by Heidi Swain
Gavin knew his behaviour hadn’t been the best, again, and made a point of calling the hall to apologise the very next day.
‘I’ve told Jemma all about your little flock,’ he told me, ‘and she’s really keen to meet them. She asked if you could go around after she closes the café on Saturday. Is that all right?’
I was fairly certain he was trying to make amends, but, for the life of me, I still couldn’t remember when I had appointed Gavin Garford as my agent. That said, if he hadn’t stepped in and made a nuisance of himself I probably would have never done anything about Jemma’s request.
‘I suppose,’ I said uncertainly.
‘I’ll come and pick you up if you like,’ he carried on. ‘Then we could go for a drink in the pub afterwards.’
‘No,’ I quickly cut in. That really was a step too far. ‘Thanks, but you’re all right. I can get myself to town.’
‘Sure?’
‘Sure.’
‘OK then,’ he said, ‘but if you have a minute after, do come to the pub and tell me how it went, won’t you?’
‘If I have time,’ I replied, feeling fairly certain that I wouldn’t.
‘See you Saturday, then.’
‘Before you go,’ I said hurriedly.
‘Yeah?’
‘Tell me, why hasn’t Jemma called to set this up herself?’
‘She said she felt bad about pressurising you at the switch-on,’ he explained, ‘and I don’t think she wants to push her luck. When she found out we were speaking again she asked if I’d act as a sort of go-between.’
I still couldn’t really believe that we were talking again and I wouldn’t have put it past him somehow to ensure he was down to receive a percentage of any future profits. Not that there were going to be any, because nothing was really going to come of the venture. Jemma would look at my portfolio of little birds and realise she was barking up the wrong tree, and that would be the end of it.
‘Because you have absolutely no reservations about exerting a bit of pressure, do you?’ I responded.
‘Oh, Hayley,’ Gavin laughed, ‘you know me so well.’
Chapter 23
It wasn’t usual for the dinner gong to echo through the hall to announce breakfast, but then December the first wasn’t a usual day, and actually it wasn’t ringing to summon us to our cereal bowls at all.
‘Come on, come on!’ cried Angus, ushering us all into the kitchen.
‘Morning, Molly,’ I yawned. ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you here so bright and early.’
Truth be told, I wasn’t expecting to see her at all. She and Archie were still proving hard to track down. Apparently, they had a lot of catching up to do and plenty of ground to make up, what with him having been away for so long.
‘I stayed over,’ she whispered, tucking her wild hair behind her ears and readjusting the neckline of her rainbow-patterned kaftan.
‘I insisted,’ said Angus. ‘I wanted everyone together this morning.’
Not satisfied with a simple advent calendar of the chocolate variety, Angus, no doubt ably assisted by Mick, had re-hung the elaborate wooden affair he favoured, which had a roomy drawer for every day, and which he took great pains to fill with unique gifts for us all.
‘Morning,’ rumbled a deep voice, making us all jump.
‘Gabe,’ beamed Angus, ‘I’m so pleased you could make it. We’ve missed you around the table this week.’
‘Yes, I’m sorry about that,’ he awkwardly began to explain, but Jamie cut him off.
‘No need to apologise, mate,’ he said, slapping his friend firmly on the back, making him wince. ‘You’re here now.’
I wondered if Gabe had been unwell. He certainly looked under the weather, with dark circles beneath his eyes and his beard, which clearly hadn’t seen a brush in days, was rather unkempt. It had never been the sort of glossy, groomed affair favoured by the hipster types in town, but it wasn’t usually quite so Wildman of Wynthorpe, either.
I couldn’t decide whether it was more likely that his untidy appearance had anything to do with the fallout after our kiss and his subsequent annoyance at finding me in the studio with Gavin, or if it was the after effects of entertaining his mystery lady caller?
‘So,’ said Angus, clapping his hands together and refocusing our attention, mine included. ‘Most of you know how this works, don’t you?’
‘Yes,’ we all chorused.
‘It’s an advent calendar, Dad,’ said Archie, who would clearly rather have been back in bed, ‘not rocket science.’
