‘Really?’
‘Yes.’ Jasper nodded his head. ‘It wants a new boiler for a start and the kitchen units could do with replacing. I’ve asked Fitz to make new ones.’
‘A bespoke kitchen? That’ll cost,’ Adira remarked.
‘It will, but it’ll be worth it. I can’t ask for decent rent unless the place is kitted out to a good standard. I doubt old Dickie was too bothered about such niceties as new kitchens.’
‘No, but what about the other units?’
‘Well, Max owns his, so that’s not my responsibility, and Fitz doesn’t live in his accommodation, he uses it for storage.’
‘Ah yes,’ said Adira, remembering the charming little cottage in the woods that Fitz had built. He really was a master craftsman.
‘The kitchen walls will need plastering too, once the units come out.’
‘Busy then?’ She got up and put her arms round his neck, then kissed his lips. He pulled her further into his body and deepened the kiss. After a short while she pulled back to assess him. ‘You’re not too pressured though, are you?’
‘No, I enjoy running the estate. It beats having to work for an oil company with impatient clients,’ Jasper told her, ever mindful of the stress and strain his old job in Dubai had created. At least here he was working for himself. The phone rang interrupting them. ‘I’ll let you get on,’ he said before leaving.
Jasper was on his way to the estate office where he’d arranged to meet Colin. Entering, he saw the estate manager busy at his desk.
‘Hi, Jasper.’ Colin looked up from the paperwork. ‘The barn plans have been submitted to the council. Rory’s just given me a copy to show you.’
‘Ah, let’s see.’ Although he didn’t own the barn any longer, Rory obviously knew he’d still be interested in what they intended to do. He looked at the architect’s design. It was pretty much as he’d guessed it would be, in keeping with the original structure, whilst adding a modern twist with large picture windows. ‘It’s good, isn’t it?’ he said whilst his eyes scanned over the drawings.
‘Yes, I’m surprised the architect’s got the plans done so quickly and off to the council for approval,’ replied Colin. Jasper gave a harsh laugh.
‘I’m not. Judging by what Cassie’s supposed to have told him, he’ll be expecting a fair bit of custom off the back of this.’
‘I see,’ said Colin, giving a wry smile.
‘The sooner this project’s finished, the better it’ll be for this architect’s business.’
‘You don’t regret selling it, then?’ asked Colin.
‘No. I’m glad it’s being put to good use. It’ll make a great home.’
Meanwhile, back at The Laurels, Adira hadn’t stopped. After one phone call came another, then another, all wanting to book events at The Laurels, or stay on the glamping site. She suddenly felt a little dizzy. Seeing the time and realising she hadn’t eaten anything all day, except for a piece of toast, she went into the kitchen to make herself something. Opening the fridge, she was pleased to see Lilly had left them one of her quiches and plated up a slice. When she sat down to eat, though, instead of relishing it, Adira retched. The quiche didn’t taste right at all. Frowning, she put the coffee machine on and ate a few biscuits. Once she’d made her drink, she took it back into the library to carry on working. After taking yet another call, this time someone asking for Jasper, she took a sip of coffee. This made her wince too; it was so bitter. What was the matter with her taste buds?
Chapter 41
Rory was knackered. He’d never known manual work quite like this. He had been determined to start work on the smallholding whilst waiting for the barn to get started and, whilst he still needed the council’s approval, he didn’t want that to hinder his plans. As the architect had said, he didn’t envisage there being a problem, so Rory was bashing on regardless. With Cassie now there to help full-time, they had erected two polytunnels and had sowed heat-loving crops, mainly tomatoes, peppers and a variety of herbs. Then they had built several raised vegetable beds and were in the process of filling them with topsoil and multipurpose compost, which Rory had been at pains to mix together, explaining to Cassie that doing so ensured the nutrients spread out evenly.
Cassie had got stuck in, shovelling the soil into the beds, although after a while did get tired, not being used to such strenuous work. Even so, she wasn’t about to stop; she had been as eager as Rory to get their land going. The quicker they sowed, the sooner they could watch the crops grow, reaping the rewards when the time was right. It was ironic for a couple so hasty and impulsive to have to be patient, letting nature take its course. There would be no instant results in this business, just nurture and wait.
January unfortunately meant that Rory and Cassie were limited as to what they could sow but, later in the year, around March, would see them planting potatoes, lettuce, radishes and other vegetables. In the meantime, Rory was keen to prepare as much as possible, having also made compost bins from pallet wood and chicken wire.
‘Those two are for the green compost,’ he pointed to two large square bins at the edge of the field, ‘whilst the other two,’ which stood further away, ‘are for the brown compost.’ Cassie laughed and looked at him.
‘You’re expecting me to know the difference between green and brown compost?’
‘Yes, Miss Wright, I am,’ he grinned. ‘I’m sure it’s all in those books you bought?’ Not waiting for her to reply he explained, ‘Green compost is rich in nitrogen. We’ll fill those bins with grass clippings, vegetable scraps, animal manure and coffee grounds.’
‘I see.’
‘And brown compost is rich in carbon. We’ll fill those bins with autumn leaves, small branches from garden pruning, cardboard and shredded newspaper.’
‘OK,’ nodded Cassie, then added, ‘Talking of newspaper, the editor from Lancashire Lifestyle has replied to my email.’ She had put off telling Rory last evening when she’d checked her mail, not wanting to distract him from the jobs they had planned. Cassie really enjoyed working with him and wanted to make good progress before letting him know that a journalist would be interviewing them. She had tactfully arranged for the magazine to come the following week, when they had finished most of what they had scheduled to do.
