Page 57 of The Secret House of Honey and Hope

I have no idea what she wants, but her eyes are unfocussed, again. A new idea is being born inside her head and coming together slowly. So, I make a start on the first hexagon to show her while she thinks and plays nervously with her hair.

“Like this?” I show her a few minutes later.

“Perfect.” And her smile lights up her face. “If you can do ten or twelve in such a way that I can stack them together, like a honeycomb, you know, cells next to each other and on top of one another.”

“I can even magic-drill them so they stick together.”

“No, no.” she says quickly. “I might put them into smaller formations or even separately.”

Just when I thought I understood her vision. “But then it won’t look like a honeycomb.”

“It will, but…” She pauses trying to find the words. “What do you call those wooden pieces that toddlers have to fit together, like pieces of a square?”

“Geometric jigsaw?” I ask.

Her eyes clear. “That’s it. So, if your jigsaw pieces are in the right places but not quite touching, could you still see the overall picture?”

I nod, waiting to see where this goes.

“That’s what I want, a deconstructed honeycomb. I want the entire shop to feel like you’re walking into a honeycomb. With different cells holding different treasures.”

“I am so very jealous of you.” The words are out of my mouth before I realise it.

“Jealous?”

“What you’re creating here.”

“I haven’t created anything; without you, I’d still be on my knees sanding the floor.”

“Anyone can use tools. But you’ve looked at an empty, drab, space and imagined something incredible. You’re not just making a functional shop; you’re creating a living fantasy.”

She flushes a deep red. “You don’t have to say that.”

“Believe me, I work with architects and designers all the time. It’s not everyone that can create a style out of nothing. You’re like Steve Jobs who looked into a world with no computers and saw Apple.”

She stares at me, and her eyes suddenly fill with tears. “You compared me to Steve Jobs, the genius?”

“Just take the compliment.” Pierre comes to join us. “You were wasted in Manchester. You are a true visionary.”

Elodie looks down, her hand playing with her hair again, then she makes some excuse and disappears into the house.

After a moment, Pierre follows.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Hal

“I can’t believe she doesn’t see what is so obvious to everyone else,” I say to Gabriel.

He gives me a long quizzical look.

“What?” I ask.

He doesn’t answer right away, not until after he’s put his camera back in its case. “For the record, this is Pierre’s question not mine, but are the two of you…uh…together?”

Woah, woah. Talk about a googly-ball.

“You mean Elodie, not Pierre?” I joke to hide that his unexpected question makes me uncomfortable.

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