Sam didn’t have to open the Institute because there were already a dozen people in there. Representatives from all those organisations who had come together to make the festival happen. The St John Ambulance, police, the chief steward, local Sea Scouts, WI, technical specialists and the official announcer, a retired local Radio DJ who lived in the town.

Sam thought of Chloe, meeting her granddaughter for the first time. She would sorely miss her second-in-command today, but hadn’t the heart to be annoyed. Moments like that, as Sam knew, were precious … and there were plenty of people to help.

Drew was there, of course, making the tea for all the people at the pre-event meeting. Zennor and Ben arrived not long after Sam. Once everyone had a drink and biscuit in their hand, Sam listened to each person give a very brief report on any issues to look out for during the day. While they spoke, she took a few discreet calming breaths before she said her own words. Finally, it was her turn.

She stepped out in front of the assembled volunteers and had to swallow a lump in her throat. They were an eclectic and faintly comical bunch in their hi-vis waistcoats, freshly pressed uniforms, shorts and woggles. Almost twenty faces, some lined and world weary, others eager and rosy cheeked. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or the significance of the night that had just passed, but Sam felt momentarily choked with emotion. Ben was at the back, peering at her. Zennor popped her head up by his side and mouthed: You can do this.

Sam gave a thought to Gabe. Where was he? Had he found the note? He might be preparing for his stint on stage but she was bound to see him sooner or later. Would he regret what they’d done or be as full of hope as she was?

Sam took another short breath in, then out, tried to look positive and excited and launched into her battle speech.

‘Wow. It’s happening. First of all, thanks for even being here. I’m glad everyone could make it and hasn’t been blown away. This is the biggest festival we’ve ever put on, and I know you’ve all had to work harder than ever to make it happen. All I can do is thank each and every one of you and your teams. Without your contributions, Porthmellow Food Festival would still be a mad idea scrawled on the back of a menu in the Smuggler’s. At this moment –’ she smiled and blew out a breath ‘– I wouldn’t blame you for wishing it had stayed that way.’

Soft laughter and nods.

‘But it is happening so … good luck to you all. I’ll be on the radio all day if you need me for anything and I’ll do my very best to help – or hinder you.