head.
‘No peeking,’ I told her, and she woofed in response.
One of the calendars was for her and filled with doggy treats. The other was a hand-stitched and embroidered fabric beauty which Eloise had passed on to me. The pockets were just big enough to hold a wrapped chocolate.
‘Well, now, would you look at that,’ I said to Nell as I unwrapped a strawberry crème and popped it in my mouth, ‘I must have picked up one too many.’
She didn’t look impressed, but then I’d counted out exactly twenty-four doggy treats for her.
* * *
Just as I expected, the ground was frozen solid the following morning and after a tour of the garden and a detour to see if Finn was at the studio, (he wasn’t), Nell and I retreated to the warmth of home and spent the day indoors. After lunch, I was working my way through some paperwork at the kitchen table when there was a sharp rap on the door.
‘Zak,’ I frowned, ‘what are you doing here?’
‘Catching hypothermia,’ he shivered.
‘Sorry,’ I said, quickly stepping aside, ‘come in. The wind’s got up, hasn’t it?’
‘Just a bit,’ he said, rushing over the threshold and bringing a wonderfully crisp smell of cold air in with him. ‘It’s enough to freeze your bits off out there. I thought the walk here would do me good, but I’m not so sure now.’
‘It’s hardly brick-laying weather, is it?’
‘Definitely not,’ he said, nodding to the toolbox he was holding, ‘which is why I thought it would be the perfect time to check out your pipework. The house’s pipework, I mean, as Luke requested. I’ve brought a few bits with me in case anything crops up.’
‘Of course,’ I said. ‘You’re far better off in here than out there and it would be good to get it done. Luke keeps asking if you’ve had a chance to take a look. Let me make you a drink first though and you can thaw out a bit.’
Nell was delighted to see him and we chatted over tea and biscuits before he headed upstairs to make a start. I had no idea what it was that he was going to do. I didn’t think there were any leaks, although the cold water tap in the bathroom sink did have a tendency to drip.
‘Let me know if you need anything,’ I shouted after him up the stairs.
‘Another tea wouldn’t go amiss.’
I set the kettle to boil before carrying on with my admin, but I’d barely started before there was another knock on the door. I looked at Nell and rolled my eyes. Perhaps it would be best to abandon my work altogether.
‘Finn,’ I laughed when I opened the door and found myself faced with the biggest bundle of willow whips, ‘I take it that is you behind there?’
My heart cantered at the sight of him, even though he looked more like an extra from The Wicker Man than a Norse god.
‘It is,’ he confirmed, his broad smile appearing around the side. ‘I wondered if these might be any good for Chloe’s wreath-making session on Saturday.’
‘I’m sure they would be perfect,’ I told him. ‘They’ll make the ideal natural base. Where did you find them?’
He propped the bundle against the wall, making sure it was in a spot where the wind wouldn’t catch it, and followed me into the kitchen.
‘I’ve been to see my mate at Skylark Farm again,’ he told me, which explained his absence from the studio, ‘and then I had to go to Wynthorpe Hall.’
‘Why does that name ring a bell?’ I frowned, reaching for another mug.
‘It’s the place where Luke got his Winterfest idea from.’
‘Oh yes,’ I said, ‘I remember. What were you doing there?’
‘Angus, the patriarch of the Connelly family who live there, wanted to talk about a potential commission. Jake had shown him the pictures I sent him of the hares and dragons and he wanted to talk through the possibility of creating something for the hall.’
‘Oh wow, Finn,’ I smiled, relieved that we had eased straight into a conversation, ‘that’s amazing.’
‘It could be,’ he swallowed. ‘If I can pull it off.’
‘I’m sure you will,’ I told him. ‘Your work is phenomenal, and with an endorsement from this Angus, it could really be the start of something, couldn’t it?’
‘But this is a much bigger project,’ he frowned, not catching my excitement. His reserve echoed some of what I’d felt when I found myself fretting that I’d bitten off more than I could chew with the Winter