‘You don’t know who it is. Stay here.’

Gabe moved towards the opening. She followed behind, but before they’d reached the entrance, the marquee flap lifted and a tall man with a mobile phone emerged. For a fraction of a second, Sam was startled at the pale, angular face until she recognised Ben. A Ben without his Goth make-up on, but wearing his biker leathers.

He lowered his mobile. ‘I was checking the inside of the marquee. I couldn’t sleep a wink,’ he muttered as if he’d been caught committing a crime.

‘Us too.’ Sam joined him at the entrance. ‘How’s it looking?’

‘One of the external guy ropes had worked loose but I’ve fixed it. Inside, it’s looking fine and everything seems to have held so far. I don’t think there’s any more we can do.’

‘I was worried it might have been sabotaged,’ said Sam.

‘I don’t think it was deliberate,’ said Ben. ‘If someone really wanted to destroy the marquee, they’d have done a lot more than loosen one guy rope.’

‘Ben’s right,’ said Gabe. ‘But we can have a quick look ourselves if you want to set your mind at rest.’

‘No. No …’ She glanced at Ben. ‘I trust Ben’s judgement. Thanks for coming up here.’

He shrugged. ‘No problem,’ he muttered. Sam smiled to herself. He might be a man of few words but he was trustworthy and kind. He only needed a bit of confidence … although Zennor seemed to like him ‘just as he was’. Not everyone was an extrovert or the life and soul of the party.

There was a shout from behind and more wavering torchlight. ‘Sam! Ben!’

Zennor galloped over the sodden grass in wellies and a Puffa coat. ‘I heard you go out and I phoned Ben but he was already up here. I came to help.’

Sam flashed the light at her. Spangles shimmered at the top of her wellies. Zennor must have come straight from bed in her sparkly unicorn onesie.

‘Panic over. We’ve checked out the marquee and it’s OK. Thanks for getting up.’

‘No probs.’

Secretly, Sam was crossing her fingers. She was still anxious about the marquee but there was a kind of strange comfort in knowing that everyone else had had the same fears and had turned up too. ‘We’ll have to hope that it stays that way,’ she said.

Zennor pinched the furry hood together to stop it blowing off her head.

Ben lifted his phone. ‘Thing is, I’ve already phoned the marquee contractor. They were called to another marquee on the cliffs above St Agnes because the storm is even worse up there, but they’re coming here straight afterwards to double check everything,’ said Ben.

‘Great idea, Ben. Thanks!’ said Sam, amazed that he’d taken the initiative.

He looked down at the grass. ‘I thought you had enough to do.’