Read Online The Show by Tilly Bagshawe - Free Book Online Page B

ogre for refusing to let his neighbours walk on his land – were up in arms about the idea of having a television crew permanently based there, poking their cameras and microphones in where they weren’t wanted and turning the village into a glorified theme park. Bill would be their voice, their leader. He would shepherd his flock through the danger posed by Gabe Baxter’s rampant selfishness. A Channel 5 film crew in the village didn’t quite constitute the valley of death, perhaps, but one fought one’s battles where one found them.
    Walking away from the window, Bill looked at his watch. Five o’clock. The meeting would start at seven, in the village hall. Although it had not exactly been kept secret, neither the Baxters nor Eddie Wellesley had been informed or invited. The village needed a battle plan, and you could hardly hope to formulate that with your enemy in the seat next to you, dunking Hobnobs into his tea.
    The hall was already packed when Santiago de la Cruz walked in. Despite having lived in the valley for years, the Sussex cricketing hero still turned female heads. His arrival tonight was especially exciting as he’d brought an extremely attractive blond friend with him. In jeans and open-necked shirts, and smelling of cologne, the two of them looked more like rock stars than locals as they made their way towards the front of the room, where Santiago’s wife, Penny, was saving them seats. Only when the blond removed his sunglasses did people realize that it was James Craven, England’s most talented and charismatic all-rounder since Botham.

    ‘You’re late,’ Penny whispered crossly as they sat down. ‘It’s about to start.’
    ‘That’s not late,’ Santiago whispered back, kissing her on the cheek. ‘That’s on time. You remember James?’
    ‘Of course.’ Penny smiled. ‘I can’t believe Santiago dragged you to a village meeting.’
    ‘Nor can I,’ James groaned, rubbing his eyes. ‘I’m so hungover, my breath must be fifty per cent proof. If anybody lights a match in here, the whole place will go up like Waco.’
    ‘But it’s seven o’clock at night,’ said Penny. ‘You’ve had the whole day to recover.’
    ‘You wouldn’t say that if you’d seen what I put away last night. That’s what heartbreak can do to you.’
    Santiago rolled his eyes. ‘Oh, please. Heartbreak? You barely knew her.’
    ‘Of course I knew her.’ James looked hurt.
    ‘Oh yeah? What was her middle name?’
    ‘Esmerelda.’ James grinned.
    ‘Exactly. So stop moaning,’ said Santiago. ‘Besides, you’re buying a cottage here. That makes you a resident.’
    ‘I looked at a cottage,’ protested James. ‘Because you made me. I didn’t buy it.’
    ‘Whatever,’ Santiago waved a hand dismissively. ‘You will buy it. And someone needs to stand up to this lynch mob. Look at them all, just sitting there waiting to rip the Baxters to shreds.’

    ‘I hardly think that’s fair …’ Penny protested. ‘They’re concerned for the village.’
    ‘They’re ignorant busybodies, bitter because Gabe turfed them out of his garden. And why bloody shouldn’t he?’ said Santiago robustly. ‘I think a TV show will be great for the village. Why not? It could mean investment and jobs. Most of them are just envious they didn’t have the idea first.’
    ‘Good evening everyone. Thank you all for coming.’
    Reverend Clempson banged a gavel self-importantly on the little wooden table at the front of the room. With his thinning hair, reedy voice and twitchy, nervous manner, he reminded Santiago of a meerkat. And not in a cute way.
    ‘As you know, filming is due to start on the pilot episode of Valley Farm in a matter of weeks. Tonight’s meeting is an open forum to discuss our response. Hopefully, as a community, we can come up with some practical and positive suggestions.’
    ‘I have a suggestion.’ Santiago raised his hand. His deep, booming Latin voice rang out in gloriously sexy contrast to the