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issues. Also Piran Ambrose—
    Pam: A local historian we know well here at Cornwall Radio.
    Audrey: Indeed. Piran has assured the action group that he can prove the historical importance of the Pavilions and—
    Audrey was cut off mid-flow by Piran pulling the plug. Pointing at the now-silent radio in frustration, he turned to Helen. ‘That bloody Tipton woman! I have assured her blasted action group of no such thing – I haven’t even been approached by them. And if she had bloody well approached me …’
    Leaving him ranting at the kitchen sink, punctuating each sentence by slinging one of yesterday’s dinner plates noisily into the bowl, Helen picked up her coffee and tiptoed back to bed.
    *
    Piran wasn’t the only one left apoplectic by Audrey’s comments. Over at the vicarage, Penny was pacing up and down the kitchen in a fury.
    ‘How can she be allowed to say that stuff? Now she’s put my name out there, people will think I’m committed to the cause.’
    Simon ran a hand over his balding head and ventured tentatively, ‘I know she’s put you in a terrible position, darling, but …’ his chocolate eyes took on a pleading look. ‘I’m sure you could phone a few of your actor friends to help, couldn’t you?’
    ‘It’s not as simple as that. These people have lives of their own and busy diaries. Plus they’re swamped with requests to do something for nothing. No – I can’t do it. I won’t. Besides, what time do I have to get involved? We’re about to start filming the Tibbs series – I won’t have a moment to call my own until that’s done and dusted.’
    ‘I see.’ Simon’s expression hovered somewhere between expectation and disappointment.
    ‘Now don’t give me that look.’ Penny hated letting down her loving and devoted husband, especially when he asked so little of her.
    He turned away. ‘Well, I must get on. Things to do.’
    Penny could feel the hot itch of guilt and duty creeping up the back of her neck. Bloody Pavilions, what did any of it have to do with her?
    ‘Oh, all right,’ she sighed.
    Simon’s face lit up and he stepped forward to kiss her, but she restrained him with a gentle hand on his chest.
    ‘No, darling, I’m not saying I’ll do it. I’m saying all right, I’ll think about it.’
    ‘Really?’ He beamed at her in delight. ‘Oh, Pen, I knew you wouldn’t let us down.’
    ‘No promises, Simon. This won’t be easy and I’m not a miracle worker.’
    ‘Oh yes you are,’ said Simon, giving her a hug before heading off to prepare for morning service.
    ‘And don’t forget,’ Penny called after him, ‘I’m doing this for you, not Audrey bloody Tipton!’
    *
    In the Tiptons’ kitchen, Geoffrey was dutifully congratulating his wife. ‘Well done, Audrey. You were magnificent.’
    ‘Thank you, Geoffrey.’
    ‘When did you get Piran on board?’
    ‘I haven’t actually spoken to him – Simon was supposed to do that, but he went about it in his usual wishy-washy way and got a wishy-washy response in return. He can’t go backing out of it now though, can he!’ she announced smugly.
    ‘Aud, you’re a genius!’ Geoffrey was about to say more but was interrupted by the phone ringing. He lifted the receiver: ‘Good morning, Tipton residence – Geoffrey Tipton speaking.’
    An angry voice growled, ‘Is your meddling wife there?’
    ‘Excuse me, but who is calling?’
    ‘Piran Ambrose.’
    Geoffrey felt a squirt of fear in his stomach, ‘I’ll just get her for you.’ Thrusting the phone at his wife as if it were a hot potato, he whispered, ‘It’s Piran – he wants a word.’
    Audrey’s lips, stained with carmine matte lipstick, curled in something approximating a grin. ‘So, the mountain has finally come to Audrey Tipton,’ she said, sotto voce, holding out an imperious hand for the receiver.
    *
    Piran’s truck rattled loudly as he hit a lump of dry mud, left by the tyres of some long-gone tractor. ‘That woman thinks she’s Margaret