He lets his knife drop and uses his hand to move mine, pointing out a rough line to follow and the branches that need to come off. ‘Usually there’s much less than this to take off, but you should only have a year’s worth of growth. This time round, you’ve got four years’ worth.’
His voice is barely above a rumble in my ear, and I’m thinking about doing it wrong just so he stays there.
He guides my hand softly until his fingers tighten and he shows me how to angle the knife against the tree and how to judge what needs to come off. All I can think about is the feel of his warm and deliciously solid body pressing against mine.
Come on, Leah. Christmas trees. Knives. Not hot Scottish pumpkin farmers. I think he must wear that aftershave to make sure it’s impossible to concentrate on anything around him.
‘You’ve really got to swing it.’ He manoeuvres my hand in the direction I need to cut. ‘Strong, firm strokes from left to right across your body. Don’t be afraid of getting it wrong. This is something that can’t be taught from a book. The only way you can learn is by doing it. Yes, you’ll lose a couple of trees in the process but that’s part of it. You ready?’
I nod and feel his chin shift against my shoulder. His fingers tighten around mine and raise the knife, bringing it down in a smooth, swift motion, and the tips of the unwanted growth drop to the ground like fallen limbs. He does it again and again, using his feet on either side of mine to gradually shuffle us around the tree, swooshing the knife in downwards strokes, over and over until the overgrown tangle of branches begins to look like a nicely shaped Christmas tree.
Once I’ve got the motion going, his fingers loosen and although his hand stays on mine, he’s no longer guiding the knife, and I’m not sure what feels better – to be doing something worthwhile or to have him standing so close.
When Noel’s satisfied that the tree looks reasonable, he murmurs in my ear again. ‘Now pick your leader and chop the other top branches off. It encourages the tree to grow up nice and straight, and you only need one for the star to go on, so choose the sturdiest and then lop off the rest.’
Even to me, it’s easy to see which one is the best growing tip. I don’t need the support, but his hands splay across my back as I lean up with one knife to hold the top sprig aside, and I bring the other knife up to slash the smaller ones away.
‘Yeah!’ He lets out a whoop. ‘Congratulations, you’ve successfully pruned your first tree!’
I cheer too and turn around in his embrace, expecting him to move, but he doesn’t and his lips are right there in front of mine. I feel him swallow and his arms tighten around me. ‘See, it’s easy really.’
I’m starting to think that running a marathon might be easy if I had his arms around me. And that I might agree to something that crazy if his cologne blocked out all my other senses.
I feel completely lost in his arms. Our mouths are barely a breath away from touching, and when he wets his lips with his tongue, we’re so close that I can feel the heat from it. His stubble is rough against my face, his hair tickling my neck, and his hands tighten where they’re still holding onto mine, and we stand still, neither of us daring to move for a long few seconds.
He suddenly swivels his head towards the tree, his chin pressing so tightly against my shoulder than I can feel the little cleft in it. ‘Only another 5999 to go.’
His words are abrupt, and I expect him to do his usual thing of jumping away and putting as much distance between us as possible, so I’m surprised when he doesn’t move. Instead, he stays where he is, his arms around me from behind so I’m sort of leaning back against him. There’s a giant knife somewhere that we shouldn’t lose track of, but none of it seems to matter as I stand here in his arms looking at the tree we’ve sheared together.
He rests the side of his head against mine and I know he’s lingering this time, and I wonder if he really needed to show me that way or if he wanted an excuse to stand close. It makes another shiver go through me as I try not to think about what it means if he does.
Like he can sense what I’m thinking, this time he jumps and takes a step back. ‘Sorry. Trees release pheromones when they’re cut, I think they’re getting to me.’
‘Yeah, me too,’ I murmur. Because I don’t know what the hell I’m thinking in getting this close to Noel or wanting to kiss him quite this badly. The last thing I need at the moment is a relationship, particularly with someone who so plainly isn’t interested either.
‘Go on then, try one,’ he says before I can think anything else about it.
