‘Meaning?’ His eyebrows drew together.
‘We shouldn’t hold onto treasured possessions if it prevents us making space for new ones.’
He paused, before asking, ‘Are we still talking about the lamp?’
Wry amusement spread across her face. ‘You know we’re not.’ Straightening the sleeves of her blue silk dress, 1940s style with small shoulder pads and a matching bow belt, she nodded at the stairs. ‘Are you giving me the grand tour, or not?’
‘It was only completed yesterday,’ Albie explained on a puff of pride, after guiding Clover around the cottage. He’d enjoyed showing off the mixture of white-washed walls and wallpapered rooms, the Victorian-style claw-footed bath, an iron bedstead in the main bedroom, and the rich woven rugs laid out on gleaming polished floors. The teal Salcombe Blue AGA range was the focal point of the kitchen, and copper pans he’d picked out hung from a rack on the low-beamed ceiling. All in all, he was delighted with how Friendship Cottage had turned out.
‘You’ve done well, it’s quite an achievement. The building looks picture-book perfect from the outside. I can’t wait to see it at Christmas, and the inside has a striking aesthetic.’ Clover leaned back against the solid oak dining table, lipsticked mouth curving.
‘I can’t take all the credit.’ He waved a hand. ‘Never could have done this without the builders and association members. Over the past few days, we pulled together to finish it off, including arranging the furniture to make it welcoming and homey.’ In line with Rose’s rule for living about making beautiful spaces, which he’d picked as today’s advice.
‘I believe it’s called staging.’ Giving him a once-over, she tacked on, ‘You’re quite good at that yourself. I love today’s outfit.’
‘Oh. Thank you.’ He glanced down at his monochrome wingtip shoes, pleated navy trousers, plaid jacket and beige waistcoat, with red tie and white shirt. A black fedora was perched on his head. ‘It’s one of my favourites. Although Harley did ask me earlier why I was dressed like Al Capone.’
Clover threw back her head and laughed in a rich tone. For a moment, Albie was transfixed, wishing he was a young man again and could sweep her off her feet. Of course, it would be entirely inappropriate at their age. Wouldn’t it? And could he honestly imagine romancing anyone but Rose?
‘He does have a dry sense of humour,’ Clover said, bringing Albie’s attention back to their conversation. ‘So, now you’ve created such a beautiful place, what are you planning to do with it? Presumably you’re not moving in, as you have the flat?’
‘I’ll stay in the manor, but aim to rent the cottage out eventually. In the short-term, we could take pictures, put them online, and invite people to come and look around? History buffs perhaps, to start with. We held an ad hoc commonhold association meeting outside the building that looks like an inn earlier. Sorry, you didn’t answer your mobile, otherwise you’d have been welcome. Anyway, we think if we can get more people involved in the local area, show we have visitors taking an interest in the cottages, the developer will find it difficult demolishing any of the seven vacant ones they manage to buy. A public outcry could make them more inclined to build elsewhere. Of course, this all depends on us moving up the timescale for finishing our own cottages. We’re aiming to complete one every fortnight.’
Her expression was both impressed and worried. ‘I’m the type of woman who likes a challenge, but that sound quite ambitious.’
‘It is.’ Taking his fedora off, he spun it between his hands. ‘However, it should be doable as the foreman can bring in crewfrom other contracts, and has a network of reliable tradesmen. Gilly and Ariel are also making rapid progress stripping wallpaper, plus Kit and Theo have moved their efforts from clearing all the front gardens to clearing out the rest of the buildings.’
‘Hmm.’ She tapped a finger on her chin in anI wondergesture. ‘And what are you going to do with your back garden? A bit of a mess, isn’t it?’
‘We focused on the interior over the past week, so it’s still on my list,’ he admitted, perching his hat back on his head. ‘Not been out there for a while, that square patch of brown grass is distinctly uninspiring.’
‘Perhaps we should take a look.’ Clover walked over and unlocked the back door, striking a movie star pose with one hand on her hip as she repeated his earlier words to him. ‘After you.’
‘Erm, I should head up to the manor. I’m already late for dinner.’ Why did she make him so nervous?
‘We can’t have you going hungry,’ she responded with a little smile, ‘but I’m sure it will keep for a few minutes. Come on, Albie-never-Albert, humour a girl?’
‘All right,’ he replied, wondering why she was so adamant, ‘if you insist.’ Shuffling past her, he stepped outside, expecting his feet to sink into damp grass. Instead, there was solid wood. ‘Heh?’
Behind him, Clover pressed a switch and said, ‘Ta-da!’ The space lit up against the blue-violet evening twilight, and two spotlights mounted into the cottage wall above them illuminated the newly constructed decking. Clicking another switch as he gaped in bemusement, a multitude of fairy lights twinkled in the air, hanging from tall posts in the four corners of the lawn. Even better was the grass designed in curving manicured swirls dotted with rose bushes packed densely with ivory, pale yellow and pinkblooms. ‘I-I don’t know what to say.’ It was wondrous, magical. ‘It’s such a beautiful space. Who did all of this?’
Clover’s face flushed with pleasure. ‘Moi, with the help of some association members and a couple of professional landscapers I roped in from the Happy Café. It was extremely difficult keeping it secret from you, and we were almost discovered a few times. Didn’t you wonder why Steve was so insistent the kitchen blinds stay shut, and why the back door was never open, even with the sunny spell over the past few days?’
‘No. I was too focused on what was going on in here.’
‘Well, from the look on your face, it was worth the skulking around. Also, I know how much you love roses.’
‘Yes. My late wife was obsessed with them. Always said they had a dazzling elegance. Her parents were big fans too. Hence the walled garden, and her name.’ Tangled emotions twisted in his chest, and his eyes grew unaccountably damp. Joy. Gratitude. Pain. Poignancy. He didn’t know which to deal with first. ‘I don’t know how to express my appreciation,’ he sniffed. ‘This is special. Thank you very much.’
Reaching out, she touched his elbow. ‘That’s all I need.’
He swallowed nervously. ‘Why did you do it?’
‘Because I’ve had a long life, and it’s been an age since I met someone I clicked with so instantly. Your companionship means a lot to me, Albie. The last few weeks have been lovely.’ Grey eyes soft, she looked like a young girl in her twenties in that moment, rather than a woman who’d weathered decades. ‘I wanted to do something for you. Just because I could.’
Her fingers curled around his forearm, tugging him nearer. Her breath warmed his cheek, and he called himself an old fool for moving closer. Could they? Should he…?
‘I’ve something else to show you.’ She jarred him from his wonderings, pointing further down the lawn. ‘Follow me and watch your step.’ Leading him along several flagstones laid in ameandering path among the blossoming roses, they came to a stop beside the bottom wall. ‘Theo and Kit laid a small patio. A nice spot for whoever lives here to enjoy the balmy air on a summer evening.’
