Page 49 of The Wishing Tree Beside the Shor
I don’t realise I’m still watching him until she clicks her fingers to get my attention back. ‘He’s lonely, Fliss. You’re the first woman he’s let in for donkey’s years. Well, of the nonOvis ariesvariety. Baaabra Streisand can sense it, I’m telling you.’
‘We’re just friends,’ I say assuredly, even though the words make me flush warm all over. ‘It isn’t like that between us. It never was.’
Baaabra Streisand chooses that moment to attempt to eat one of the granddaughter’s plaited bunches and the girl squeals in delight as she pulls it out of her mouth and waves it in the sheep’s face, teasing her like she’s dangling a toy mouse in front of a cat.
I’m once again grateful to the sheep for her excellent timing as it distracts the attention from anything to do with me and Ryan.
The granddaughter stands up and Baaabra trots happily behind her new friend. Edie has brought photos of her shop taken over the years, and I search out the daisy carving again and both she and the granddaughterandthe sheep pose and let me snap pictures for the website, as they point at the carving and hold up the aged photos in front of the tree.
I keep glancing up at Ryan and meeting his eyes across the distance, smiling every time until one of us looks away.
‘Eager to get hot and sweaty with him?’ Edie says, ensuring I choke again.
‘There’s a lot of weed removal to be done if we want to reopen the strawberry patch,’ I say when I’ve recovered, deliberately ignoring the implication.
‘I can’t wait to come strawberry picking here,’ her granddaughter says. ‘Are you really going to reopen?’
‘As soon as we can. We’re hoping by the weekend. We need to get the rest of the ground cleared and a bit of sun on the berries, and we should be good to go.’
‘We’ll leave you to it,’ Edie says. ‘But let me know when opening day is and we’ll be here. Nothing better than a freshly picked strawberry.’
Before they go, Alys ropes us all into a game of “Guess the Gadget”, and Edie’s granddaughter wins by correctly guessing the image in question is a heated ice cream scoop and cheers like she’s won the lottery when Alys’s friend messages back to grudgingly give her the point.
Maybe “Guess the Gadget” has the potential to catch on after all.
Alys assures us that she’s quite happy to stay chained to the tree with Baaabra, so I escort Edie and her granddaughter back to the entrance, and the sheep follows until she reaches the end of her lead, and the granddaughter runs back to give her another cuddle, and she bleats forlornly as she watches them leave, then she goes to sit by Alys but turns her back to show her annoyance at not being able to keep her new friend.
Ffion goes to sit with Alys to keep her company. Tonya is at one of the picnic tables near the care home sorting colouring-in leaves, laminated leaves, and flyers into some sort of order that only she understands; Godfrey is recovering from his new-found fame by reading his newspaper and sipping a cup of tea; Mr Barley is doing … something atrocious to a gnome version of Nigel Farage; and Ryan is leaning on his shovel, his forehead glistening in thegoodway under the morning sunlight.
I pick up a garden fork and go over. ‘Busy morning, right?’
‘Oh, that?’ He waves a hand in the direction of the gate. ‘Just a standard day at the office.’
It takes me a while to realise he’s joking and then I overcompensate by laughing way too hard.
‘Seriously, Fee. It fills me with hope.Everyonewe just saw – kids and teachers, residents, Edie – they’reallso excited about the possibilities of this place. They all said they’re going to come here to pick strawberries when it reopens.’
‘A bit of rain yesterday and the sun today and these berries are ripening. Look at that one.’ I point out a glossy red berry not far from our feet. ‘We’re going to have a glut by the weekend at this rate. Do you honestly think we’ll be able to open in time?’
‘Yes.’
‘That simple?’
‘We make a good enough team to do anything.’ He grins and I have to lean on my fork to make sure no one can tell how shaky my knees are. ‘All we have to do is clear out the last of these brambles today, and then lay weed-suppressant fabric down so they don’t regrow, and it gives people a stable surface to walk on.’
‘Did someone say something about the first strawberry?’ Godfrey is behind us even though I’ve been so swept up in Ryan’s pale blue-grey eyes that I didn’t hear him move. I’m also fairly certain that those things in their ears masquerading as hearing aids are actually some kind of radio-controlled signal amplifier that ensures they never miss a word spoken between me and Ryan.
‘What a moment!’ Tonya shouts, jumping up from the table fast enough to send her neat piles scattering again. ‘We need to record it for posterity. Someone special should eat it and we’ll take photos and put them on social media.’
‘Godfrey?’ I suggest. ‘That could be a nice “circle of life” moment? The ex-owner eating the first strawberry from the newly restored patch …’
‘No.’ Tonya sweeps both hands out to the sides. ‘You two!’
I glance at Ryan and he raises an eyebrow. ‘Us?’
‘You two are the brains behind this operation. It’s only right. Here, I can’t bend that far – you pick it and give it to me, and I’ll go and give it a nice wash while I collect my camera.’
Ryan meets my eyes doubtfully, but Tonya is a difficult woman to argue with. I bend down to do her bidding, plucking the ripe berry and dutifully handing it to her. She thrusts it into the air in victory.
