Читать книгу Getting Organised - Carolyn Caterer - Страница 7

Abi was standing in her back garden admiring the fruits (although really that should be vegetables) of her labours over the past couple of weeks. Actually she had Roger to thank for most of the work. As Mabel had predicted, he had been indispensable at sorting out the sleepers and digging up the garden to prepare it for her. She had been especially lucky as, due to one of his clients being unable to decide on which garden shed she wanted, Roger had a free slot in his diary and worked with a speed which exhausted her as she watched him and his young assistant transform the gravel and old paving slabs, whilst consigning the weeds to history, all in the space of 3 days.

Mabel had been great at showing her how to prepare the ground, even getting Roger to bring over a wheelbarrow full of her best manure and had helped plan out her vegetable beds, along with an area for strawberries and tomatoes (with the compost heap hidden at the back just behind the shed). She had also ensured that the border of flowers immediately beyond the patio outside the back door had been lovingly relieved of its weeds and was now showing off the flowers that would soon be blooming as spring arrived.

Mabel had enough seedlings in her greenhouse to ensure that Abi didn’t have to start from scratch and, in return, she had offered to do some of the more manual digging work in the garden whenever Mabel required help. She knew that Mabel was proud and wouldn’t accept money for her advice or her plants, but she wanted to contribute in some way as a thank you and so she had suggested she helped out saying that the extra physical work was good for her. If truth be told, she would have to admit it had firmed up her arms, legs and stomach in a way she wouldn’t have thought possible in such a short space of time. As Abi was a serial gym hater she was more than happy to do some physical work outside and reap the benefits that way. It also felt as if she were thumbing her nose at David who had insisted on regular gym visits for her during their marriage (she noted this rule didn’t apply to him, and his steadily growing paunch rather proved her point) which she saw more as a form of punishment than a reward, as he seemed to think it was.

As her eyes ran across the patio, which had been jet washed so that it looked as good as new and a rather nice colour now that the dirt had been removed, she realised that it was missing something and that was some tubs of plants. As her cottage was over a hundred years old she decided she needed some classy planters and so decided to go over to the village of Studfold to look around the local pottery, which Mabel had recommended to her.

She decided to go while she was feeling inspired and motivated, which was now. Taking into account her post marriage resolution to do things spontaneously, she immediately jumped into her rather battered Fiesta. Abi saw cars as purely a way of getting her from one place to another and wasn’t remotely interested in any of their other functions, or for that matter, doing dull things such as washing them. Hence she had gone for a silver colour, convinced that this was the least likely to show the dust and the dirt accumulated from living in the countryside.

As she pulled up outside the pottery in the picturesque village she could practically hear the curtains twitching and the neighbours tutting at the car which was so out of keeping with the BMWs, Jaguars and 4X4’s that littered the drives, but Abi was totally oblivious to the display of wealth that was all around her. As she parked she had been totally mesmerised by some sky blue pots that stood outside and was heading towards them with delight.

Unfortunately her delight turned to disappointment when she saw the prices; at least double what she had anticipated spending. She looked around hoping to spot something more in her price range, but looking through the entire collection in the main pottery just demonstrated that these prices were way out of her league.

As she turned to head back to her car she noticed, across the other side of the small car park, an outbuilding with a sign outside saying ‘seconds’. Holding her breath Abi headed over to see if there was anything there more suitable for her purse.

As she walked into the room her eyes had to adjust to the subdued lighting which seemed to be preventing her from making out any shapes or forms, but as she took another step forward she started as the room automatically lit up before her. Immediately she spotted a number of the blue planters in the corner with a hand written sign enticingly saying ‘60% off’. Hardly able to believe her luck Abi started looking through them wondering if they were cracked or the wrong shape, but they seemed to be just as good as the ones outside. She chose three and then her eye was taken by some jugs on the table above them. Again, these jugs were a lovely deep blue with white spots on them and perfect for milk or cream. She picked one up and held it to the light, still trying to spot the imperfection that made it a second and yet to her untrained eye it looked perfect. She stared at it intently willing it to show her its secret flaw.

‘It’s got a slight mark on one of the spots in case you were wondering.’ A voice blurted out from the doorway and caught Abi completely off guard. She spun around and tripped over one of the planters that she had moved in preparation for purchasing it. Not wishing to drop the jug and break it, she stumbled forward and fell flat on her knees and then on to her front, ending up prostrate on the floor with her hands out in front of her, the jug two inches off the ground.

