‘You’re not dressing up in a costume for donations, are you?’ Tori sniggered. ‘I can’t imagine anything less likely.’
Harley’s jaw tensed. ‘No, something equally unpleasant.’
‘You’ll be fine,’ Kirsten reassured, before looking around the circle. ‘And everyone will get to see what he’s up to later. Now, off you all go.’ With wry laughter ringing in the air, they disbanded, each person more than happy to play their part.
A while later, Tori gawped at the teeming street. ‘I can’t believe it. It’s rammed. There must be at least a thousand people in the village. What the actual fu?—’
‘Yes. It’s a shock, but a good one,’ Albie interjected, ‘and the band isn’t even performing for another hour.’ In the meantime, a medley of upbeat summer hits was playing through a sound system one of Clover’s friends had lent them. They probably needed some sort of permit for all this, but he’d worry about that if someone from the council showed up. Ethan was unconcerned, saying it wasn’t his area of expertise, but to only worry about it if they needed to.
To be fair, everyone seemed happy enough. Couples, families and groups of friends occupied tables and were eating cake off pretty porcelain plates, or lounging on walls enjoying the blissful British sunshine, drinking pints of beer from plastic cups. Some were crowded around the hog roast, others wandering up and down the road peering into the neat allotment or gawking atthe blooming front gardens of the quaint thatched cottages. The noise level and sheer busyness were overwhelming, and Tori was visibly nervous at the heaving crowds, but snuggled into Ethan’s side, his arm around her shoulders.
Albie shook his head in wonder at the bustling village. Rustic bunting hung off every available surface, fairy lights were entwined in tree branches and floral hoops on small stands decorated the cake table. Better yet, the sun was beaming in the sky hanging blue and vast above them. ‘I’ve never seen Little Beaubrook look so beautiful. It’s been brought back to life, even with the half-finished and vacant buildings.’ He gulped. ‘Whatever happens, Rose would’ve been blown away by all this. I wish she could be here. She’d have loved it.’
Clover arrived clutching a piece of carrot cake in a napkin, overhearing the tail end of his sentence. ‘She is here,’ she declared, gently touching the middle of Albie’s chest before looking up at the manor.
‘I think so too,’ Tori agreed, ‘right, Ethan?’
‘Absolutely.’
Albie was about to reply, but there was a commotion, a ripple of whispers running through the crowd. People craned their heads, and a few pointed toward the stage area.
‘Hey, isn’t that whatshisname?’ a woman with pink hair standing nearby, said to her dungareed friend. ‘The famous tennis player?’
‘Tennis player?’ Tori repeated. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Let’s find out,’ Albie replied, towing Clover through the mass of bodies, pleased he’d dropped Colin home for a nap. Fighting their way to the front took effort. By the time they’d arrived, the rest of the association had joined them from various points around the village. Frowning at each other, they exchanged puzzled glances.
A bulky man ahead of them moved to the left, and they saw Harley on stage in jeans and a button-down shirt accompanied by a female presenter from the local TV station, a cameraman filming them.
‘What on earth—?’ Albie started, but Kirsten shushed him, watching Harley with a proud expression.
‘So, why now?’ the blonde woman was asking curiously, ‘When your privacy has been so closely guarded for the last six months?’
‘My privacy’s still important, but after careful consideration and some risk to the life I’ve built, I feel this topic’s worth talking about.’ Taking a deep breath, he stared down the camera lens. ‘I want to raise awareness about heart disease and encourage people to donate organs, because that’s what saved me. Not long ago, I suffered heart failure due to an undiagnosed genetic condition. I survived only because a young woman who died tragically young, was a registered organ donor. She improved the lives of many others because of her generosity.’
His voice dropped, deep and full of gratitude. ‘Her heart was too small for an outright transplant, so they did piggyback surgery and now it beats in my chest, supporting mine. Having her good heart and moving to a place,’ he gestured to the manor perched gracefully on the hill, its honey façade looking cheerful in the sunshine, ‘and living in a community where kindness is the overwhelming force,’ he smiled at his neighbours, ‘has given me a meaningful life and made me a better man. So now I’m asking people to commit the ultimate altruistic act and help others by becoming organ donors.’
‘Well, that’s quite a story.’ The presenter was visibly moved, blinking away moisture from her eyes as the audience listening with rapt attention. ‘You just talked about kindness being an overwhelming force in your community. Isn’t today about raising money to save the village? Tell us more about that.’
‘That’s right, Anna.’ He gave her a brief, charming smile. ‘It started with contractual stipulations, and something we originally called the Roseto plan, along with daily rules for living. But really, it began with the promise that a man I’ve grown to hugely admire made to his late wife. Her family originally built the manor in 1798, and it’s an interesting tale. The village was built in the 1930s and during the Second World War…’
Later, as the band played their famous hits and whipped the crowd into a frenzy by asking them to jump around and sing with them, the association congregated on the small patch of lawn adjoining the village allotment. Albie regarded them with fondness as he sat with Clover on a picnic blanket she’d provided.
Ezra was chomping on a teething ring while Kit sprawled on the grass beside him, laughing at something Theo was sharing on his phone. Tori had remarked earliertheir bromance was going strong, whatever that meant. Now, she was lying on her stomach next to Ethan, nodding along to the music as he tucked one of her black spiral curls behind her ear.
Gilly was staring into the distance after sharing that Ariel wouldn’t be coming back, but had deposited five thousand pounds from her art show into the restoration fund, and wished everyone well. They’d murmured their sympathy and offered support as Kirsten had wrapped a comforting arm around her friend’s rigid shoulders. She was obviously sad, but somehow lighter. Albie was certain she’d be all right.
Kirsten was sitting between Harley’s upraised thighs, resting back against his chest looking content while keeping an eye on Rosie and Laurie playing in the kids’ area. Meanwhile, Vanessa was furiously tapping away on her mobile, attempting to keep up with the furore on social media Harley’s interview and the band’s appearance were causing.
As Albie opened his mouth to thank everybody, the estate agent marched over, expression livid.
‘Well, I hope you’re all happy. What the bloody hell did you do?’ The man’s complexion matched his rumpled grey suit.
Rising to his feet, Albie frowned. ‘Sorry, what do you mean?’
‘The offer that developer made on some cottages has been withdrawn, along with the train station sale. All that new business, gone.’
‘Are you sure?’ Albie held his breath
