Page 10 of Winter at Wishington Bay
He looked like he needed to sleep for a week but I thought telling him that might be overstepping the mark just a little. ‘No, you just look a little tired today.’And the last time I saw you.
‘Yeah. Like I said, I’m not sleeping too great, so you’re probably right.’
‘Is there something wrong with the bed? I can get you different pillows, if you have a preference, or if—’
He held up his hand and caught mine within it briefly. ‘The pillows are fine. Thank you. Everything is perfect. It’s just me.’
‘Oh,’ I said, eloquently, as I tried to ignore the tingles shooting through me from his touch.
From what I’d heard, the separation hadn’t been Nate’s idea. And here I was getting sparks off a man who was clearly still in love with his estranged wife. Jeez, I really could pick them.
‘Don’t get blown away walking back,’ I said, escorting him to the door.
‘I’ll try not to.’
‘I don’t know how I’d explain that one to Gabe, so probably best.’
He gave me a little salute before putting his head down and heading out into the gale. I watched the tall, broad figure covering the ground briskly with long, strong strides until he turned out of sight.
* * *
‘Thanks for coming today,’ Carrie said as Eloise and I settled alongside her at the table. Set up in front of us was an array of leaves, berries, wire and baubles along with a wire wreath frame.
‘It’s a pleasure,’ Eloise said, picking up and putting down some of the leaves, before inspecting the decorations. ‘Although I’ve never really been the creative type so you might have to display my wreath as far out of sight of the customers as possible.’
Carrie laughed, patting Eloise’s hand. ‘I’m sure it’s going to be lovely. Have you ever done anything like this, Soph?’ she asked.
I shook my head. ‘Not at all, but I’m excited to try. Although, again I can’t guarantee I’m going to produce anything worthy of display in a fancy restaurant like Ned’s. Maybe Burger King?’
We giggled together as the glass of complimentary champagne went to our heads and shushed each other as a small group of men came in, all dressed in green jumpers with the name of the hotel embroidered on the upper left chest. An older gentleman with a cheerful face that looked like it had spent many a season outdoors stepped to the fore.
‘Afternoon, ladies,’ he glanced over at the sole chap who had come in with his wife shortly after us. ‘And gentleman.’ There was a murmur of laughter, fuelled somewhat by the bubbles. ‘I’m Doug, the head gardener,’ he held up his hand. ‘And no, I’m not making it up. That really is my name.’ Behind him, his colleagues grinned. One to his left, a tall, good looking outdoorsy type with slightly ruddy cheeks and sandy blonde hair caught my eye and held the grin. I smiled back as I took another sip of my drink and pondered over the wisdom of us skipping lunch today in order to get here in time.
‘Looks like Soph has pulled already,’ Eloise stage whispered to Carrie, as up in front Doug demonstrated how to begin with our wreath making.
‘Oh, I have not,’ I said, giggling along with them. I really shouldn’t drink at lunchtime. Free or not, I was way too out of practice.
‘Perhaps he’ll be able to give her some hands-on demonstrations.’ Eloise widened her eyes and Carrie stifled a snorted laugh. Doug glanced over, gave a patient look with a hint of smile and continued. The other gardener caught my eye and grinned again, giving a quick eyebrow raise as he did so.
‘Sorry,’ I mouthed.
He shook his head and gave a surreptitious ‘OK’ signal with his thumb and forefinger. I nudged the others and tried not to laugh again. Missing lunch definitely hadn’t been a good idea.
As the demonstration came to a close, Doug introduced his helpers, advising that one would be coming over to each table to assist in any further supplies or advice.
‘I wonder which one will take this table?’ Eloise asked, looking pointedly at me.
‘Oh, shush,’ I said and busied myself in collecting the leaves from the centre that I planned to start my wreath with.
‘Afternoon, ladies.’ The deep voice had a soft West Country lilt and I looked up to see that the sandy-haired gardener who’d grinned across at us earlier now stood in front of our table. ‘I’m Billy and I’m here to cater to your every whim.’ He winked at an older lady opposite me who flapped her hand at him. ‘Wreath wise, of course.’
‘We’ve got a cheeky one, here,’ the lady said, chuckling.
‘So, who do we have?’ Billy asked.
‘I’m Gloria, and this is my friend Barb.’ Barbara raised her hand in a little wave, which Billy returned.
‘I’m Carrie.’
