Page 82 of All Wrapped Up
That evening, with the support of a couple of large glasses of wine, I did a great job of convincing myself that as I now had more friends than I could shake a stick at, the loss of one wasn’t really any loss at all. However, when I woke late the next morning, thick-headed and unusually roused by an alarm I’d somehow had the foresight to set, I wasn’t quite so convinced.
‘Blimey,’ commented Joanne, when I arrived at the park, feeling unsettled and rushed, to help get everything set up ahead of the bulb planting. ‘What’s happened to you?’
‘Nothing’s happened to me,’ I said tersely, as I shielded my eyes from the glare of the sun and wished I’d taken a couple of painkillers. ‘I’ve just got a bit of a headache, is all.’
‘Where did you find it?’ she smiled. ‘At the bottom of a bottle?’
‘I had two glasses of wine last night,’ I said defensively, even though I wasn’t accountable to her or anyone else for that matter. ‘Just two.’
‘Lightweight.’
‘I think I’m coming down with something,’ I said, which made her laugh far too loudly for my sensitive scalp.
My phone vibrated in my pocket, cutting off her chance to further tease me. It was a text message and not a very long one.
‘No sign of Ash,’ said Joanne, as she looked around while I read the message. ‘I thought he’d be here by now.’
‘He’s not coming,’ I told her as I tucked my phone away again. ‘That was a message from him, saying he can’t make it because Will is off sick and he’s got to cover his on-call shift for him today and already has someone to see.’
Given our strained and somewhat one-sided conversation the day before, and my current fragile state, I felt relieved not to have to see him again so soon and go to the effort of having another potentially stilted exchange. Especially with Joanne in attendance.
‘That’s a shame,’ she sighed, sounding disappointed.
‘It can’t be helped.’ I shrugged, as if it didn’t matter, though I couldn’t then help wondering if Willreallywas sick, even if the thought did do Ash a disservice. ‘And if there is something going about,’ I further said, before walking off, ‘I really might be coming down with it, mightn’t I?’
Thankfully, given the state of my thumping head, I was in attendance at the bulb planting as a setting up volunteer and participant rather than part of the event management team, and once everyone had been ticked off the registration list and been issued with bulbs and tools (if they didn’t have their own) by Harriet and Rachel and told where and how to plant by the park staff, I headed to my designated space and set to.
It didn’t take me long to make a slit with my sharp trowel, pop a miniature daffodil bulb in and cover it over and, given the tightband still wrapped around my head, the pressure of which increased tenfold every time I bent over, I was relieved about that.
I knew that come the spring this part of the park was going to be a riot of welcome colours and scents, but on a chilly October day, and when I wasn’t feeling at my best, that felt rather a long way off and not all that easy to imagine.
‘Are you done?’ Joanne asked, and I showed her my empty bag and the spot where I’d clustered my bulbs together for maximum impact. ‘Me too.’
‘I wouldn’t have had you down as a gardener, Joanne,’ I commented.
‘I’m not really,’ she said, inspecting her nails, ‘but I thought it would be nice to leave something positive behind when I leave.’
‘That’s really lovely.’ I smiled, feeling surprised that she’d considered that.
Perhaps my thoughts that all might not be well in her world weren’t wide of the mark, after all.
‘A reputation for being a chatterbox isn’t the thing I want to be solely remembered for,’ she then said, making me feel even more convinced that something was amiss.
‘But you have such a talent for it.’ I nudged her, thinking this could potentially turn into the moment to ask her how she was really feeling about her move abroad. ‘And you’ve also had success with your matchmaking which is nice and will be fondly remembered, too.’
‘And I’ll tell you what else is nice,’ she then said, before I had a chance to work my way up to the more sensitive side of things, ‘working in the gallery. I know Lizzie has now asked you to consider working with her once I’ve gone and I really hope you are.’
‘She has,’ I confirmed, ‘and yes, I am.’
Whatever was bothering her, she clearly wasn’t wavering about actually leaving, which was a relief because the evening before, I had fallen to thinking that if I accepted the job and she then stayed, that could be awkward. I knew Lizzie had said Joanne wouldn’t want the increased responsibility she was offering, but even so…
‘Good,’ Joanne said firmly. ‘I mean it. I know I’m not perfect for the role, but I couldn’t have worked for a lovelier team. If I were in your position, I wouldn’t think twice about taking it. Unless you’re thinking about moving on again, in which case you shouldn’t join her, because that wouldn’t be fair to Lizzie.’
‘I’m not planning on going anywhere,’ I told her.
‘Does that mean that knocking the cottage about has helped rebuild your heart?’
I took a breath, but it didn’t abate the unusual subsequent flash of temper.
