Page 68 of All Wrapped Up
‘What do you think?’ Ash asked nervously as he held it up. Everything was painted in a base coat of brown, but decorated with autumn motifs in orange, red and yellow. ‘I don’t think they turned out too bad for a first attempt and I only hammered my thumb instead of the wood a couple of hundred times.’
‘Youmadethese?’ I swallowed.
‘I did,’ he said, sounding proud, but still a little shy. ‘And the paint job is all my own work, too. Of course, I won’t mind ifyou wanted to change that. It’s not the best, but the woodwork is pretty sound. My old DT teacher would be impressed.’
‘You made these for me?’ I swallowed again.
‘Yep,’ he said, trying to make it sound as though it wasn’t much, but to me it was everything. ‘I noticed your other table was on its last legs, so I thought I’d buy you a new one. Then I thought I’d have a go at making one myself and got… well, a bit carried away.’
I was tempted to throw my arms around him and hug him, but mindful that I’d already spontaneously kissed his cheek just the week before, I didn’t want to overstep.
‘But whenever have you found the time?’ I asked, feeling all kinds of emotional. ‘You’ve just said you’ve been rushed off your feet at work this week.’
He looked at me and I looked at him.
‘Well, I like to keep busy,’ he said croakily. ‘Especially if it helps out a… friend.’
I didn’t know what else to say. The kind gesture and all the effort Ash had gone to felt above and way beyond what you’d do for your oldest friend, let alone a relatively new one. But then, I reasoned, it had been such a long time since I’d had a true friend, I had probably forgotten what went into nurturing this sort of relationship. I needed to up my game.
‘More than helps me out,’ I said, as a van pulled up behind Ash’s truck and Pixie started to bark. ‘Thank you, Ash. Thank you so much.’
‘Is this Rowan Cottage?’ the driver shouted.
‘Yes,’ I called back. ‘Yes, it is.’
‘I’ve got a delivery for you, love.’
I had no idea what it was, because I hadn’t ordered anything.
‘It’s heavy. Where do you want it?’
‘This will be the food I’ve ordered to go with the feeders,’ Ash said to me. ‘Some of it’s come from a farm on the coast near Wynmouth. Hold on,’ he called to the driver, ‘and I’ll give you a hand.’
It took a while to carry the boxes to the shed, decant the contents into plastic crates, set the tables up, finish cleaning and then filling the feeders, but the result was absolutely wonderful. The hanging feeder, gently swinging in the lowest branches of the rowan tree, after which the cottage was named, looked particularly lovely.
‘Oh, Ash!’ I said, clapping my hands in excitement once we’d finally finished and as I took it all in. ‘They look so amazing.’
‘Much better than that old thing,’ he laughed, with a nod to where the old table was waiting to be chopped up for firewood because it was completely beyond repair.
‘I’m totally in your debt now,’ I told him.
‘You can pay me in pasties,’ he suggested.
‘I’ve actually just finished stocking the freezer, so you’re always welcome to drop in for a feed.’
‘I’ll hold you to that,’ he laughed.
‘Do you fancy something to eat now?’
‘If it was any other day of the week, I would have said yes, but I’m saving myself for the feast tonight.’
‘Oh yes, good plan,’ I agreed. ‘I think I’ll do the same. Would you like me to pick you up later? I don’t mind.’
‘That’s kind, but I need to take the truck. I’m on call and the chances are something will come up, so I won’t offer to collect you either, otherwise you could end up stranded.’
‘Fair enough.’
‘I’ll see you tonight.’
