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?’
