I turned the bowl over, admiring the grain and the smooth finish. ‘You’ve been using Cliff’s lathe?’
‘I’d run out of room for storing the big carvings but I wasn’t ready to stop working with wood. I saw this article about a wood-turning course in the village hall newsletter so I signed up for that.’
I had a flashback to that August day when the newsletter arrived. I’d been at my lowest point then and it was amazing to think how much had changed in the space of five months.
‘I spotted that and wondered if you would too. Have you enjoyed it?’
‘Loved it. Wood carvings still have the edge for me – I like the bigger scale – but I’m learning all the time on the lathe so who knows? Do you want to see what else I’ve been making?’
I slipped my coat on and followed him outside to his workshop – an enormous extension to the back of his double garage. He flicked the light on and the first thing I noticed was the metal racking down the side walls, packed full of his chainsaw carvings.
‘So many!’ I exclaimed.
‘I might have a bit of a problem,’ he admitted. ‘Hello, my name’s Christian Wynterson and I’m addicted to carving animals from wood.’
I stepped a little closer and ran my fingers down the plumage of the most adorable owl. ‘They’re spectacular.’
‘Thank you. My lathe work’s on the other side.’
He showed me bowls of varying sizes, salt and pepper shakers, tealight holders and clocks, all of which exhibited considerable skill.
‘What are you going to do with them all?’ I asked.
‘Emma keeps telling me I should sell them. She sells the alpacas through her website but I’ve never got round to looking into the rest of the animals.’
‘I might have a solution for you but do you mind if we go back inside? It’s chilly in here.’
We returned to the lounge and I outlined our plans for Created With Love. Christian loved the sound of it, even offering to cover some shifts while we got established if we found ourselves stuck.
‘I love the idea of a shop for creatives being run by creatives. I know you sew but I’ve never asked you what you make.’
‘Patchwork quilts mainly…’
The conversation flowed as I talked about my sewing, the quilt I’d given to Paulette and the memory bear I was going to make from Cliff’s clothes. Christian talked about the favourite pieces he’d made and how easy it was to look up from his work thinking a couple of hours had passed only to realise he’d been working for four.
This was by far the longest I’d spent in Christian’s company and I liked it a lot. He was easy to chat to, he was open about his past, and he was interested in finding out more about me. I couldn’t read Christian – couldn’t tell if he was being flirty or just friendly. When I’d been with Will, the electricity had crackled between us and I’d never doubted for a moment that he was interested in me so I suspected that, with Christian, it was the latter and that suited me just fine. As nine o’clock approached, I struggled to stifle a yawn, which made us both laugh.
‘Is my company really that bad?’ Christian asked, his tone teasing.
‘Your company has been brilliant, I promise, but my day has been long so I’d better make my move.’
He helped me back into my coat and walked me to the door.
‘Thanks again for the delicious meal,’ I said, stepping out into the cold night air. ‘And for this beautiful bowl.’
‘You’re welcome. Thanks for the great company. We’ll have to do it again sometime.’
‘My turn next. How about I cook for you one day next week?’
‘Sounds good to me. Good night, Yvonne.’
He leaned forward and I tensed. Was he going to kiss me? A wave of panic swept through me. The only man I’d kissed was Will and I wasn’t convinced I wanted to kiss Christian. But his lips lightly brushed my cheek and he pulled away, smiling at me. ‘See you soon.’
‘Night,’ I murmured. ‘Sleep well.’
But as I dashed across the road, I frowned. I’d expected to feel relieved that Christian had only given me a friendly peck on the cheek but, for some reason, I felt disappointed instead. How could that be? Why were my feelings towards him all over the place?
I placed my key in the lock and glanced back. It was touching to see Christian still on his doorstep, as though making sure I made it inside safely. He raised his hand in a wave and I did the same before ducking inside, hastily locking the door and releasing a long breath.
