“I’ll save as much as I can for you,” Greg says. “We’d better bring the equipment round.”
We need a lot of equipment for a job of this size, so it takes us a while to transport it from the vans into the garden.
We start with the conifers, using directional cuts to ensure they fall into a clear landing space. Greg and Wyatt feed them into the wood chipper. We’ve been asked to chop what we can into firewood, but I don’t think they realise how much wood there will be when we’re done. We’ll use the oak tree for firewood. The fruit trees go next. Again, they’re small enough to cut from the ground. As they fall, blossom petals blow upwards in a cloud before slowly floating down to the ground. Greg gathers up handfuls of the petals and puts them into a metal tin he found somewhere. It looks like an old coffee can.
We break for lunch. I worked up a sweat during the morning, but now that I’ve stopped, it chills my skin and makes me shiver. I’ve brought sandwiches, but the homeowner insists on bringing us hot soup and coffee. I’m grateful, even though I can tell from my first spoonful that the soup is out of a tin. I’d rather be eating Fitz’s soup right now.
He makes three different ones every day at A Spot of Tea. I adore his vegetable soup, as it contains a beautiful concoction of flavours. It also changes with the seasons. He tries to get all his fruit and veg from local shops or direct from the farmers when he can, which means different vegetables for the soup, depending on the time of year. I wonder if he’ll make soup for our starter tomorrow evening. I know Fitz. He’ll prepare us an amazing three-course meal. I’ll eat every last bite because it will be amazing, and then I’ll be too full to move afterwards. I’m glad I’ll be sharing the meal with him rather than a woman I’ve never met before.
After lunch, we get to work on the oak tree. I fasten myself to the tree and then work my way up to make an anchor point for myself near the top. High enough that I’ll be able to reach all the branches, but not so high that the tree can no longer support my weight. I have a fantastic view across the neighbourhood and surrounding countryside from up here. I let myself appreciate the view before getting to work. It’s one of the reasons I love my job, that and getting to be outside all day. I’ve always loved nature. From a very early age, I knew that I’d hate having to sit behind a desk all day.
I’m able to cut the topmost branches with ease and let them drop into our safe zone because they’re not too big or heavy. Even so, I call out before letting a branch fall and wait for the others to move them before I start on the next one. It’s their job to cut them into smaller pieces and either feed them into the chipper or turn them into firewood if they’re big enough. Not that any of the first branches are.
As the branches get bigger, I have to fell them in pieces rather than in their entirety. Some are so big that I have to rig them so they can be lowered to the ground in a controlled manner. I work carefully and methodically, using precise felling cuts so nothing falls in a direction I don’t want it to.
The four of us chat as we work, as much as we can over the noise of the wood chipper anyway. Luca has a six-month-old baby at home, the youngest of four kids, so he’s being kept on his toes. Greg went to see the latest Marvel movie last night and is trying to enthuse about it without giving any spoilers away. He’s only semi-successful. Wyatt is planning a holiday to the States in the summer. He wants to hire a car and drive coast to coast, starting in the east.
I wonder if Fitz would want to go on holiday with me someday. We have in the past. At eighteen, we toured Europe by train, staying in cheap hostels and campsites. He hasn’t taken time off since he opened A Spot of Tea. Other than Thursdays, the shop is only closed when he’s sick, which isn’t often at all.
We pause for coffee mid-afternoon and then finish felling the oak. The hardest part is chogging the stem. I have to cut it into sections and drop it into our felling zone. Greg and Wyatt move the sections of the stem out of the way and then chop them with their axes, turning them into firewood that’s piled neatly along the side of the house.
We’re finished and cleared up just as the light starts to fade. I’m exhausted, but it’s been a great day. Luca shows the homeowner what we’ve done and checks she’s satisfied with the job before giving her an invoice while the rest of us get everything loaded into the vans. We’ll have to go back to the office next to file the paperwork and unload everything into secure lockup.
When I’m finally ready to go home, I get into my van and send Fitz a text. It’s not something I’d have done before we kissed, but now I find I want to let him know I’m on my way home. My job isn’t without risks, so I wouldn’t blame him for worrying. He probably worriedbeforethings changed between us. Not that he ever said anything.
Me:On my way home. See you in about half an hour.
Fitz:I’m making risotto.
My stomach rumbles.
Me:I’ve worked up an appetite.
Fitz:It’s a good thing I made plenty. See you soon.
I’ve got a smile on my face as I put my phone away. It’s been a good day already, but I know it’ll get even better when I get home, wrap Fitz in my arms, and kiss him.
Chapter10
Fitz
A Spot of Tea has been packed since the moment we opened. It’s not so much sit-down customers making the shop busy but people coming in to buy cakes for Valentine’s Day. I had a pre-order system, but lots of people are coming in on the off chance we’ve got cake to spare. I’ve been here since before dawn, baking for the shop and the pre-orders and haven’t stopped. As fast as I can get cakes iced, they’re being sold. It’s great, but I’m ready to drop, which is no good at all, as I’ve got a three-course meal to cook when I get home. I should have had the foresight to pre-cook it like I did for Blair and Ana.
“Do we have any more red velvet cupcakes?” Janine asks.
She looks flustered.
“Give me two seconds.” I finish swirling icing onto the last batch of red velvet cupcakes I’ve been making and then put some sprinkles over the top. “How many do you need?”
“A dozen. I swear people are mistaking red velvet cupcakes for red roses.”
I chuckle. “It’s good for us.”
I grab two spotty boxes, unfold them, and carefully put six cupcakes in each. Then I move the rest to the side and cover them. Next, I’ve got a batch of pink champagne cupcakes to ice. I’ve got strawberry brownies in the oven, which will need to come out soon, and white chocolate and raspberry cupcakes cooling.
“Has either of you had a break?” I ask before Janine can leave.
She gives me an exasperated look. “No, but nor have you, and you’ve been here longer. We’re fine. It’s just one day of madness, right?” She takes the boxes of cupcakes and leaves the kitchen.
