply.
‘I need to… um…’ Vicky started to walk away.
‘Vic, hang on, can we please talk?’ Owen asked, walking in step with her and making her stop dead.
‘Mummy!’ called Eden. ‘I don’t feel very well. My tummy hurts.’
