Page 26 of Match Point in Crumbleton
Lesson learned!
‘Oh wow!’ she gasped as she flipped it open to a random page full of sepia photographs of people wearing tennis whites. They were action shots of a match in progress.
Shifting to put her mug of tea down on the nearby coffee table so that she had both hands free to peruse the album, Cath quickly flipped back to the front and let her fingers trace the lettering there. A fine, flowing calligraphy script read:
Sir Anthony Cheswell Cup
Turning the pages carefully, Cath’s eyes flicked from one photograph to the next. There were lots of smiles and fancy hats. The players all wore pristine whites and wielded quaint, wooden rackets. It looked like a terrific event if the hundreds of happy faces in the crowd were anything to go by.
The next page showed off shots of picnic tables – laden with bowl after bowl of gleaming strawberries and what looked like pitchers of thick cream, though it was hard to tell in monochrome!
Cath sped up, flipping through the pages, and watching as colour crept into the photographs. The hairstyles and hemlines of the crowd might be changing, but the strawberries, smiles and sunshine remained the same right until the last page… as did the plentiful supply of champers served in beautiful vintage glassware.
As though her body was stealing the frozen bubbles from the photographs, Cath felt a curious tingle creeping up her legs from her toes. It was a similar feeling to when she’d ploughed into Andy in the museum to save him from that falling pile of boxes— a sensation of possibility and excitement.
‘But… would it work now?’ she muttered, coming to the end of the album and gently closing its covers.
Something inside her was telling her that this was important. Against all odds, she had a feeling the way to start breathing life back into the museum lay between these pages.
But… she wouldn’t be able to do it without help. After all, she was a newcomer, and even though all of the people she’d met so far had been lovely, she didn’t know nearly enough people to get something like this off the ground.
‘But I know someone who does!’ she said, rolling off the sofa with a bump and scrambling to her feet.
Suddenly, all her aches from shifting furniture the day before were gone, replaced by the delicious fizz of possibility that had now spread from her legs to every inch of her body.
Grabbing her bag, Cath popped the old album carefully back inside. Then, pausing just long enough to gulp the dregs of her cup of tea, she made a dash for the door. After practically tumbling out onto the busy high street, she turned her steps downhill. She just hoped that Caroline would be in her office.
Cath hadn’t been inside the Crumbleton Times and Echo building before. She knew where it was though, having spotted the little courtyard and the door with the plaque bearing Caroline’s name the previous evening when she’d been on a grocery run to Bendall’s.
Nerves fluttered in her stomach as she hurtled through the crowds of ambling tourists, doing her best not to turn an ankle on the cobbles or knock anyone over. Cath had a feeling that Caroline Cook was the right person to run her brand new idea past… and with any luck, she’d be the right person to beg for some help too.
Of course, Cath had only met her briefly over lunch with Andy. What if she’d just been friendly because of him? What if she didn’t want anything to do with her plan?
Cath came to an abrupt halt right beside the steps to the courtyard, almost causing a pile-up as a family carrying an array of fishing nets, shopping bags and super soakers piled straight into her.
‘Sorry!’ said Cath, grabbing hold of the woman to stop her from falling to the ground as her kids ping-ponged off in different directions, all of them giggling.
The woman shot her an amused look. ‘Away with the fairies?’
‘Erm… something like that!’ muttered Cath. ‘Sorry… again.’
‘Thanks for the save!’ The woman grinned and shrugged before following her family down the hill.
Cath gave herself a little shake. She was being ridiculous. She had no reason to believe that Caroline would be anything other than lovely to her again, and even if she wasn’t the right person to help with her grand plan, she’d probably be able to point her in the right direction.
Hurrying up the steps, Cath paused at the door. It was standing wide open, held in place with a metal weight to entice a little bit of fresh air into the building.
Not sure whether she should just wander straight in, Cath knocked anyway.
‘Hello? Come on upstairs, I’m in!’
That was definitely Caroline’s voice, somewhere from deep within the building. Setting her nerves aside, Cath stepped into the shade of the hallway. As soon as her eyes adjusted to the gloom, she headed up the stairs. There was an office towards the back of the building with its door open, and Cath could see movement inside. It was as good a place to start as any.
‘Hi!’ said Caroline, beaming at her from behind a huge wooden desk as she approached. She had her bare feet propped up on the top, her toes wriggling as a little fan blew fresh air in a breezy arc. ‘Cath, right?’
‘Yep!’ said Cath, grinning at the pink-faced reporter. ‘Sorry to just barge in.’
‘Barge away, my friend,’ laughed Caroline. ‘Anything to distract me from the fact that I’m currently melting. You get bonus points if you’ve got ice cream.’