‘I know, I know,’ grinned Angus, ‘so let’s see who’s first up, shall we?’
I couldn’t believe it when he pointed to Gabe and then me.
‘I thought it only fair that we should start with the two newest housemates,’ he said, beckoning us forward.
‘I wasn’t expecting this,’ Gabe began, looking uncertain. ‘I don’t even live in the hall.’
‘Just go with it,’ I told him. ‘In case you hadn’t worked it out yet, everyone is treated like family, here. We’re all included and if you take the time to join in, you might find you actually enjoy it.’
He looked at me and nodded, and I hoped he had the sense to realise that I wasn’t just talking about the advent calendar. He had made a great start when he moved in, we had made a great start, but since his mystery visitor and my unexpected one, things had gone decidedly downhill.
‘Point taken,’ he smiled, suddenly looking far more like the Gabe I had gotten to know.
‘OK,’ said Angus impatiently, ‘that’s enough faffing. Just open the drawer.’
Some of the drawers were larger than others and the one Gabe and I had been assigned was one of the biggest. There was a parcel and envelope for me and a parcel for Gabe, with another in a bag that Angus whipped out from under the table.
‘Technically this is cheating,’ Angus told us as he handed Gabe the bag, ‘because the presents should all fit in the drawer, but it’s my game, so I’m making an exception.’
We all laughed and everyone crowded around to see what Gabe and I had got. I opened my envelope first and found a voucher inside for Hardy’s in town.
‘I know vouchers aren’t that exciting,’ Angus said uncertainly, ‘but I would imagine you’ve probably got lots of odd bits and pieces for the studio you need to stock up on, so is that all right?’
‘Hardy’s is my favourite place to shop,’ I said, jumping up to plant a kiss on his whiskery cheek, ‘thank you so much, Angus. I know exactly what I’m going to buy with this.’
‘Well,’ he chuckled, ‘before you decide, you better open your present. I’m fairly certain you didn’t buy anything like these when you were last there, but the lovely Francesca told me she would be happy to exchange them for something else if they aren’t quite right.’
I sat back down and picked up the present that accompanied the voucher. It was very light and I turned it over in my hands wondering what could be inside.
‘Come on,’ encouraged Archie, ‘just get on with it.’
I tore into the paper and felt my breath catch in my throat.
‘Oh, Angus,’ I gasped as everyone crowded closer again, ‘this is too much.’
‘My game, remember,’ he beamed, looking well pleased. ‘So, I get to choose what to give.’
‘But—’
‘The special case will keep them safe if you want to paint outside,’ he interrupted. ‘That’s why I went for this particular set.’
I carefully turned them over in my hands. They were beautiful watercolour brushes in a variety of sizes. The brand name wasn’t lost on me and I knew they would have cost a small fortune. If I needed confirmation that he thought my talents were worth investing in, then my generous employer had just supplied it.
‘Thank you,’ I nodded, ‘thank you so much, Angus.’
‘Brushes?’ questioned Mick, sounding as puzzled as everyone else looked. ‘I thought you had brushes.’
‘I have,’ I swa
llowed, ‘dozens, but absolutely none of them are anything like these.’
Next it was Gabe’s turn. His face turned bright red as he tore into his own parcel. Clearly, he wasn’t used to this kind of pre-breakfast ceremony, but he’d soon settle into it.
‘Crikey,’ he gasped, when he finally worked his way through the wrapping and a thick layer of bubble wrap. ‘Wow.’
‘What are they?’ I asked.
‘Chisels,’ he croaked. ‘Wood-carving chisels.’
‘They belonged to my great grandfather,’ said Angus as he watched Gabe running his hands over the handles. ‘I thought I might learn how to use them myself one day so I hung on to them. However, my skills are still woefully lacking and as we now have such a talented woodsman in our midst, I thought I’d pass them on.’
‘They’re beautiful, Angus, but I can’t accept them,’ said Gabe softly. ‘Surely they should stay in the family.’
‘You still don’t get it, do you?’ said Anna kindly. ‘You are family, Gabe. We all are.’
He didn’t say anything else, but began opening the other parcel, which was a leather pouch, worn and soft with age, with a little pocket for each of the chisels.