‘Well caught. Here let me help you up.’ Abi had been taken by surprise at his appearance that she was totally unaware of his face and, now she was face down on the floor all she could see was an old pair of trainers and some well-worn jeans in front of her, but worst of all she could hear the amusement in his voice and she felt instantly humiliated. However, what was worse than lying on the floor in front of a total stranger was that she suddenly realised she hadn’t changed out of her gardening clothes and so her t-shirt and trousers were stained with all sorts of things from her garden and she was in no fit state to be seen by anyone. Deciding that this whole spontaneity thing was very overrated Abi decided the only way to keep her pride or what was left of it, was to get up from the floor in as ladylike a manner as possible in order to spare her further humiliation.

As the man held out his hand to assist her, Abi couldn’t help but wish he would just go away and leave her alone. She took hold of his hand, grateful to get out of this embarrassing predicament as soon as possible and, as he brought her to her feet, glanced quickly up at his face and found a pair of bright blue eyes reflecting the amusement in his voice, in a kindly way and, she had to admit, a very attractive face, which was probably just what she didn’t want to see when she was feeling inadequate enough already.

Sensing her discomfort he immediately stood back from her as she got up on her feet and turning away he walked out of the outhouse with no further comments or any eye contact whatsoever. In fact it had all happened so fast she was only just able to make out some basic features, including a clean shaven chin and dark blonde hair which fell across his face in a rather appealing manner.

In different circumstances Abi would have been more than happy to find out more about this man, but today she felt distracted, disorganised and most certainly not ready to make polite conversation with a total stranger, who for some reason she could not fathom had rather set her heart aflutter, despite her barely having more than a glance at him. She dusted herself down, put the jug back on the shelf, picked up the planters and walked across the car park back to the main shop where a young woman in her twenties took her money in virtual silence and made it quite clear that this job was both boring and beneath her. So much for customer service, thought Abi and left as soon as possible, with a couple of furtive glances to see if the man was around, but he had disappeared as quickly as he had arrived.

Placing the planters in the boot she drove home via a local nursery and purchased a number of winter pansies to keep her going until the spring flowers could be planted.

*************************************************

Adam Henderson watched from his workshop in the corner of the yard as the woman put her planters in the back of her car. He was intrigued by her and her complete lack of attention to her looks. She had obviously been working hard outside from the state of her; maybe she was a gardener or garden designer as they seemed to like being called these days? He could see that, when she pulled up and got out of her car, she was oblivious to both how she looked and how much her looks clashed with the rather perfect village in which his business was located. He was almost waiting for one of the neighbours to come rushing out and tell her to go away and not come back until she was more presentable (he wouldn’t put it past old Mrs Evans to do just that), but fortunately they all stayed in their houses. Unaware that she was being watched he could tell that she was perfectly at ease with herself and had probably not even noticed that she was wearing stained trousers and a top that had seen better days. Adam found this both intriguing and endearing as he was used to the Sunday brigade who came in their expensive cars and designer clothes, with children who almost always managed to break something. As the parents simply paid up without a fuss Adam could hardly protest at the destruction of his carefully crafted pottery, but to see something that he had so lovingly made thrown onto the ground and destroyed in a second did rather irk him. Some people had no appreciation of the craft of throwing a pot and how you put your heart and soul into making it the best you could.

That was why Adam’s outhouse had so many seconds; he couldn’t bear to sell something with even the slightest imperfection at the full price as he felt he was cheating his customers and so it was always easy to find something in the seconds area if you couldn’t afford his full-priced range. Adam had established such a good reputation; he had been featured in a number of top class magazines that his weekend clientele had often driven down from London to look around and, as a consequence, he was able to charge very high prices for his work. He didn’t need to keep churning things out and exhaust himself in the process. The laws of supply and demand worked very well for him and he could easily charge hundreds of pounds for some of his pieces. In fact one of his friends once put an item up for auction on e-bay to prove just how much he was under-pricing his goods, when he first came to prominence, and Adam watched in disbelief and amazement as the vase went for five times the price it was in the pottery. Whilst Adam wasn’t greedy he was a pretty good businessman and had spent the next day re-pricing his entire catalogue. The following weekend he waited to see how this would affect business and was pleasantly surprised to find that it made absolutely no difference to his sales whatsoever.

With business booming Adam had been able to employ someone to look after the shop from Thursdays through to Sundays leaving him free to work on his potter’s wheel and have people look in occasionally. Not that Adam ever noticed anyone peeking through the window as he found the whole process of pottery making completely absorbing and the time just flew by. He knew that Sophie wasn’t the friendliest of people to have looking after the shop, but she didn’t mind the fact that she had to stay in the shop most of the day and there was nothing else to do in the village; no post office to visit or buy sweets or ice creams in, (that had been closed a number of years ago as part of a downsizing project) just a small pub which was mainly frequented by locals in the winter and tourists in the summer.

