Kellie Hailes - The Big Little Festival

Christian’s eyes darted between the two boys. ‘Well, it seems you’re very good at swimming.’

‘I could be better. It’d be nice for the farm to make enough money to not just pay Jack and the household bills, but for the boys and I to go on holidays. Do more than meander around this place. Still, I can’t complain. We’ve a roof over our heads and enough coming in that we’re fed and clothed.’

Christian’s eyes flicked down, then quickly up. Jody crossed her arms over her chest and wished she’d sprung for a better-quality tank top, preferably made of inch-thick opaque material.

Christian, as if sensing her discomfort, changed the subject. ‘So, now we’re out of that tiny, cramped space and at the source of inspiration to remind us why we’re going to make the festival a runaway success, let’s brainstorm. Let’s combine ideas. Work out what we can do with the space and time available, then get the rest of the committee to secure what we need.’

‘Well, I really liked the idea of replicating the Rabbit Revolt. I could design the costumes. There’s a local group that are keen on sewing, the Stitch ‘n’ Snitch club. They come together every week to sew. And gossip. Mostly gossip,’ Jody admitted. ‘We could get them to whip up the costumes. And, like you suggested, the local kids could play the rabbits.’

‘Mum!?’ Tyler wailed. ‘It’s school holidays. That sounds like we have to take part in a school play.’

‘And I hate taking part in plays,’ Jordan moaned. ‘They always make me be a statue of some sort.’

‘Because you can’t remember your lines,’ Tyler snickered.

‘Shut up, Tyler. At least I didn’t have to dance with a girl like you did in the last one.’

‘Yeah, that was gross.’ Tyler stuck his tongue out and faux-gagged. ‘I’m not dancing with girls at the festival. Okay?’

Christian regarded the boys seriously. ‘So, if we don’t have dancing, you’re in? And you think the rest of the local kids will get onboard?’

Unexpected warmth flooded Jody. It was good to see the boys interacting with a man on a man-to-man level. They didn’t get that a lot. Tony was always working, and her farm worker, Jack, was always out in the fields, so their role models were few and far between. A fist tightened around her heart as guilt niggled at her. Would her refusal to give a relationship a chance, to get close to another man, mean they were missing out on something special?

‘We’ll get them onboard. We’ll remind them it’s for the pool and how cool it would be to have bombing competitions once it’s opened.’ Jordan stuck his hand out. ‘So it’s a deal.’

The niggle deepened as Jody watched the boys and Christian solemnly shake hands all round. Christian showing them how to shake hands in an authoritative manner. Why hadn’t she thought to teach them to shake hands like that? They’d be out in the real world one day and if they had wet-fish handshakes no one would take them seriously. She pushed the guilt away. It wasn’t going to help matters, and besides, this wasn’t about them or her, this was about making amends to the community. In a super-secret, stealth manner.

‘Right.’ She cleared her throat. ‘So that’s sorted. What else can we do to ensure this is the festival to end all festivals? A Ferris wheel? A carousel?’

Christian looked up from tapping on his phone. ‘All good ideas. But we need to remember there’s only so much space.’ He stroked his chin thoughtfully. ‘Hmmm, we’re surrounded by hills, and farms, and it’s a fundraiser for a pool. I feel there’s something there…’ He gazed off into the distance. ‘I’ve got it! We could do a giant slip and slide and create one of those makeshift pools using hay bales. People would love it! People could pay for, say, a thirty-minute swim and they could pay per slide. Can’t you just imagine it? They’d come from all over to have a swim and a slide. Hell, we could try and make it a world-record thing. The world’s longest slip and slide.’

Jody found herself nodding enthusiastically. ‘That could be cool. Really cool. And maybe, if we do go for the record, the local news might pick it up and that could bring us some promotion.’

‘Local news? Oh no, let’s go regional. No, national. Why do a little when you can do a lot. More is more, Jody. More is more.’

Christian dropped down onto the grass, then grabbed her hand and pulled her down beside him. Close. Their knees brushed and those volts of energy surged, up her thigh, straight to the area she’d purposefully ignored for the last decade. She inched her knee away, and then pulled her hand out of Christian’s, ignoring how empty it suddenly felt. And how perfect it had felt being held by a strong and capable hand, as opposed to two soft young ones.

‘Jody, this wonderful mural of yours needs to have the people of Rabbits Leap milling in front of it every summer as they wait for the pool to open. And I think the water theme combined with the anniversary of the eviction of the rabbits is going to take this little festival of yours to the next level.’

‘Well, then. Let’s do it! Let’s make it happen.’ Jody paused, uncertainty coiled in her belly. ‘Um, Christian? How are we going to make this happen?’

Christian threw his head back and laughed. Deep, chocolatey. Sexy too.

Stop perving. He’ll leave. They always do, one way or the other. You don’t need that kind of rejection.

‘And that, Jody, is why the town hired me. I can make it happen. You might need to point me in the direction of a farmer who does the old square hay bales as opposed to the round ones. But the rest? I can sort the rest. Just you watch. That’s what Rabbits Leap’s paying me for.’

The uncertainty evaporated, only to be replaced with the urge to tell Christian the truth about his coming to Rabbits Leap. ‘Christian. Can you keep a secret?’

Christian angled his head and gave her a curious glance. ‘I can be the soul of discretion.’

She leant in, motioned for him to do the same, and whispered, ‘The town isn’t paying for you to be here. I am.’

Christian’s jaw dropped, revealing perfectly even, nicely spaced, white teeth. Was there anything imperfect about this man? And why was she thinking about his teeth and general good-lookingness when she’d just told him the truth about his employment.

‘But why? Why you? Why not the town?’

Jody sighed. She couldn’t tell him the whole truth. She was too ashamed. But she could skirt around it. ‘The thing is, Christian, this town has been good to me. When my mother passed away they organised the funeral because my father was in no way capable of doing so. He was pretty much in denial and just set about running the pub as if nothing had happened. Over those months the women of Rabbits Leap were always bringing stews and pies, hand-me-down clothes, anything they thought Tony and I might need. In their own way, and alongside my grandparents, they helped raise us until I got to be older and became self-sufficient enough that I could care for Tony and myself.’ She pulled at the grass, threw the tufts aside, tugged at it some more. ‘When the boys came along they helped me as much as I’d let them. Showed me how to change a nappy, how to bathe them. When mastitis hit, they saw the signs early enough and ensured I was taken care of. And again there was the food and the hand-me-downs. Apparently nobody throws anything away in this town. Even now, the boys are wearing clothing that belonged to Mrs Harper’s sons.’ She brought her knees up to her chest in a hug and looked up into the hills, lush green with swathes of gold where the rape fields bloomed. ‘So when they asked me to take on the festival, I said yes. Without hesitation. I owe this town so much. I owe them the good life I’ve lived. It could’ve so easily gone the other way.’