I shuffle over to the next tree and he comes close again, lifting my hand and positioning the knife in the right place before stepping back. Somehow I force myself to think about what I’m doing instead of how close he is. I feel the weight of the knife, hold it up and look along it to judge the angle. This time when I swish the knife down, I actually manage to lop a few branches off, and after a couple of strokes, the tree starts to look better for it, and I can kind of work out what needs to be trimmed and what doesn’t, and I manage not to cause any injuries to myself or the shin pads.
I also notice with a bit of smug glee that Noel has stopped laughing now, and The Princess Bride pirate references have dried up. He watches silently as I slice branches off all the way around. When I lop the top off the growing tip, I turn and do a bow with the knife, grinning at him, but I nearly overbalance and narrowly miss impaling myself.
I can tell he’s trying not to smile as he walks around inspecting the tree, stroking his chin with his fingers, giving it the severe deliberation of grading an exam, and I suddenly feel ridiculously nervous.
It’s not perfect. I’ve taken a couple of chunks out and been a bit overzealous with trimming the top leader, and it’s taken me ages despite only being a small tree, whereas Noel does even the eight-footers in thirty seconds flat, but it’s better than I thought I could do this morning, and I feel positive about it, like it’s something I can learn and get better at. And I have a lot of trees to practice on.
Eventually Noel reappears from behind the tree and I can tell he’s struggling to keep a straight face – but he gives up far too easily and a smile spreads, making his eyes dance. ‘This is good. You should’ve seen the first one I ever did. It looked like the lovechild of Spongebob Squarepants and Peppa Pig had been in a terrible accident.’
I try not to show how happy his verdict makes me. I don’t need his approval, but his smile and the way he looks genuinely proud makes it impossible not to grin.
Maybe I am cut out for this after all.
Chapter 11
‘Nice, tight wiring. Now place another bunch just below so it overlaps, and wrap the wire around three times to hold it in place.’ Glenna nods in approval at my wreath-making skills or lack thereof. ‘You’ve got it.’
I don’t feel like I’ve got it at all, but I understand her instructions and can see how the wreath will take shape. It’s too early to make fresh wreaths and garlands for sale yet, so I’m practising with a pile of shearing offcuts, the overgrown tops of the holly hedges, sprigs of berries, pinecones, and some ferns that were growing wild. I’m pulling them all together in little bunches and tying them to the metal wreath ring with floral wire, alternately tilting each bunch inwards and outwards so it fills the ring and maintains a nice round shape.
Glenna is an absolute expert wreath-maker. Noel sells the autumn wreaths she makes at the market, and they are so incredible that you think they must be artificial, but they’re not – she’s just that good. They’re laden with orange, yellow, red, and brown leaves, which I see her out gathering around the farm every morning. She’s got cinnamon sticks, pinecones, the crisp orange cases of Physalis lanterns, twigs of Alder cones, bunches of winged sycamore seeds, and miniature pumpkins and apples, and they practically fly off the stall even though they’re one of the most expensive things Noel sells.
She whizzes through a festive one with my supplies and finishes it off with a big red bow from a spool of ri
bbon she brought over.
‘Wow.’ I don’t try to hide how impressed I am as I get my own wire tangled and snap a fir branch by mistake.
‘You’ll get there with a bit more practice, flower. You’re already getting the hang of it.’ She reaches down to stroke Gizmo who’s pottering around our feet in the barn. ‘You’re a natural. You chose all these greens, and even thought of the ferns. I wouldn’t have thought of using them but they work well.’
I blush even though I don’t believe her.
I was lucky to find one of Mr Evergreene’s old stone outbuildings contained nothing but Christmas decorations. Boxes of outdoor lights, tinsel, now-faded festive signs, and tons and tons of supplies, from a box full of wreath rings and wire, to elf hats, bags of jingling bells, boxes of baubles, and hanging snowflakes. It was like everything I’ve thought of to make this place better was already there waiting for me, in the building with the least leaky roof.
