I tried to untangle the bird’s nest hanging from his chin, but my attempts only knotted it further. ‘I’m sorry, I think you may need to cut it off.’
‘Is this all a ruse to make me get rid of my beard?’
‘No, not at all,’ I said, arranging my face to look as innocent as I could.
The noise of the car grew louder and soon Harry’s Land Rover came into view, Maggie behind the wheel. Of all the residents at Lowen Farm, Maggie was the one I’d spent the least time with, but I’d immediately warmed to her and was looking forward to getting to know her better.
She jumped down from the Land Rover, her sturdy legs clad in pillar-box red Wellington boots. ‘What in God’s name have you done to yourself?’ she asked, bending down and peering at Seb.
‘Don’t ask.’
‘You’re going to have to get that sorted before the meeting later.’
‘I know.’ Seb groaned and threw his head in his hands.
‘It’s about time you got rid of that thing. It’s like a mangy flea-ridden fox hanging from your chin.’
‘Wow, Maggie, you have such a way with words.’
‘Don’t worry, I can sort it.’ Maggie turned to me. ‘In a former life I was a hairdresser. I’ve been wanting to get my mitts on Seb’s mop for years.’
‘Hey, you’re going nowhere near my hair. My beard could do with a trim, but don’t touch the locks.’
Maggie sighed and put her hands on her ample hips. ‘So, let’s get started, shall we?’ She pulled a can of spray chalk from her bag. ‘I thought we could mark out all the areas where treehouses would go. That way, when the chap from the planning department comes round, he’ll see what we’re talking about.’
‘As long as he understands the structures will be in the trees.’
‘Of course, as they’re called treehouses on the planning application, I think that’s a clue. They might be tricky customersover at the council, but they’re not stupid. Not all of them, anyway.’
I longed to ask how a former hairdresser had come to be an admin assistant slash general dogsbody on a co-living farm, but Maggie was already shaking her can of chalk and it didn’t seem the time to pry into her past.
‘Have you thought about facilities?’ asked Maggie.
‘Yeah, I was thinking we could build a shed to store the kayaks near the jetty.’
Maggie shook her head and tutted. ‘Men. I’m talking aboutfacilities, Seb. You know, washing, toileting, et cetera.’
‘Oh, right. Yes, we thought we could build a block of composting toilets and have cold-water sinks for washing. If people are too soft for that, they could use my outdoor shower, but I wouldn’t be encouraging it. Roughing it would be part of the experience.’
‘Good, I’m pleased you’ve thought it through, as these are the questions the planning officer is likely to ask.’
‘It’s all in here,’ I said, pulling a folder from my bag. ‘We typed everything up as a business plan last night, and there’s a FAQ section at the back.’
‘A woman after my own heart,’ said Maggie, taking the folder and flicking through. ‘I can see you two are going to make a good team.’
After marking out the areas where the treehouses would go, we stopped for a coffee break, carrying our mugs down to the jetty. An idea had been forming in my mind ever since I first heard about the lake project, but it was only after Maggie’s enthusiastic response to my business plan that I had the confidence to speak up.
I waited until we were settled on the jetty, legs swinging above the water, before raising the topic. ‘I’ve been wondering about a fundraiser.’
‘A fundraiser?’
‘Yes. I know we’ll be running this as a business, but there’s a strong community element. We’ll be using part of the profits to fund work with disadvantaged groups, so there’s a charitable angle I think people would be keen to support. We could invite the local press along, and the publicity may catch the eye of potential investors.’
‘It’s not a bad idea,’ said Seb. ‘What kind of fundraiser are you thinking?’
‘I wondered about an event here by the lake. We could have village fete-style stalls, a barbecue, and give people the chance to try out some of the water sports you’re hoping to offer.’
‘Not just a pretty face,’ said Maggie. ‘I’m sure the entire village would be keen to get involved, and Mel down at the school would bring her brass band along whether or not you want her to.’
