by Heidi Swain
‘Look at this,’ said Finn, diving into another box and pulling out a bag of old-fashioned crêpe streamers.
‘Harold’s saved everything, hasn’t he?’ I laughed, looking at the eclectic collection we’d unearthed so far.
There were seasonal treasures of all styles, spanning many decades, contained within the cardboard boxes we had lifted down. Even some of the carrier bags that the foil ceiling decorations and streamers were stashed in were historical artefacts. It had been a while since Woolworths and C&A had graced the high streets, but in the loft their names lived on.
‘And this,’ Finn rushed on.
He sounded as excited as a child diving into their Christmas stocking.
‘This must be the nativity set Harold’s father made.’
We set that carefully to one side along with the fragile angel which, according to a quick online search, must have been at her best in the 1930s.
‘There’s far too much here to put up, isn’t there?’ I said, looking again at the lengths of tinsel, bright glass baubles, garlands and lights.
Most of the lights weren’t wired up to current standards so they were easy to set aside, but as for the rest, it was going to take forever to choose.
‘Why don’t you pick a theme or decade?’ Finn suggested, kneeling next to me. ‘That’ll narrow it down a bit. Or even a colour. There’s enough here to fill the house, just using red decorations alone.’
He was right; I needed a plan. I wondered which things Harold favoured. Probably those pieces he remembered from childhood which, I guessed, most likely narrowed it down to the thirties and forties. There were plenty of glass baubles and even some small crêpe crackers which I reckoned originated from then. Another online search would help.
‘That’s a good idea,’ I said, ‘I just wish I had more time to get stuck into it.’
Nell had finally shuffled into the room. She hadn’t been sure about the tree, but now it was in place and not moving, she’d made her peace with it. She laid her head on my lap and I bent to kiss the top of it.
‘Oh, I meant to say,’ said Finn, reaching to fuss her too. ‘If you don’t want to help with my session tomorrow, you don’t have to.’
‘I wasn’t angling to bunk off,’ I told him. ‘I can finish decorating next week.’
‘Well, it’s entirely up to you,’ he said, ‘but I’ve got some extra help lined up now, so if you change your mind I won’t struggle.’
‘Are you just saying that because you know I can’t hammer a nail in straight?’ I pouted, giving him a nudge and making him almost topple over.
‘No,’ he grinned, ‘and it was almost straight…’
‘If you looked at it with your head bent at a right angle,’ I giggled, nudging him even harder.
He took hold of my hand and we fell together while Nell skittered about.
‘I wasn’t going to mention that,’ he laughed.
‘You’re only saying that because I’ve got you in compromising position,’ I said, as I sat astride him and pinned his arms either side of his head.
‘No, I’m not,’ he said, looking deep into my eyes. ‘I really have got someone else to help.’
‘Who?’
‘Zak.’
‘Zak!’
He took advantage of my surprise to flip me on to my back so he was then on top.
‘Yep,’ he grinned. ‘He said my session fitted his skillset and that it would be a good opportunity for us to bond. Brothers in arms and all that. He reckons if we keep putting up a united front then Dad will have to get off my case.’
Considering what a chip off the old block Zak had been when I arrived in the square, he really had gone all out to stick to the new side of the leaf he had turned over. I might have had my doubts at first, but there was no evidence to suggest that his efforts weren’t in earnest and I was as thrilled about that as Finn clearly was.
‘In that case,’ I said, ‘I think I will leave you to it.’
‘You can spend the whole day decorating the house,’ he said, lowering his lips to mine as I wrapped my legs around his waist. ‘Assuming you aren’t too tired to get up in the morning.’
‘Why would I be too tired to do that?’ I asked, kissing him back.
‘Because you’re in for a very late night,’ he smiled, punctuating each word with another kiss.
Chapter 28
The following morning, I was every bit as tired as Finn had said I would be, but it wasn’t the bone-weary sort of tiredness which descends after a day of digging, rather an exhaustion that you were thrilled to feel, one that left you with a very big smile on your face.