‘These are truly wonderful,’ he eventually said, ‘thank you so much, Angus. I really don’t know what else to say.’
‘Just promise me you’ll make use of them,’ said Angus. ‘That’s all I ask.’
‘I certainly will,’ smiled Gabe, still looking at the set.
I couldn’t help wishing he’d look at me like that.
‘They all need sharpening and some rubber hose will protect the blades when they’re not in use,’ he said to no one in particular.
Clearly, he knew his stuff when it came to chisel maintenance. Angus looked thrilled.
‘I wonder whose turn it will be tomorrow,’ said Dorothy, wistfully looking at the calendar and no doubt imagining the delights hidden in its drawers.
‘No peeking,’ said Angus sternly. ‘I’ll know if anyone’s been having a crafty look.’
We all laughed and settled down together for breakfast.
Before Gabe headed back to Gatekeeper’s Cottage, he mentioned that he would be driving into Wynbridge in the afternoon and asked if anyone needed anything picking up. I told him I wasn’t in need of a collection service, but if he wouldn’t mind giving me a lift in I’d very much appreciate it.
‘Off to spend that voucher, are you?’ he smiled, sounding very much like his old self.
‘Something like that,’ I played along, trying to match his comfortable tone and not think about the last time we were alone together.
What a godsend that timely gift from Angus was. Popping to town on the pretence of spending it was the perfect cover for my meeting with Jemma, not that having a cover story was going to stop me getting the jitters, but it definitely helped.
‘Are you still decided on what you’re going to spend it on?’ Gabe asked as we set off and I tucked my envelope full of drawings into the footwell, hoping he wouldn’t offer to post them.
‘Pretty much,’ I nodded. ‘And I thought I might pop into the electrical store and pick up a radio for the studio.’
It was a cunning way in, but provided an opening into the potentially awkward conversation nonetheless.
‘I thought you preferred to keep things quiet when you’re working.’
‘I do,’ I agreed, ‘but there’s quiet and then there’s complete silence.’
He nodded, but kept his eyes fixed on negotiating the potholes along the drive.
‘I’d kind of got used to Bran snoring next to me in the evenings and—’
‘Yeah,’ he cut in, ‘I’m sorry I haven’t been around much.’
‘Much?’
‘All right, at all.’
‘One searing fireside encounter,’ I went on, trying to sound more like the old Hayley than I felt and not mention his other cottage companion, ‘and then I don’t see you for dust. None of us have,’ I added, so that he didn’t think this was all about me missing him. The others had, after all, commented on his absences as well.
‘I know,’ he said, ‘I’m sorry. I’ve had a lot on my mind this week.’
‘Such as?’
‘Just stuff,’ he said, looking both ways before he pulled out on to the road.
‘Stuff?’
‘Yeah, you know, stuff. Things to mull over.’
‘Would you care to elaborate?’
‘No,’ he said, sounding as gruff as a Billy goat, ‘not really, but how about you? I have to say I was rather surprised to find you with Gavin.’
‘Were you?’ I gasped, ‘you didn’t let it show!’
‘All right, Little Miss Sarky,’ he tutted. ‘Let’s talk about something else, shall we?’
Clearly our kiss wasn’t up for discussion and neither was the visitor that I was now sure he didn’t realise I knew existed, and I certainly wasn’t going to talk about Gavin and me because there was nothing to say.
‘How are your reindeer kits coming on?’ I asked instead.
We spent the rest of the journey avoiding intimate chat and talked about the Winter Wonderland and the events in town that would precede it. I couldn’t help thinking Gabe sounded a little hesitant when I reminded him about the more family orientated events that would soon be happening, but we both agreed that we needed to join forces to set up The Snowflake Trail so that, I suppose, was a reconciliation of sorts. Not that we’d really been properly estranged, but things had gotten awkward for a while and it felt good to be back on a more even keel.
‘I can hang about to give you a lift home if you like?’ he offered once he had parked in town.
‘No, don’t worry,’ I told him. ‘I can manage to get back. I might pop into the Cherry Tree Café for an early dinner so I’ll make my own way home after that, but thanks.’
