JO’S CAMPAIGN

Valerie makes her way cautiously along the towpath, noticing how different the shoreline and the creek look in October. Last time she was here it was August, high summer. Now leaf colours have changed from shades of green to a kaleidoscope of browns, reds and yellows, while some trees, already stripped of their foliage, stand stark and bare. There has been an early frost and the sun has yet to reach this side of the creek so the path is slippery in places.

Near the opposite bank she sees a pair of swans, their reflections gliding beneath them. A heron stands motionless at the water’s edge. Only the occasional cry of a gull disturbs the quiet. As she approaches Iolanthe the rich scent of coffee wafts towards her and she hears Jo’s voice singing along to the radio.

Valerie raps on the hull of the boat. ‘Anyone at home?’

Jo’s head appears at the top of the companionway.

‘You’re here already! I wasn’t expecting you for hours yet.’ She sounds delighted.

‘I woke early – thought I might as well get on the road. I couldn’t wait to get here when I got your message. I hope you don’t mind?’

‘Of course not. It’s brilliant to see you.’ Jo beams at her.

‘I’ve had a good run down. The roads seem very quiet now.’

‘All the visitors have gone, although we’ll get a few over the autumn half term. Come on board but be careful, the decks are slippery. Don’t mind the mess.’

Valerie makes her way carefully along to the companionway. ‘I didn’t think you had frosts down here,’ she says.

‘We don’t very often, and certainly not this early, but the weather’s been so unpredictable these last few years. Sometimes we have every season in the same week.’

Inside, the saloon is bright, cosy and chaotic. Mouse greets Valerie rapturously and Jo gives her a hug. Valerie looks about her. On every available surface are piles of leaflets and A3 size posters. She raises an eyebrow.

‘You’ve been busy.’

‘There’s no time to be lost,’ says Jo. ’I heard from Jacob that Luke Davenport has applied to the council for a temporary licence and he’s already started booking acts.’

‘Jacob?’ Valerie frowns. ‘Is that the old boy who turned up at the funeral?’

‘That’s right. Jacob grew up here. He and Treve were cousins. He’s a bit of a rolling stone, been away for years. Apparently John suggested to Mother that Jacob should help out on Home Farm. He’s done a bit of farming on his travels over the years and Anneke told me John has to spend most of his time running round after Luke at the moment. He’s worn ragged…’ Jo breaks off and bites her lip; staring fixedly at her coffee mug for a moment, then looks up forcing a smile. ‘Anyway, Jacob’s been at the farm ever since.’ There is a brief silence and then she says, ‘Have you had any breakfast?’

‘I’m fine. I stopped briefly near Launceston. A coffee would be wonderful though,’ Valerie replies. She thinks about what Jo has just told her and then remarks: ‘Isn’t it a bit premature, starting to book musicians before the council has issued a licence?’

‘Seems he couldn’t afford to wait. Most big names get booked up months and months ahead. He’s going to be in a right mess if the council decide to reject his application and I gather there’s a good chance they may. I hope so.’ She gives a short laugh. ‘Wouldn’t that make Mother look ridiculous.’

Valerie sips her coffee, sad to hear Jo so antagonistic towards her mother.

Jo continues: ‘Half the village seem to think this wretched festival is a good thing. Morons. They have no idea of the damage it will do. I have to make them aware though. Mouse and I are leafleting and putting up posters later. Come with us?’

‘Sure. My appointment isn’t ‘til two. Where are you putting them?’

‘It’s tricky. Most of the local businesses are backing the plans. The hairdresser will probably be okay to display one in her window, but I guess I’ll just have to pin the rest on lampposts.’

‘They’re very powerful,’ says Valerie admiring the eye-catching graphics and impassioned text.

‘I’ll do a Facebook page too,’ Jo goes on. ‘Remember the kid we met in the community garden when you were here in June?’

‘I do!’ Valerie grins. ‘Lawrence. We ran into him again a couple of times when I came down in August. I think he has a bit of a crush on you. He seems to pop up wherever we go.’

Jo snorts. ‘Nonsense,’ she says. ‘I’m old enough to be his mum. Anyway, he’s a computer nerd which is a big help.’

‘I bet,’ says Valerie and laughs. Jo scowls but then shrugs and gives an awkward laugh.

An hour later the two women, accompanied by Mouse, are busy distributing the posters and leaflets around the village.

‘That’s Wesley Grove finished,’ says Jo with satisfaction as they turn back onto the main street. Anneke is standing studying one of the posters they have pinned up just outside the village stores. ‘Hey Anneke. You’ll support our campaign, won’t you?’ Jo calls out to her.

Anneke flushes and hesitates. At that moment Sylvia emerges from the shop. She sees the poster and glares at Jo.

‘Lot of nonsense.’ she says. ‘This festival is going to be a godsend to the village. Think of all the money it’ll bring in. It’ll be brilliant!’