‘Right,’ I said to Nell, as she took advantage of my lethargy and jumped up on to the bed. ‘What shall we do first?’
Finn’s side of the bed was already cold. Before we fell asleep, he had told me he would head back to the studio before it was light, not only because he wanted to avoid subjecting us to gossip, but also because he wanted to check everything was set out in good time for his Winterfest session.
So far, every event had gone without a hitch and it was a testament to how much everyone thought of Luke that they were prepared to go to such lengths, in their own time, to make it a success.
‘How about another half an hour in bed?’ I suggested to my canine companion.
I turned on to my side and pulled the duvet almost over my head, hoping to tempt Nell into falling asleep next to me, but she was having none of it.
‘All right,’ I caved, ‘I get the message. We’ll start the weekend with a walk, yes?’
Given that it was only another fortnight until Christmas, the weather, thanks to a blanket of cloud, was surprisingly mild and I knew Finn would be thrilled about that because he was working in the Grow-Well. I was tempted to call in and find out if Zak had turned up early to help but, not wanting to disturb my beau, opted to send a text instead.
Back at home I fired up the slow cooker before returning to the boxes of decorations. I had promised to feed Finn that evening and knew that a hearty stew, accompanied by a bottle of rich red wine, would be just the thing to revive him after a day spent outdoors instructing people in the art of wildlife home building.
My thoughtful preparations all felt rather domestic, but I didn’t mind that. Finn was the kind of guy who was happy to do his share in the kitchen, so having a fortifying dinner prepared for his return didn’t feel too 1950s housewife, even if the house’s festive theme suggested otherwise.
‘Oh Freya,’ gasped Harold, when Luke escorted him to pick up his angel and nativity set later that day. ‘You’ve taken me right back.’
He had looked thrilled when Luke helped him out of the car and he had spotted the tree positioned in the window and once inside his enchantment had continued to grow.
‘This is just how I remember it from when I was a lad,’ he said, shaking his head as he admired the crêpe paper crackers nestled amongst the fragrant branches of the tree and his reflection in the delicate glass baubles.
I’d put the most fragile, irrespective of their size, nearer the top, out of the way of Nell’s thumping tail, just to be on the safe side.
‘Although,’ Harold added, turning to Luke, ‘we never had a tree this size. Ours was a piddly little plastic thing. I think we threw it out in the end.’
‘This is a real beauty, Freya,’ commented Luke.
‘Finn gave me it,’ I said, instantly regretting the admission, but neither man seemed to take any notice.
I knew that if Chloe, Lisa or even Poppy had been present they would have pounced on that, declaring the gift as a token of love, which in a way I supposed it was.
‘Although I think hired would be a more accurate description,’ I added. ‘It’s in a pot and the grower’s going to collect it in the New Year.’
‘It must be from the same place where I get ours then,’ Luke smiled.
‘Oh yes,’ I said, only just remembering. ‘The one on the green is in a container, isn’t it?’
&
nbsp; I left them chatting and went to make tea. As I filled the kettle, I heard Harold comment on what a lovely job I’d made of everything and my heart swelled.
‘And you think it’s still all there, do you?’ Luke was saying, as I carried through a tray bearing cups and saucers and a plate of biscuits.
‘I’m certain of it,’ Harold nodded. ‘And that thing’s only plywood. You could have it down in a flash.’
‘What’s this?’ I asked, passing around the cups.
‘The fire,’ said Luke. ‘Harold tells me that the original tiled fireplace is still in situ, behind that board.’
‘When that thing was fitted,’ Harold told me, pointing at the ineffective electric fire with disdain, ‘what was behind it just got boxed in. It wasn’t fashionable anymore, but it would have been expensive to have it ripped out so it was just covered up and the board painted over.’
‘Oh wow,’ I said, eyeing the fireplace with fresh eyes and imagining the room properly warmed by logs burning in the grate.