‘Fair enough,’ he smiled, looking pointedly at the envelope now tucked under my arm.
I wondered if he knew what I had really come to town to do, but I didn’t risk asking. I was nervous enough already without the pressure of anyone else, other than Gavin that is, knowing why I was really heading to the café.
‘I’ll see you later then,’ he said, turning tail and heading towards the hardware store, Bran, as ever, hot on his heels.
‘Does that mean you’ll come to the studio tonight?’
‘Maybe,’ he grinned. ‘I’ll see how I feel.’
‘Right,’ said Jemma as she switched the café sign from open to closed. ‘Let’s see what you’ve got.’
‘And don’t look so worried,’ added Lizzie, who I hadn’t been expecting to hang about. ‘You look like you’re going to throw up.’
‘I feel like I’m going to throw up,’ I told her.
‘Well, take a moment,’ said Jemma, ‘and I’ll be back in a sec.’
My hands were shaking as I tore open the top of the envelope and slid the few sheets of paper out on to the table. This afternoon had been the longest of my life. I had spent my voucher from Angus, listening to Francesca as I wandered around Hardy’s aisles, selecting the things I wanted, and she had told me how excited Angus had been to pick out the brushes. I then took a trip to the library, before milling about the market until it was time to call at the café. I’d gone to call a taxi to take me home at least half a dozen times, but here I was, about to do what I had thought was the impossible and show Jemma the designs I had come up with.
‘Here,’ said Jemma, putting down a plate and pulling out a chair. ‘Sit and eat this. You’ll feel better for it.’
‘What is it?’ I asked, gratefully sitting down.
‘Cinnamon toast,’ smiled Lizzie. ‘It’s back on the menu for December.’
‘It’s delicious,’ I said, taking a tentative bite and discovering it tasted familiar.
‘Thanks,’ said Jemma. ‘Dorothy gave me the recipe.’
I spluttered, almost spraying my work with half-chewed crumbs.
‘Good god,’ I gasped.
> ‘I know,’ Jemma laughed.
Not that I really needed confirmation, I realised, as I took a sip of the water Lizzie had rushed off to get when I had started choking, but I was certainly talking to the right person if I did want to do something with my designs. It was unheard of for Dorothy to share any of her recipes with anyone, so she must have considered Jemma trustworthy in the extreme.
‘So,’ she said again, ‘let’s see what you’ve got.’
I forced down another half a round of the subtly spiced toast as the two friends silently scrutinised my collection of feathered friends.
‘I wouldn’t have had you down as a garden bird kind of gal, Hayley,’ smiled Lizzie.
‘Wynthorpe garden birds actually,’ I found myself explaining. ‘These guys have been flitting about the garden outside my studio at the hall, and you’re right, I wouldn’t have categorised myself as a twitcher either.’
Jemma wasn’t saying a word so I guessed these little fellas weren’t the sort of thing she had in mind after all.
‘I know they’re probably not the right subject,’ I carried on, ‘but the style is the same as I used for the Winter Wonderland advert.’
‘They’re exactly the right subject,’ Jemma suddenly burst out. ‘They’re gorgeous! How on earth have you managed to pack them all so full of personality?’
‘Well,’ I said, completely taken aback, ‘they’ve done that themselves, I suppose. I’ve just watched them and then tried to emphasise it a bit.’
‘And succeeded,’ she beamed. ‘I love them.’
‘Do you?’
‘Of course,’ she laughed, ‘what did you think?’
I looked at the robin named Gavin and shrugged my shoulders.
‘I don’t really know what I thought.’
‘Have you got more?’ asked Lizzie.
‘No,’ I said, ‘although I’ve made a couple of preliminary sketches of a blackbird and there’s been a flock of fussy long-tailed tits flitting about, who I think might be fun to draw.’
Jemma was looking thoughtful again.
‘Jemma, I know you said you wanted to see them on mugs and cushions and things and then sell them in the café,’ I said meekly, ‘but I have absolutely no idea how to go about sorting that out and, to be honest, I didn’t think you’d know either, isn’t it Lizzie who’s the crafty one?’