‘Brilliant?’ exclaims Jo. ‘What about the damage it’s going to do? The bat colony alone -‘

‘Who cares about a few bats?’ says Sylvia. ‘You’re a trouble-maker, that’s what you are. And I’ll thank you to stop dragging my son into this, filling him with half-baked ideas.’

‘I’m not. Lawrence has made up his own mind. Bats are an endangered species, you stupid woman. How can you be so short sighted?’

‘Jo!’ protests Valerie, but Jo shrugs her off.

‘No, this is important. Why can these idiots see what a disaster this’ll be?’

 ‘Jo, that’s enough.’ John’s voice interrupts, quiet but stern. He has emerged from the hardware store and has caught the bitter exchange.

Jo swings round and glares at him.

‘Yeah, you support my wretched mother and her vile scheme. You’re a traitor.’ She turns her back on him. Valerie tries to put her arm on Jo’s shoulder but Jo shakes free.

‘Come on, that’s a bit strong. Let’s go back to the boat.’ She leads Jo away and Sylvia gives a self-righteous sniff before walking off in the opposite direction.

Anneke turns to John. ‘Who is right?’ she asks. ‘I wouldn’t say anything against Mrs Clemens for the world, but does Jo have a point?’

‘She does,’ says John, ‘but she goes about it the wrong way.’ He sighs and adds, half to himself, ‘Besides, she doesn’t know the full story.’

Anneke wrinkles her brow. ‘What d’you mean?’

‘Just that life isn’t as simple as Jo seems to think. I’ve never been able to convince her that her mother is not some sort of monster.’ He shrugs. ‘And she certainly won’t listen to me these days.’ He looks down at Anneke’s anxious face and then says abruptly: ‘Come on, The Clipper’s open and I could do with a sandwich. Join me?’

Anneke looks at John’s thin, weary face. Then she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and smiles.

‘Thanks, l’d like that. I don’t have to be back at Tregethlan for a couple of hours.’

Over at Home Farm, Jacob drives the tractor into the yard and reverses it up to one of the sheds. He climbs down and goes to attach the plough to the back. He is a little weary, feeling his years, but glad to be at work. Karenza is pegging out washing and waves to him.

‘Hey Jacob, have you heard?  There’s going to be a big meeting about the festival. I saw Anneke earlier and she was telling me. Margaret is very excited about the plans apparently. I’m hoping to have a stall and sell some of my stuff, make a bit of extra money.

Jacob shakes his head, reckoning no good will come of this hare-brained scheme of Margaret’s but Karenza is busy with her thoughts and doesn’t notice. She says, ‘Why don’t you take a break? You’ve been up since dawn. Come and have a bit of lunch with Piran and me. I’ve made some soup.’

‘I could do with a bit of a sit down, right enough. Not as young as I was. But can you spare it? What about Kevin?’

Karenza picks up the empty laundry basket and turns back towards her caravan. ‘He’ll probably get something up at the big house. He seems to spend most of his time up there these days, fawning round that Luke Davenport. Think he’s hoping he’ll get intros to all the big names during the festival.’

Just then a little voice calls over to them: ‘Mummy, Jacob, come an’ see!’ The little boy has lifted an old piece of wood in the corner of the yard and is squatting, fascinated.

Jacob goes over to him and peers down. ‘Ah, those are wood lice. Interesting creatures, those little fellas.’

‘Tell me’, demands Piran.

‘You come and get cleaned up and I tell you while you have your dinner.’

After their meal Piran potters off to study his wood lice with renewed interest. Karenza passes Jacob a mug of coffee.

‘How’s it going?’ she asks.

‘Busy,’ he replies. ‘John and I managed to get the upper fields planted with winter wheat this week but there’s still ploughing to be done elsewhere and all the hedges need trimming. Then there’s the animals, o’ course. They have to come first. Have to fit everything else in as best I can.‘

‘It’s as though you’ve been farming all your life.’

‘I’ve done bits of farm work over the years. But it’s John that really knows what he’s doing an’ he’s got so much on his plate right now.’

‘Anneke says they’re going to hold the festival on that open space in front of the big house,’ says Karenza.

‘Aye, but John still has to settle where people will camp an’ where the parking’ll be. We can’t really spare the land.’

‘What about down by the creek? That doesn’t get used for much except grazing.’

 ‘If we have a wet winter and spring it’ll be waterlogged.’

 Karenza hesitates and then says: ‘I thought John looked like he’d lost weight recently.’  

‘Aye, well he’s working all hours,’ says Jacob.

And he’s upset about the rift with Jo, Karenza thinks, but she says nothing. They sit for a moment and then Jacob heaves himself to his feet.

‘I must get on or John’ll reckon I’m slacking. Thanks for the soup – you’re a kind girl. Kevin doesn’t know how lucky he is.’ He heads off across the yard, just pausing for another quick word with Piran who is now playing with some small plastic dinosaurs in a muddy puddle. He gives the little boy a pat on the head.

‘Be good for your mum. No mischief now.’ Piran waves a tyrannosaurus towards him, roaring fiercely. Jacob winks at the child, then climbs back up into the tractor and starts the engine.

*

Chapter 14