Page 11 of Winter at Wishington Bay
‘Eloise.’ They both turned to me as did Billy’s gaze.
‘Sophia,’ I said, looking up and seeing the green eyes of the gardener hover on me a little longer.
‘It’s a pleasure to meet you all, ladies. Now, does anyone need any help?’
Gloria immediately commandeered Billy to help her get started while Barb already seemed to be charging ahead. I got the idea she’d done this before. On our side of the table, the three of us were desperately trying to remember what Doug had said and making slow, albeit steady progress.
‘These are looking great,’ Billy said as he finally managed to pry himself away from Gloria’s chattiness and attend to his other guests.
‘Flattery will get you everywhere,’ Eloise teased him. ‘Won’t it, Soph?’ she added. I gave her a look, but she just beamed back at me.
‘Do you need any more eucalyptus?’ Billy asked, coming round to crouch next to me as he studied my creation.
I looked round at him blankly. His expression was open and friendly and he read my thoughts.
‘This one,’ he said, lifting up a sprig of a type I’d been winding round my frame to start off with, the supply of which on the table had dwindled.
‘Oh! I’m so sorry. I had no idea what is was called.’
‘No reason why you should,’ he replied in a languid manner. ‘Back in a jiffy. Anyone else need anything else?’
A couple of requests were put in and Billy disappeared off to the front of the room where large buckets were stuffed with extra supplies.
‘I think you have an admirer there, ducky,’ Gloria chuckled across the table.
‘See,’ Carrie added, ‘I knew it wasn’t just us. He’s definitely got his eye on her, right?’
‘Absolutely,’ Gloria winked. ‘Lucky girl.’
‘Oh, he does not. He’s obviously just chatty to everyone. It’s all PR. They want people to return.’ I shrugged it off.
‘Well, I certainly think he wants you to return.’ Gloria wasn’t giving up and Carrie and Eloise weren’t helping, egging her on.
‘Ssh! He’s coming back,’ I whispered.
‘Here we go,’ Billy said, laying the eucalyptus sprigs in front of me and popping some more holly that Barb had asked for in front of her.
‘Thanks, love,’ she said, barely looking up as she continued work on what was looking to be a very professional wreath.
‘I think you’ve done this before, Barb,’ Billy said, pursuing the conversation.
‘I do the church flowers every Saturday and I’ve done a few of these in my time, I suppose.’ She smiled up briefly before beavering on.
‘I just dragged her along for company really,’ Gloria laughed. ‘Although I should have known she’d show me up.’
Barb patted her friend’s hand, clearly not so absorbed in her work as to miss the comment. ‘Yours is looking lovely, dear. Don’t be silly.’
‘And where are you putting your wreaths, ladies?’ Billy asked, turning to us three.
‘They’re for a restaurant.’
‘Oh, great! Any particular one?’
‘Yes, Ned’s over in Wishington Bay.’
‘Wow! Wreaths for a Michelin starred restaurant. No pressure!’ He laughed again, something that seemed to come easily to him, his whole manner relaxed.
‘No pressure, really. I just thought it’d be nice to make our own this year.’