Adam poured himself a mug of coffee and then, because he couldn’t resist, looked back across the car park to where he could see the woman he had just encountered getting into her car. He was totally intrigued by her as she wasn’t dressed in the style of his usual clientele. In fact he had to admit he found it pleasantly surprising that she seemed to be so unaware of her rather mud-stained top and, underneath it all he felt there lurked a rather attractive body. She certainly had a nice bottom from his observation of her as he walked into the outbuilding where she was looking at his seconds display. She had been so absorbed she hadn’t noticed him and when she did a rather comical episode had ensued. He had wanted to go and help her up, but he sensed her embarrassment and felt it was perhaps better to make himself scarce whilst she recovered her dignity.

However the image of her wouldn’t leave him and he hoped she would be back soon as he wanted to find out more about her.

He wandered into the main shop and asked Sophie how the last customer had paid, thinking that if she had used a card at least he might discover her surname at least, but Sophie replied that the woman with no dress sense had paid in cash and not been in the mood to pass the time with pleasantries. Sophie had evidently not been very impressed with her demeanour or her lack of conversation, but Adam could understand why, given the circumstances, she had wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. Sophie however had detected Adam’s interest in this particular customer and was determined to find out more.

‘So you fancy her then?’ Sophie had always been direct but Adam wished on this occasion she had perhaps kept her interest in his love life to herself.

‘She just seemed a rather down to earth person and I was intrigued.’ Adam’s measured reply was an attempt to put Sophie off the scent.

‘Hmm, down to earth was the right description seeing as she was covered in dirt from head to toe.’ Sophie’s tone made it quite clear that she regarded the mystery woman with suspicion and contempt, a fact that ensured Adam liked her even more.

‘Sophie have you ever heard of the term ‘Never judge a book by its cover.’?’ Adam asked somewhat mischievously.

Sophie glared at him and let out a long sigh.

‘Yes of course I have, but maybe you have never heard of the concept of ‘first impressions’?’ She snapped back, giving as good as she got.

Adam grinned and decided not to tease her any longer. Besides, he had a busy weekend coming up, with an order for a top garden designer who wanted to feature some of his work in his garden at the Chelsea Flower Show, and was determined to get ahead of the game with the less perishable items that were going to be displayed. Although an artist first, Adam knew that this kind of exposure would lead to some significant orders and probably some interest from a number of top home and garden magazines, so he certainly wasn’t going to turn down the opportunity for free publicity.

Putting all thoughts of the mystery woman (or ‘MW’ as he now called her) aside, he walked back into his workroom and immersed himself in his latest creations. Time flew by and, before he knew it, Sophie was putting her head around the corner to tell him that it was four o’clock and she was off home if that was ok with him. Adam nodded without looking up from his wheel and heard Sophie turn away and get in her car. Adam took the large vase from the wheel and stacked it next to the other objects he had made that day. By tomorrow he would have enough to fire in the kiln and then he could start working on the colours and designs that would adorn them as per the specification from the garden designer. Fortunately as they were old friends from University, Jeremy had given Adam a rough outline of what he was aiming to achieve and then told Adam to get on with it and come up with something dramatic and eye catching, after all this was Chelsea and he needed to stand out from the rest of the gardens that would be on display and vying for attention. Adam felt really excited to be able to let his imagination go into overdrive rather than having to restrain it for the conservative tastes of the majority of his clientele. He appreciated that many people who liked his work wanted him to keep producing stuff in a similar vein and didn’t like anything new. The business sense of sticking to what made him a decent living couldn’t be denied, but he was always pleased and relieved to be let out of his usual style, on the odd occasion, and try something different.

Looking at the shape of the vase he could only wonder at how it seemed to almost reflect the outline of the body of the mystery woman, or was that just wishful thinking on his part? Adam knew he wanted to find out more but how was he going to do that when he had no idea who she was or where she lived? It couldn’t have been that far away or surely she would have changed before coming out? This thought cheered him up immensely and he was determined to keep and eye out for her car as he drove around. He wished he had taken a note of her car registration number and cursed the fact that she was driving around in the ubiquitous silver which made all cars look identical and most of all would prove much more difficult for him to notice as he drove around. But one thing he was very sure of was that he looked forward to seeing her again and finding out much more about her.