me out, and I was further annoyed by the sense of disappointment which hit when I deciphered the silhouette on the doorstep and realised it wasn’t him, but two of my new neighbours.
‘Good morning, Freya,’ smiled Carole, when I opened the door.
‘Morning,’ I smiled back.
It didn’t escape my notice that she had a very official-looking clipboard tucked under her arm and I wondered what I was about to let myself in for.
‘Hi,’ added Poppy, who was standing just behind her, ‘we’re sorry to disturb you on a Sunday.’
Her tone was genuinely apologetic and I wondered if she had headed out with Carole to soften the older woman’s intrusion into the generally lazier start most folk enjoyed on the seventh day of the week.
‘That’s all right,’ I reassured her.
‘Only we spotted you heading out earlier, so we knew you were up,’ Carole said approvingly. ‘Any chance we could just come in for a minute?’
‘Of course,’ I said, opening the door to let them and Gus, who was standing next to Poppy, inside. ‘Would you like a cup of tea? I was just about to boil the kettle.’
‘That would be great, thanks, Freya,’ Poppy smiled.
I led them into the front room and by the time I returned with the tray of tea, Gus and Nell had stopped play fighting and were settled in a heap in front of the fire. The two women were keenly eyeing the bits and pieces I had set out on the table.
‘Looks like you’ve been busy,’ said Carole, with a nod to the A4 journal which was open on a page depicting September at Broad-Meadows.
It was a particularly pretty layout with pressed flowers and illustrations as well as my thoughts on the weather and what was still in bloom.
‘And these are amazing,’ said Poppy, pointing out my pile of preserved leaves. ‘Where did you buy them from? The colours are incredible, so vibrant.’
‘I made them,’ I told her, passing her a mug and offering the sugar bowl and a spoon, ‘well, not the leaves, obviously, but I preserved them in glycerine to help them keep their colour and make them more durable.’
‘Wow,’ said Poppy as she stirred her tea, ‘what do you do with them?’
‘I’ve added some to my journal,’ I said, flicking back through the pages to late summer the previous year, ‘and others I’ve used for display by threading them on to cotton and hanging them up like a sort of natural bunting.’
Carole and Poppy exchanged a glance and I realised the visit was heading exactly where I had expected it to when I spotted Carole’s clipboard, but I wasn’t going to give in. There was no way I could stand up in front of a bunch of strangers and teach, instruct, tutor, whatever they were going to call it.
‘So,’ said Carole, all business after she’d allowed a beat to pass. ‘You’re probably wondering why we’ve called, Freya.’
‘I think I might have worked it out,’ I said with a sigh, my eyes on Poppy, who was still looking through the collection of leaves. ‘You can take some if you like,’ I told her.
‘I’d much rather you showed me how to make my own,’ she said, with a crafty grin.
I’d walked right into that one.
‘The thing is,’ said Carole, ‘we’ve decided what we’re doing for Winterfest, haven’t we, Poppy? And so,’ she carried on, not giving Poppy a chance to answer, ‘we’re doing a quick house to house to see if anyone else has any suggestions about how they’d like to help.’
At this juncture she looked pointedly at the table and back to me. She couldn’t have been any more obvious, but I was still feeling adamant that I wouldn’t give in.
‘I’m sorry, Carole,’ I said, shaking my head, ‘but I’m really not cut out to stand up in front of a crowd—’
‘That’s exactly what I said,’ interrupted Poppy. ‘Selling my recipes on cards in Greengage’s and in the little book Mark and I put together is one thing, but delivering a masterclass in person is something else entirely.’
‘So,’ I said, feeling relieved as I let out a breath, ‘you know exactly how I feel.’
‘I do,’ she agreed, ‘which is why I’ve decided to join forces with Mark. We’re delivering our session together.’
‘Poppy’s going to demonstrate how to make her chuck-it-all-in chutney,’ Carole elaborated, ‘and Mark’s going to come up with a simple festive loaf.’
‘I won’t feel half as nervous if I’ve got him working with me,’ said Poppy. ‘In fact, I’m really looking forward to