‘If I can make enough of these, I could display them on my fence that runs alongside the road, it’d be a great way to show them off.’ I tie my last little bundle of greenery onto the ring and poke the ends underneath the brush of the first bundle to hide them, then I get a bunch of holly berries and slot that in too. I check my watch to see how long it’s taken me.
‘The trick is always to work in the same direction around the wreath so it becomes a habit,’ Glenna says when she sees the face I make because it’s taken me far too long. ‘Pretty soon you’ll be able to do it with your eyes shut. Lots of tree farmers find things like wreaths and garlands are actually more profitable than the trees themselves, because it doesn’t take much time to make them, and you’re using the bits you’ve already cut from around the farm anyway. It’s a great sideline, and displaying them along the fence is bound to attract people driving past with their kids. Lots of Noel’s trade comes from people driving by with little kids in the car and their faces light up at the sight of all those pumpkins and they beg their parents to go in because it’s such a magical sight.’
I make a bow from Glenna’s ribbon, tie three bells together and wire them all onto the bottom of the wreath.
‘See, you’ve got a knack for this. It must be very different from your last job?’
‘Yeah, but that’s not a bad thing. I love doing creative things like this. Before I was sitting at a desk all day, staring at the wall. Being outside all the time makes me feel like I’m living again for the first time in years. My old job was something I left behind at five o’clock every night, so it’s a bit daunting when I think about the next few years and how much work and responsibility this is. There’s so much to keep track of. Collecting seeds from the pinecones in the autumn, sowing them in the spring, and growing them until they’re big enough to be planted out. Preparing the fields, tree fertiliser, weed killer, and nothing’s been planted for four years, so in a few years’ time, there’s going to be a shortage. I know Noel’s looking after some saplings for me, but who knows if it’ll be enough.’ I cut myself off there, suddenly aware that I’m rambling. I’ve tried to appear bright and breezy whenever anyone asks how things are going, but inside, I am scared that I haven’t got the knowledge to pull this off. Christmas tree farming is a lot more complicated than I thought it was. I didn’t intend to tell Glenna any of that, but she’s such a warm and friendly motherly figure. She reminds me of my own mum, and it’s easy to be open with her in a way I wouldn’t with anyone else.
‘You’ve been brave enough to take this huge step – the kind of thing that most people dream about doing but never have the courage to actually do. Don’t underestimate how much courage it takes to throw yourself headfirst into a completely different life. If you can do that, you can overcome whatever else is thrown at you.’
Gizmo stands up on his back feet and paws at my leg, so I put my wreath down and pick him up. I rest my chin on his head and rub his brown ear while his white ear twitches in Glenna’s direction and his nose sniffs for any hint of food he might be able to snaffle.
‘For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing an excellent job so far.’ She gives me a wide smile and nods at the little dog in my arms. ‘And so does Gizmo.’
‘Thank you.’ I don’t try to hide the surprise in my voice. ‘I think I’m floundering around in the dark. I’ve been reading the books I bought and my head is so full. I don’t know how I’m going to remember any of it, and I’m never sure if I’m doing it right.’
‘You could always ask Noel.’
‘I’ve already been asking Noel too much. I don’t know what I’d have done without his expertise and advice, but he’s got his own farm to run and his own business to take care of. I can’t keep asking him all these questions and expecting him to help me with everything.’
‘You came to help us on Halloween night.’
‘But that was just a bit of fun. Who wouldn’t want to spend Halloween on a pumpkin farm when they live next door to one?’ I try not to think about my disastrous pumpkin carving attempts that night – from the hedgehog that looked like Simon Cowell to the bat that everyone thought was a fried egg. ‘I can’t keep relying on him. I need to be able to do this stuff by myself. I didn’t come here so my gorgeous neighbour could run a Christmas tree farm for me.’
I only realise what I’ve said when Glenna’s face lights up like I’ve given her next week’s winning lottery numbers. I did not just admit how gorgeous I think he is to his own mother. I’ve never wished for a sinkhole before, but I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to one popping up to swallow me whole anytime now.
