Page 27 of The Knitting Club at Wagtail Ridge

Bree fiddled with the arrangement of the packages laid out on the trestle table. For the fifth—or was it the fiftieth?—time, she ignored the little voice in her head that said the fearful words,No-one is coming.

‘Bree, they look fine.’

‘Thanks, Nan.’

Rose had arrived a short time ago and was sitting on one of the chairs set around the main table. The two of them had spent some time pushing tables together to create a central workspace that could easily accommodate a largish group. That was optimistic, Bree thought, as she looked at her watch again. The starting time for this first session had been advertised as two o’clock. It was ten to two now, and she and Nan were the only ones in the hall, which seemed very big, very cold and very, very empty. On the smaller table in front of Bree, knitting kits waited for knitters to buy them. She’d made up a dozen starter kits, each containing needles and instructions for a simple scarf. She’d also assembled larger kits, with slightly more complicated patterns ranging from a lace scarf to cushion covers, soft toys and jumpers. These she would sell to anyone who wanted to try their hand at something more complex. There was a mixture of her own alpaca yarn and cheaper yarns for those who wanted them. Some of the knitters might bring their own materials, and that was fine. This exercise was really more about getting people involved than it was about making money.

Always assuming some people will come.

‘Why don’t you go into the kitchen and put the urn on, Bree? So people can have a cuppa when they get here.’

Nan was trying to distract her, and it wasn’t working. Bree had filled the urn and turned it on earlier, while laying out biscuits on plates for the knitters.

What knitters?

A cold gust of air blew into the hall as the door opened and two people came inside.

At last!

Bree immediately recognised her first knitters. ‘Matt. Vicki. Hi.’

‘Hi,’ Matt replied. ‘Are we early?’ He looked around anxiously.

‘No. Not at all. You’re just the first.’

‘Is this alpaca wool?’ Vicki had already found the table with the kits and yarn samples.

‘Yes, it is.’ Rose joined the girl at the trestle table. ‘Hello. You must be Vicki.’

‘How do you know my name?’

‘Bree told me about you. I’m her grandmother, Rose.’

The door opened again and three women walked in. Bree recognised Deb from the pub and the woman from the store, Kelly. The third was a younger woman she hadn’t seen before.

‘Hi, Bree,’ Deb called.

‘Hi. Welcome.’ Bree hoped her relief didn’t show in her voice.

Even if no-one else came, this group was enough to start with.

‘This is Lou, our mobile librarian,’ Deb said. ‘Lou, this is Bree. Alpaca farmer.’

‘My husband is Jake Barnes. He’s done some work for you.’ The young woman smiled in a friendly fashion.

The hall door opened and two more women walked in.

‘Well, I’ll leave you girls to it,’ Matt said. ‘What time should I come and collect Vicki?’

‘Daddy. No. You have to stay and learn to knit too.’

‘Honey, I should go back to the office. Deb and Kelly and Lou are here. You’ll be fine.’

‘I want you to stay.’

‘Honey, this is a girl thing.’

‘Oh, no, it’s not.’ Bree wasn’t sitting still for that sort of nonsense. ‘Do we agree there are no rules telling girls what they can be, like knitters or mechanics or scientists if they want to?’

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