[Primrose Bolger]

Ginger was enjoying herself immensely. Ferdy had finally unlocked his tongue and found the words to ask her for a dance. A safe enough line dance for the two of them . . . he bowed, she picked up her skirt a bit and bowed back. There was twirling and mirroring each others steps in time with the other dancers in the line. And of course the shy smiles as they caught each other’s eye . . . and the holding of hands as they ran between the lines of dancers to take their places at the other end. She could see Caity and Minto, a wide smile on his face, dancing in one of the other lines.

From the corner of her eye she caught the commotion as two Hobbits carrying something in a sling trudged up the Inn steps at a quick pace. ‘Isn’t that your Da?’ asked Ginger.

Ferdy took a quick look, dancing was not one of his better skills and he really did have to concentrate. ‘It is,’ he said, his forehead wrinkled.

‘Shall we go see if we can help,’ she asked. Ferdy’s face fell a bit. ‘Well,’ she went on, ‘they do look like they have it well under control. And, oh look, there goes Cook.’

‘She’ll sort it out,’ said Ferdy. He took Ginger’s hand, though it wasn’t part of the dance pattern at that point. ‘Let’s just dance. The older folk can take care of the problem.’

Ginger slipped her hand from his after a few moments then grinned and curtsied and turned her mind back to dancing . . .