Page 2 of The Village of Lost and Found

‘I didn’t know mum’s voice could climb that high,’ said Lucy, blowing out a long sigh. ‘Her stress levels are at Def Con 4 right about now.’

It wasn’t an exaggeration. Her mother had ranted at her for over an hour that morning during breakfast when the story had broken. The words had been pretty awful to hear. Lucy had brought shame onto the family – again – but, worse still, also upon her parents’ finance consultancy firm. As Lucy had known from a very early age, the business was far more important than she had ever been.

Her mum’s tirade had continued until they were interrupted by a call from the hospital. Lucy was listed as Uncle Frank’s emergency contact so she had dashed to the hospital fifty miles out of London to be with him. Good thing too, as her mum had no time for her brother’s laid-back attitude to life. They had never been close. Sometimes Lucy was secretly grateful that she wasn’t the only disappointment in the family.

Her distress at Uncle Frank being in hospital had dissipated slightly once they had learned from the doctors that it was just a small bone fracture in his foot. He insisted that it had been an accident but they were running a few further checks to ensure that it wasn’t anything more serious. Lucy was keeping everything crossed, just in case.

‘I’m sure she’ll calm down,’ said Uncle Frank. ‘My sister-in-law always does eventually.’

Lucy wasn’t so sure. There was nothing worse than bringing shame upon the family business as far as her mother was concerned. As always, the lucrative business that her parents had spent a lifetime building up was more important than their daughter’s well-being. They had moved from place to place throughout her childhood and each new address had become a little more fancy, each house just a little bit larger. Until they had reached the pinnacle of their ascent and were now in the heart of London living in one of the best houses on one of the most desirable streets.

Image and success was everything to her parents. Having their daughter’s photograph splashed across the tabloids didn’t exactly fit with that ideal.

Frank glanced down at the paper on his lap again. ‘I’m sure it was an honest mistake.’

‘The trouble is I keep making them,’ said Lucy, with a sigh.

She looked up to find Uncle Frank still watching her with worry etched across his face. She immediately blinked away the tears that had suddenly appeared in her eyes and straightened up.

‘Anyway, Jamie Watkins is a rotten cheat. I hope his wife takes him to the cleaners,’ she said, trying to sound stronger than she felt. ‘All that matters is getting you better.’

‘The doctors are the best people for that,’ said Frank in a soft tone. ‘But your mum rang me earlier to check up on me and also to have a little chat. She thinks it might be best for you to leave London for a while.’

Lucy sagged briefly. All her life she had felt like a burden to her parents. She had never achieved good grades at the snooty boarding school they had sent her to. She hadn’t been bright enough to make it to university. She had no job experience other than various roles in her parents’ company and even they had been menial tasks. She had no skills to speak of. And now it felt as if they didn’t even want her living anywhere near to them. Lucy felt that nothing was ever going to make them feel proud of their daughter.

‘As it happens, there might be a temporary job for you at a brilliant local newspaper in my lovely home village of Cranbridge,’ said Uncle Frank. ‘And it’s got a very understanding chairman.’

She laughed for the first time that day. ‘Who just happens to be my uncle!’

Frank broke into a grin. ‘As it happens, yes, I do ownThe Cranbridge Times. Grab that other newspaper, would you?’ he added, gesturing at the top of the bedside cabinet. ‘It’s the latest edition.’

Lucy leaned over to pick up the folded newspaper, quickly skimming the front page ofThe Cranbridge Timesto check if her name was on there, but thankfully the headlines appeared to consist of some roadworks and a charity event. The lead photograph was of a man holding some kind of giant vegetable.

She passed it on to her uncle, who was waggling his grey eyebrows at her in a knowing fashion as he took the newspaper from her.

‘You can’t deny that’s one hell of a turnip,’ he said, smiling, as he turned over the front page and handed it back to her. ‘Read the editorial,’ he added.

Lucy took the paper and read all three paragraphs on the inside page quickly. To her amazement, the writing was passionate, confident and informed.

‘Pretty good, huh?’ she heard her uncle say.

She nodded, still staring down at the printed words. ‘Very good, actually. Who’s the editor?’

‘Tom Addison. He’s one of the best I’ve ever come across.’

Yet another high-flying achiever who would no doubt chink her already heavily dented armour, she thought.

‘I’m not the right person for your newspaper,’ she said. ‘You know I don’t have any experience in journalism or anything like that. Why don’t I just stay with you for a week or so until you’re literally back on your feet.’

‘As it happens, the newspaper is short-staffed at the moment. So why don’t you go along and meet the editor tomorrow, OK? For me?’ Frank held up his arm where the cannula was attached. ‘I’m on a drip here, by the way.’

‘That’s emotional blackmail,’ she told him. But she leant forward and kissed his soft cheek. ‘OK. Don’t get your blood pressure up. Or your hopes either. But yes, I’ll meet with Tom Addison before I come and visit you tomorrow afternoon.’

She owed Uncle Frank that much and more besides. But however much Lucy felt that she had reached rock bottom, she was certain that her time in Cranbridge would be short once Uncle Frank had recovered. After all, what did she have to offer a quiet village in the middle of the countryside that no one else did?

2

Tom Addison finished his call and allowed himself a relieved smile before pushing open the front door and heading into the cosy interior of The Black Swan pub in Cranbridge.