A group of men are hovering around a barbecue further along the garden, cans of beer in their hands. They’re all dressed casually – most will have had the weekend off – and Evan is amongst them. He looks over and clocks me as I pull the door closed.
‘Ellie!’ he shouts with a grin, setting down a pair of tongs and stepping out from behind the grill.
He’s changed into light-blue shorts and a white T-shirt and he looks relaxed and casual as he approaches. The other men stop talking and turn to watch me. Evan’s introductions mostly go in one ear and out the other, but I do meet the two rangers and a couple of workshop employees, plus fellow gardener Harri, a tall, ruddy-cheeked lad with sloping shoulders and a mop of bright blond hair.
An older man emerges from the last cottage, shouting over his shoulder, ‘Come on, Gwen, the party’s already started!’ before making a beeline for me with a crooked smile on his face. ‘You must be Ellie,’ he says in a voice I’m already familiar with.
‘Owain?’ I guess, taking his hand.
‘That’s me.’
He’s a touch shorter than me and stocky in build, with thinning grey hair.
‘And this is my wife, Gwen.’ He waves over a curly-haired woman who has just come out of the cottage.
Her face lights up with a smile as she opens her arms to me.
‘Welcome!’ she says, enclosing me in the sort of several-second hug that would normally be reserved for people who know each other well. ‘Is it Ellie or Eleanor?’ she asks as she withdraws, keeping her hands on my upper arms.
‘Ellie.’
‘I heard Philly call you Eleanor earlier, so I wasn’t sure.’
‘Philly?’
‘Well, probably Lady Berkeley to you. Some of us have worked here a long time, so we’re on more familiar terms,’ she adds with a twinkle in her eye.
A moment later, a tall brunette in frayed denim shorts and a sunshine-yellow jumper bounds out of Evan and Harri’s cottage.
‘I’m so glad to have another girl on the team!’ she exclaims, swooping in for a hard hug before releasing me and beaming. ‘I’m Bethan.’
I like her immediately.
In fact, I like them all.
My feelings only grow stronger as the evening wears on. These people act like a family and in many cases, they are. Owain’s brother Edmund heads up the sawmill and workshop, and their other brother, Gareth, used to be head rangerhere, but now Gareth’s son Celyn is. Bethan’s aunt works in the kitchens, and the person whose position I’m filling is assistant ranger Dylan’s cousin.
It’s a little overwhelming being surrounded by so many people who sound just like Ash, and when Catfish and the Bottlemen – a band we listened to on our way to Sintra – come over the sound system, he’sallI can think about.
‘Where are these guys from again?’ I ask Celyn.
His name is pronounced KEL-in.
‘Llandudno.’
My heart hurts – he sounds so much like Ash.
Is there a chance, any chance at all, that I might be in Ash’s old stamping ground? It’s hard to believe that we could bump into each other, but I’m imagining it nonetheless.
When the temperature drops and people begin to call it a night, Evan invites me into the cottage he shares with Harri.
Bethan lets out a squeal of excitement as she sits on the sofa beside me, squeezing my arm. I look at her face and laugh. She is so friendly, I love it.
‘What’s Siân like?’ I ask as Evan and Harri bring over drinks and snacks from the kitchen.
‘Oh, she’sgreat,’ Bethan enthuses. ‘When Eleri left, I thought about moving into your room just so I could live with Siân.’
‘Why didn’t you?’ I ask with a smile. ‘And who’s Eleri?’