‘The tiles have got some sort of leaves and flowers on if I remember correctly,’ Harold mused. ‘They go all the way around and the hearth’s the same.’
‘Is the chimney blocked?’ Luke asked.
‘Only by old newspapers and the like,’ Harold told him. ‘It would be easy enough to pull it all out and get the flue swept.’
‘What do you think, Freya?’ Luke asked me. ‘Would you fancy reinstating the original fire?’
‘I’d love to,’ I told him. ‘As long as it wouldn’t be too expensive.’
‘I’d bear the cost,’ he said, ‘although I daresay we could do most of it ourselves.’
‘You could even use Lisa and John’s youngest to sweep it,’ Harold chuckled. ‘I bet the little rascal would fit up there a treat!’
‘I daresay he would,’ Luke laughed.
‘Do you think we could get it done before Christmas?’ I asked.
‘I don’t see why not,’ said Luke. ‘It’s not as if a modern sweep makes a mess, is it? You wouldn’t need to clear the room or anything.’
‘The electric fire only needs unplugging,’ Harold pointed out. ‘It’s not wired in.’
‘And I could get the board off tomorrow,’ I said, keen to make a start, ‘after I’ve finished helping Graham with his Winterfest session.’
‘And first thing Monday I’ll ring around and find a sweep,’ Luke nodded.
‘I’d leave the papers stuffed up there until the sweep comes,’ Harold advised, ‘just in case there have been any birds nesting. You won’t a mess coming down and spoiling your lovely decorations.’
‘Your decorations, Harold,’ I reminded him.
‘I think they’ve switched allegiance,’ he said happily, while making a fuss of Nell who was scouting for crumbs. ‘They’re all yours now, Freya.’
Luke cleared away the tea things while I thanked Harold and gave him another kiss on the cheek and promised to look after everything just as he always had.
‘Everything all right?’ I asked Luke, who seemed to be taking ages.
‘Yes,’ he said, quickly closing the sink cupboard door as I walked into the kitchen.
‘Were you checking the pipework by any chance?’ I laughed.
He nodded, looking very much like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t.
‘Zak’s done a great job,’ I told him. ‘Down here and upstairs. There’s nothing to worry about.’
‘That’s good,’ he said. ‘And a weight off my mind. What do you make of his personality change? He’s helping Finn out today and they seem to be getting on really well.’
‘I know Finn’s delighted,’ I told him.
‘But do you think Zak’s going to revert to his formerly flirtatious and mischievous self?’
‘No,’ I said, ‘I don’t. I know I didn’t know him for all that long before his conversion, but he’s neither said nor done anything to make me doubt him.’
‘A peaceful Christmas might be in the offing after all, then,’ Luke smiled.
‘I’m certain of it, and we’ve got the official opening of the Winter Garden to look forward to, haven’t we?’
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘and I’m looking forward to that more than anything else.’
‘Don’t let Jas and Abigail hear you say that,’ I laughed. ‘I think the appearance of a jolly gent in a red suit is the thing we’re supposed to be most excited about at this point in the year!’
* * *
Finn arrived, fresh from the shower, just in time for dinner and carrying a beautiful handcrafted bird table which was yet another gift for me.
‘You really are a man of many talents, aren’t you?’ I said, wrapping my arms around him once he’d carried it through the house and set it up just outside the kitchen window.
‘Oh yes,’ he said, making my knees buckle as he gave me a kiss which demonstrated his artistry perfectly, ‘and you don’t even know about half of them yet.’
I was very much looking forward to discovering what else he had up his sleeve.
‘And given the gorgeous smell in here,’ he smiled, ‘I’m guessing you’ve got few more strings to your bow for me to find out about, haven’t you?’
‘Oh, definitely,’ I nodded, ‘and not all of them confined to my skills with the slow cooker.’
While we ate the stew, which was a melt-in-the-mouth triumph, Finn told me about his day. Everyone had taken something away with them, be it a more complicated hedgehog home or a simple bird box with a slightly skew-whiff lid.
