Page 50 of Love Letters on Hazel Lane

In the office, she went through the rigmarole of booking taxis and hotels and typing up a schedule for a forthcoming shoot, but all the while, her mind was running through the plans for the festival. How many helpers would they need? Who could print the tickets? Design the posters?

At five to eleven, she stretched and decided it was time for a coffee. She could hear voices as she approached the kitchen: Leona was holding court again, telling the others about the filming trip she’d been on. Jo paused by the door to listen.

‘…it was so muddy,’ she was saying. ‘My favourite shoes were ruined.’

‘I usually wear trainers on a shoot.’ That was Hannah’s voice. ‘You’re on your feet so much.’

‘And the cameraman was so grouchy. Treated me like I was his slave. Fetch this, fetch that.’

‘Well, you were there to help.’ Hannah again.

Jo coughed and walked into the room.

Leona’s cheeks reddened slightly. ‘Yeah, I had the best time. You should have seen the size of my hotel room – it was more of a suite. And Hannah, you won’t believe this, but Adam asked me out. You know, the presenter. I’ll be in OK! magazine before long.’

A hotel suite? Yes, but only because that was the last available room. And as for OK! magazine…

Jo felt the irritation – anger, even – bubbling up inside her, and before she could stop herself, she blurted out, ‘Adam the presenter is gay, Leona.’

Leona shook her head and left the room, leaving Hannah and Jo staring after her.

‘Perhaps I shouldn’t have said that,’ Jo said.

‘I thought everyone knew,’ said Hannah. ‘He has pictures of his partner all over Instagram.’

‘His rather gorgeous partner.’ Jo nodded, filling the kettle. ‘Coffee?’

‘Yeah, please. How are you, Jo? We never get chance to speak these days.’

‘I’m good, thanks. Mad busy as usual.’

‘At work? You always seem on top of things.’

‘No, not at work. At home. So much going on. But it’s great,’ she added. ‘I love being busy.’

She left the office that evening the second it turned six o’clock – something she hadn’t done since she’d shared a flat with Gemma – and ran for the train. It was a bit of a struggle to make the train at twelve minutes past, but she made it with seconds to spare.

By five past seven, she was sitting in the waiting room of the health centre. Surgery had finished over an hour ago, but Ras had said he’d still be there, finishing off his paperwork.

He finally emerged from the corridor leading to the consulting rooms. ‘Sorry to keep you waiting, Jo. Now, what’s this good news you mentioned?’

‘I went to the school and we have a venue.’ She couldn’t keep the excitement from her voice, and it echoed around the empty waiting room.

‘The head teacher agreed?’

‘He took quite a lot of persuading. But I pointed out it would be good for the children. And…’

He looked at her quizzically.

‘I’m not sure you’re going to like this,’ Jo said.

‘Tell me.’

She took a deep breath. ‘I agreed the school could keep all the profits.’

Ras breathed a sigh of relief. ‘That’s okay. It was never about making money.’

‘No, I know, but it has to make some money now. The festival is going to be combined with the school summer fayre. Turns out they hadn’t yet come up with a theme for this year. It’s good because it means the PTA will help, but it also puts the pressure on because we’ll need to make at least as much money as the fayre would have done. We can charge people a fiver to enter the tournament, but I think we need something big for the Saturday evening. Something a bit different. Something that’ll entice people to part with their cash.’