‘He’s one of the best, you know?’ She says after a few minutes of cringingly awkward silence.
She would say that, she’s his mum.
‘I know you’re probably thinking I would say that because I’m his mum, but he’d help you out with anything. Noel’s a true gent. He’d be the perfect man if you could get him to cut his hair and take that piercing out …’
I know exactly what she’s hinting at, but I think she’s about to tell me he’s wormed, defleaed, housetrained, and comes with a puppy pack in a minute, and I haven’t got the heart to tell her that his lip piercing is probably the sexiest thing about him, and his hair is a close second.
She looks at me like she can tell I’m staying silent for a reason. ‘You’re right. Your love lives are none of my business. It’s just that he can be a bit abrasive on the surface, and he pushes people away when he really wants to let them in. I didn’t want you to see the way he protects himself and think it’s the way he is deep down inside. He’s been single for so long now, I think he’s forgotten how to act around women he likes.’
I feel a bit sorry for him with the emphasis she puts on the ‘so’. Before Steve, I’d been single for a long time too – I only wish I’d stayed that way. Good on him for staying by himself rather than settling for someone who wasn’t right.
‘So, how’s the plan coming along for the Christmas tree competition?’
‘It’s okay, flower, we can change the subject.’ She’s smiling when she looks up at me. ‘It’s going well. We’ve gone with your idea of a Cinderella theme. I’ve been buying up all the glass slipper ornaments I can get my hands on, and I’m knitting strings of tiny pumpkins. Noel’s doing something with model train tracks for a moving fairytale carriage. It’s going to look miraculous.’
‘It’s the talk of the market. Fergus and Fiona have made themselves heads of the Christmas tree committee, and all the traders have got involved and started swapping ideas. Apparently, the uptake from nearby businesses has been great too, better than Fergus and Fiona expected. They’re really pleased.’ I can’t help the sigh that escapes. ‘I just want it to help. I love it there. I don’t want to see it disappear. It would change the whole town.’
Glenna’s crinkled face mirrors my sadness.
‘I was thinking about trying to get the media involved,’ I say cautiously. ‘Chelsea’s got a lot of contacts in that area. If we could get some coverage in local papers abou
t the competition and what we’re trying to do … it could really help.’
‘The publicity might encourage more businesses to get involved,’ she agrees. ‘People are already talking about it, and there’s a real buzz in the air that Peppermint Branches is reopening. It was here for a long time and so many people made it a Christmas tradition to come up with their families and choose their Christmas tree. Even us Roscoes when Noel’s father was still alive, and dear Mr Evergreene always let us have the first choice before the farm opened in December. It will be lovely to see it running again.’
‘Noel talks about how magical it used to be a lot. I only hope I can recreate that.’
‘I think you’re on the right track.’ She nods towards the wreath. ‘And I’d be happy to help when you open. I don’t get out much these days and Noel’s always telling me I need more fresh air. I’ve seen you two cleaning and painting the caravan, and he’s told me about the hot chocolate and the chestnuts, and I was thinking maybe I could serve for you, and have a little sideline in my pumpkin jams and marmalades. I’ve always got so many pumpkins to make use of, and it would be wonderful to have an extra opportunity to sell some of my goodies, and I make an excellent hot chocolate if I do say so myself.’
The caravan is now painted with enamel paint I found in the barn, a festive shade of red, and so are my hands, my face, a vast majority of my clothes, half of Gizmo who came to ‘help’, and a bit of the grass outside that escaped the tarpaulin we’d put down to cover it. There’s fake snow draped across the roof, and inside there are twinkly lights around the window, and the broken glass has been removed and replaced with a serving hatch shutter. I’d been wondering whether to hire someone to run it, but time is short, and I can’t justify employing yet another person when I can probably manage it myself between tree customers.
‘I could also make little goodies for your own sales,’ Glenna says like I need further persuasion. ‘Peppermint bark in the shape of trees and some candycane sugar cookies would go down a treat with hot chocolate.’
Snowflakes at the Little Christmas Tree Farm Page 19