‘It was harder than I thought though,’ he said, helping himself to the last ladle of gravy and grabbing some bread to soak it up with. ‘I’d pre-cut all the kits so it was just a simple construction production line, but some people still managed to make a hash of it.’
‘But you got there in the end,’ I pointed out, ‘and everyone enjoyed themselves, didn’t they?’
‘They did,’ he said, ‘but I was shocked that some of them found it such a challenge. Zak was brilliant though, especially with the kids. Turns out he’s got more patience than I have.’
‘It’s your artistic temperament,’ I teased. ‘You’re used to working on your own now and doing things your way.’
‘Are you taking the mick?’
‘A bit,’ I grinned. ‘I think it’s brilliant that you offered to do the session though, even if you wouldn’t want to repeat it.’
‘Oh, I don’t know about that,’ he then surprised me by saying. ‘I’ve told Luke I’d do it again and Jacob said he’d love me to go into school to do some workshops with the kids. I reckon I’ll have to get Zak to help out with that though.’
I shook my head and laughed.
‘What?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Tell me about your day then.’
I told him how thrilled Harold had been with the decorations and the plans to uncover the sitting room fire. Finn was all for making a start on it that night but, utilising some of my other skills, I managed to convince him to leave it.
* * *
Finn rolled on to his side, opened one eye and looked at me.
‘Morning, gorgeous. Are we late?’ he asked, his voice thick with sleep.
I’d been awake a little while, watching him and trying not to disturb him. It hadn’t been easy as I took in the steady rise and fall of his broad chest but I’d known how tired he’d been and thought it kinder to let him sleep. Even if I did have some interesting ideas about how I could wake him up.
‘No,’ I whispered, ‘it’s still early.’
‘Good,’ he said, sidling closer, ‘because I know the perfect way to start the day.’
Later, we threw caution to the wind and walked over to Prosperous Place, with Nell, together. I found it impossible to stop smiling and happily let my hand sit snugly in his. I couldn’t remember a time when I’d felt so complete and content.
My job was a dream, my house, although not mine, was perfect, I had more friends than I’d ever had before an
d now I had a wonderful relationship with a man I loved. And even though it was a new relationship, it wasn’t all physical. Finn was such a fascinating person. I loved his bravery and his creativity and the way we could talk for hours about all sorts of things. My life was richer for having him in it and even though we’d got off to a rocky start, everything had finally fallen into place and fit seamlessly together.
Thanks to Eloise’s timely beyond-the-grave radio re-tuning, everything had literally come up roses and I very much hoped it was going to stay that way.
‘Are you all set then?’ I called to Graham, having left Finn at the studio door and walked over to the Grow-Well with Nell, who quickly abandoned me in favour of the cosy bothy and the cats.
‘I think so,’ he said. ‘What do you make of this lot?’
Graham’s contribution to Winterfest was going to be a morning spent planting up containers with plants that were guaranteed to lift the spirits, even if you only had a tiny courtyard garden or even just a doorstep. He had sourced trays of pansies, violas and polyanthus in a riot of colours, as well as delicate cyclamens and trailing ivy and a variety of grasses to add structure and texture.
‘Absolute perfection,’ I told him. ‘If this lot doesn’t raise a smile, then nothing will. What about containers?’
‘I’ve got some for people to use,’ he explained, ‘but the majority are bringing their own and, if the emails are anything to go by, they’ve been quite inventive.’
As the group arrived and unloaded their pots, I realised what he meant. The repurposing and upcycling ethos was clearly thriving in Norwich and I was delighted to see it.
‘These are gorgeous,’ I said to Sara, who was looking even happier than the last time I saw her. ‘Where did you find them?’
‘I got them from my brother,’ she told me, handing over a mini keg beer barrel. She had already removed the top and added holes to the bottom for drainage. ‘He had a party in the summer and got through a few of these. He was going to dump them, but I thought they’d be ideal for planting up.’
