He squeezed it tightly.
“You have witches here?” Heath looked slightly concerned. “I mean, I know there are no such thing as witches, but you used the word ‘coven’. I’m concerned.”
Abby laughed. “It’s the name affectionately given to three older ladies who run the Post Office and pretty much the rest of the town. They know everything.”
“It would be handy if they actually did.” Alex grumbled. “Like who’s at Felley Manor along with the cult members.”
“We could all do with a psychic,” Heath said. “So what else is going on here, apart from O’Malley risking having his balls chopped off while he sleeps.”
“What’s the score with them?” Abby had been curious since she’d seen them last night. “Have they been a couple?”
Heath shook his head. “Not as far as anyone knows, but they did go to school together. She’s like a librarian and he was always a bad boy.”
A heard of alpacas were trotted past them, led by a man that Abby recognised from the care home that Zack ran.
Heath raised his eyebrows. “Is that normal? Or have they been hired to add country charm or something like that?”
“That’s pretty normal round here,” Alex said. “But normal has wide perimeters.”
Marley started to sing again, her voice carrying across the crowds. Abby watched Heath as he turned, his eyes fixing on the dark-haired singer.
“She’s good. Should I know who she is? My niece keeps telling me I’m out of touch.”
“She’s a local,” Abby said. “Plays the pubs in the area.”
“You mind if I leave you to go listen?” Heath glanced at Alex. “I’ll message you later and we can meet up.”
“Sure. Stay away from the alpacas.”
Heath walked away and a yell from in front of them reminded Abby they were waiting for cheese. Or beer. Maybe both.
* * *
Alex had founda blanket from somewhere, and they’d both sprawled on it, listening to a band whose name Abby actually recognised from a couple of hundred metres away. So far, the festival had been peaceful. People were drinking, eating, getting their cards read and Abby had noticed a few couples slip back to their tents and had spent the last twenty minutes watching a girl in her late teens tentatively flirt with a boy the same age who seemed to like her a lot but had no idea how to make the first move.
“Were you ever like that?” she asked Alex, who had been lounging quietly next to her, people watching too and sipping on the brew that Scott was selling from a tent tucked away in the corner.
Alex rolled over onto his back, his arms snaking around her waist and pulling her close. “Not really.”
“Did you always have moves?”
Alex laughed. “I’m not sure they can be calledmoves. Jake had moves. He also still has the worst pick-up lines ever.”
“I know. He used two on me when I first came here.”
“What?”
She saw a flash of something in his eyes and laughed. “Don’t be jealous! That’s just Jake. He has no other way of introducing himself than to flirt.”
“Or argue. Scott told me that Jake’s new neighbour had been in the bar asking what she’d done to upset him. Apparently, she compared his body language to an untameable horse.” Alex gave a grin that was pure evil. “I might twist what she’s said and tell him.”
Abby slapped his thigh. “Don’t. Just sit back and watch her eat him alive.”
There was a flurry of voices and then the weight of a six-year-old landed squarely between Abby and Alex, with a yell that almost split Abby’s eardrum.
“Uncle Alex! I’ve had candyfloss!”
Abby managed to get some of the breath Sadie-Grace had forced out of her lungs back and wriggled round to see Rayah and Jonny, who were both grinning, Jonny clearly having just taken a photo.
