The Great Summer Sewing Bee. Alex Brown

pop with joy before the big day.’

      Sonny laughed, checking his watch and standing up. ‘Well, until then it’s business as usual. I’ve got Barry from the hardware store coming by in a bit so I need to get back into the pub.’

      ‘Oh, it’s early for him. What’s he coming for?’

      ‘He’s desperate for storage space after his cellar flooded. I said he could use our beer cellar. It’s nice and dry down there. And temperature controlled. You don’t mind, do you?’

      ‘Of course not,’ she smiled, feeling much brighter now after their heart-to-heart, the excitement bubbling even more at the prospect of having her dream wedding dress soon, not to mention the gorgeous gowns she had picked out for her seven bridesmaids. But then she remembered the wedding cake that was brewing in the temperature controlled cellar. The best place for it in this super hot summer they were having. ‘As long as whatever it is Barry needs storing isn’t going to spoil our wedding cake.’

      ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘Well, doesn’t he do key cutting and tool hire too in his shop? It could be smelly old lawn mowers he wants storing. He’ll have to use the old barn if that’s the case ….’

      ‘Lawn mowers?’ Sonny creased his forehead. ‘They don’t smell.’

      ‘Petrol ones do. And I’d hate for our wedding guests to bite into a slice of cake and be hit with a horrible petrol taste.’

      ‘Ah, I see what you mean now. Don’t worry, I’ll tell him all the smelly old lawn mowers will have to go in the barn,’ Sonny assured her, shaking his head and laughing.

      ‘Good! In that case, I’m always happy to help out if I can,’ she beamed, not wanting anything at all to spoil their big day.

      ‘And that’s another reason why I can’t wait to marry you. You are the loveliest, most kind-hearted, generous, thoughtful person I know, Cher Hughes.’ And he bent down to kiss the bridge of her nose before ambling back towards the pub.

       Chapter Two

      A week later, and Cher had woken up convinced she could smell smoke. She nudged Sonny before sitting up and pushing the duvet back. It was nearly three o’clock in the morning according to the clock on the bedside table.

      ‘No, I can’t smell smoke. Go back to sleep, love,’ murmured Sonny, only half awake.

      ‘I’m going to check. I’m sure I can smell it – I bet there’s someone outside smoking. It smells like cigarette smoke wafting in through the open window,’ she sighed.

      Standing up she found her dressing gown, slipped it on over her nightie and went to the open window to look outside. Their bedroom was to the side of the pub where the car park was and it wouldn’t be the first time she had caught groups of lads from Stoneley, the next village, hanging out on their mopeds and sharing cans of lager.

      ‘Oh come on, Cher, it’s the middle of the night. I’m exhausted and you must be too.’

      ‘I can’t see anyone in the car park,’ she said, ignoring him.

      ‘There you go. Maybe you were dreaming. Come on, snuggle up next to me. Let’s have a cuddle and we’ll both be fast asleep in no time.’

      ‘No, I can’t sleep now that I’m wide awake. I’m going to make a cup of chamomile tea and see if that helps me get back to sleep. Fancy one?’

      ‘Err, no! I was actually already asleep until a few minutes ago.’ And he turned over and gave his pillows a dramatic thwack as if to emphasise his disgruntlement at being woken up so abruptly.

      ‘Sorry love, I didn’t mean to wake you up. Go back to sleep. I’ll sit downstairs where it’s cooler.’ And she tiptoed out of the room.

      BANG. BANG. BANG. Cher blinked and opened her eyes before going to roll over, only realising at the last minute that she wasn’t in her bed. She was snuggled up on one of the big squishy sofas in the snug. Sitting up sharply and gathering herself, she realised that the chamomile tea must have had the desired effect and that she had nodded off briefly after drinking it. She glanced at the empty mug beside her on the table. What time is it? And what is that noise? The banging started again. It was coming from outside the pub so she left the comfort of the sofa and went to open the door, fully intending on giving whoever it was that had woken her up, a piece of her mind. Surely they didn’t think the pub was still open? But then she realised that the lights in the snug were on. Perhaps the person banging on the door thought there was a lock-in. She knew that Sonny sometimes let a few of the well-behaved regulars from the village stay on after normal closing time on the proviso they were quiet and sensible and didn’t wake up Mark, the village police officer who lived in the police house on the opposite side of the village green, on their way home. This usually happened when she was away visiting her mum or on a training course at the brewery, as late night drinking sessions really weren’t her thing. She liked to feel fresh and alert the next day, not weary after an extra late night.

      There it was again.

      BANG. BANG. BANG.

      The noise was deafening and quite urgent.

      They were rattling the door now as if trying to get in.

      ‘OK, I’m coming,’ Cher said, feeling irritable and tired from nodding off and now being woken up. She knew it couldn’t be one of the locals as they would never make such a racket at this time of night.

      ‘Cher? Sonny? Are you in there?’

      Dr Ben?

      She recognised the voice, his Dublin accent was very distinctive. But what was he doing making such a commotion at this time of night? And then a dart of fear shot through her, maybe something had happened to Sybs, or the twins? And there was that acrid smell again, stronger this time?

      After reaching a hand up to slide the bolt across, the door burst open, almost knocking her over as Dr Ben came charging into the bar with a panicked look on his face.

      ‘Come on. You need to get out of here. Where’s Sonny?’ And Dr Ben darted off towards the door behind the bar that led to the stairs up to their private home.

      ‘Hey, what’s going on? Is everything OK?’ Cher called after him.

      ‘I’m not sure,’ he called out over his shoulder. ‘There’s smoke coming from the wooden drop doors outside. I spotted it as I was walking past after doing a home visit. There could be a fire in the cellar.’

      ‘A fire?’ Panicking, Cher went to run past him to get Sonny. But just as they jostled each other to get through the tiny doorway, an almighty popping sound, followed by an even louder whooshing noise, made them both freeze. Momentarily stunned, they stared at each other before Cher yelled, ‘What on earth was that? We need the fire brigade!’

      ‘I’ve already made the call,’ Dr Ben said, hurriedly, before mounting the stairs two at a time, shouting for Sonny to wake up and get out. Cher hurtled after him, ignoring protests from Dr Ben about it not being safe. There was no way she was leaving the pub without the man she loved and was going to marry in two weeks time.

      Moments later, and Sonny was out of bed and tearing down the stairs after Dr Ben and Cher. On reaching the back door, Sonny grabbed Cher’s hand and they ran out into the pub garden together, closely followed by Dr Ben. Mark, the village police officer appeared, running across the garden towards them in shorts and a T-shirt.

      ‘Get out. The fire engine is moments away. Quickly. Follow me.’ And he herded Sonny, Cher and Dr Ben to safety through the pub garden, over the fence, across the car park and on to the village green.

      Later, and shivering with shock, Cher wrapped her arms around herself and gawped at her lovely pub that was now shrouded in thick black smoke billowing out of the beer cellar’s