Page 47 of The Shape of Your Heart
Callie listens intently. ‘You could focus on seasonal veg – and you could consider serving mostly home-grown food,’ she added. ‘Maybe bring in bread from a local bakery, and employ local staff and tradespeople? You could also look into upcycling furniture for the tents.’
Her enthusiasm is infectious. ‘This is exactly what I need. Keep going.’
‘Composting loos, natural fabrics, wood burners…’ She stops. ‘Are you going for the giant tepee?’
‘I haven’t decided.’ I’m still weighing up whether the cost is worth it or not. ‘I’ve had another idea, too, because I want someone on site to run everything. So I’m thinking of building a small house – an eco-friendly, one,’ I add hastily. ‘And whoever I employ will be a local person. I have a friend who’s an architect. He’s already agreed to draw up a detailed plan. I should also talk to the neighbours.’
‘I really like the sound of that.’ she says.
‘This is great,’ I say softly. I put down my pen. ‘I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but you seem… I’m not sure how to put it.’
Her cheeks flush slightly. ‘Different? I feel it – like I’m taking all these little steps forward. Facing my fears – some of them, at least. Why don’t you sketch your plan and show me what you’re thinking?’ She stands up. ‘If you’re not doing anything tonight, would you like to come for dinner?’
She goes back outside, leaving me sitting there, utterly confused. Far from taking little steps, it seems that Callie’s taken a gigantic leap. I’m not going to crowd her. I’m going to let things take their course, but maybe there is hope that we could be more than friends – one day.
* * *
That evening, I pick out a nice bottle of wine and, armed with the sketch I’ve been working on, set off for Callie’s house. When I pull up outside, the door is open, the sound of music coming from inside.
I knock. ‘Hello?’
‘Hi! Come in.’ She’s wearing a calf-length dress, her hair clipped back so that some strands have escaped. She takes the bottle of wine I’m holding out. ‘This looks nice.’
‘I hope so. I’ve brought the sketch, too.’
‘I’ll just pour us drinks.’ As she goes to the fridge, I glance around the kitchen. Evening sunlight beams through the open window, while from state of the worktops, it’s clear she’s been busy cooking. She shows me a bottle. ‘Will this do? It’s quite similar to yours, actually!’ She pours the wine into a couple of glasses before passing me one. ‘Cheers!’
‘Cheers.’ I chink my glass against hers.
She sips her wine. ‘Can we look at your sketch?’
‘Sure.’ I follow her over to the table where I unroll it.
Her eyes dart around it, taking it in. ‘This is really good – the drawing, I mean.’
‘And the plan itself?’ I watch her slightly anxiously.
‘It works,’ she says slowly. ‘It’s just, if it were mine, I’d probably do it a little differently.’
‘Such as?’ I’m curious.
She’s silent for a moment. ‘I have a better idea. Why don’t we go down there and I’ll show you?’
I frown. ‘What – now?’
She shrugs. ‘Why not?’
I wonder if her show of spontaneity is another of those little steps forward she’s taking. But with no real reason not to, and with the food on hold, we go out to my car.
‘I’m really pleased you changed your mind,’ Callie says quietly. ‘When you were talking about those houses you wanted to build, you sounded like all the other property developers around here, targeting the second home owners, not caring about anything other than making money.’
‘That’s a little harsh,’ I tell her. ‘We all have to make a living somehow – and those houses would have been environmentally friendly.’
‘This is much better,’ she says firmly. ‘When I next see my dad, I’ll ask him to contact his friend. Hopefully you can meet up with him.’
‘That would be great.’ I turn off the main road into the lane.
‘I really love it here,’ Callie gazes out at the passing landscape. ‘It’s like you have the best of the Cornish countryside, with the river and the sea and the cycle path.’
