Читать книгу: «Spring on the Little Cornish Isles: The Flower Farm», страница 5
Chapter 7
Valentine’s Day was already a memory when Gaby made her way from the staff house towards the fields, there was a hint of true spring in the air. They were into the final week of February and although an inch of snow had fallen in London, gridlocking the capital, the air on St Saviour’s was mild and the sun warm on her back. She planned on calling her parents later, but for now, a day of work lay ahead.
She hoped the hard work would help to stop her from dwelling too often on the fact that Stevie would have been twenty-two today. Not only that, but the first anniversary of his death was only a month away. It would be a very tough time for the whole family and Gaby planned to go home for a long weekend to support her parents.
‘Gaby!’
The shout came from Will who was about to waylay her as she was entering the top field. Her spirits lifted when she saw his outfit: a charcoal grey suit, with the trousers tucked into his wellies. Both the trousers and jacket looked brand new, teamed with a white shirt and tie, which also looked fresh from the box – unlike his trusty wellies. He carried a small narcissus buttonhole between his fingertips as he bore down on her. Gaby waited for him by the edge of the field, acutely aware of the contrast between Will’s smart suit and her own outfit. Along with her dungarees, she was wearing a new hat: one of those patterned Norwegian woollen ones with a fleece lining that made her look like an elf. Resisting the urge to pull it off before Will saw it, she braced herself for a confrontation but had no idea why.
‘Gaby, have you got a moment?’ he said briskly.
‘Yes, boss.’ She peered at his clean-shaven chin, not sure if she preferred it to the usual stubble. Then decided she did rather like it and had to stifle a giggle.
He frowned. ‘What’s so funny?’
‘Nothing. Nothing at all.’
He rubbed his chin. ‘Have I got toothpaste on my chin or something?’
‘No. Everything’s fine.’
He rolled his eyes. ‘Good because I’ve no time to fart about this morning. This wedding’s come at our busiest time and I can’t really afford a whole day off. Why do these events have to last all day?’ He pulled a face, then poked his fingers through his hair which was still damp from where he’d rushed out of the shower by the look of it.
Gaby nodded enthusiastically. ‘I totally agree. I’m never offended when I only get asked to the evening do. And those Save the Date cards give you no chance of booking a week in Outer Mongolia so you have a good excuse for getting out of them.’
He laughed. ‘Well, as we’re already in Outer Mongolia, I never need an excuse to avoid the things on the mainland, but I’ve no get-out this time. Mum’s close to her sister, so we have to go and, of course, we’ve provided all the flowers for the church and reception.’
‘Yes, I did notice.’
Gaby had been called in to help pick and take the flowers into the shed, where Becca, one of the senior members of the design team, had worked with the wedding florists to create the table arrangements, displays and bouquets. There were jasmine-scented Paper Whites, sunny Hugh Towns and Daymarks, with added greenery and some other spring blooms from the mainland to add a splash of contrasting colour. The flowers had been loaded onto the boat at first light to transport to the wedding venue at St Piran’s community hall.
‘I really don’t want to leave you, of course,’ Will said, adding hastily. ‘To cope on your own, I mean.’
‘I expect we’ll survive somehow.’
He sighed. ‘Good … I don’t feel I can bring the boat back here straight after the ceremony, leaving Jess and Mum to get a lift later. The new group of pickers who arrived yesterday need supervising. Normally we don’t take on new staff mid-season, but we need them for that new supermarket contract that Jess has managed to secure and Len’s not well and can’t come in today.’
‘I heard Len was ill. Nothing serious, I hope?’
‘Norovirus, apparently, but he needs to keep well away from everyone or it’ll go through the whole team.’
‘Poor Len,’ said Gaby, and she meant it. Although Len could be a pain in the bum, she didn’t really want him to go down with Noro.
‘He’s stopped throwing up but he has to stay away for another forty-eight hours.’ He shoved one hand in his suit pocket. Gaby winced. Stevie had always done that on the rare occasion he could be strong-armed into a suit like the day she got her Master’s a few years earlier. She could hear her mum now, saying, ‘For heaven’s sake, Stevie, you’ll ruin the cut of those trousers.’ Stevie had rolled his eyes and shoved his hands deeper in his pockets. Gaby smiled.
Will didn’t.
‘The thing is. You’ve come on a lot. I despaired when you first started, but I’m beginning to think you might make a half-decent picker after all.’
‘Why, thank you for the compliment, Mr Godrevy.’
He frowned deeply as if he was offended, then the corners of his lips tilted. ‘I – we – need you to keep an eye on the new lot, just for today. You know what novices are like. We need to finish harvesting the Daymarks for a big wholesale order. I wouldn’t ask but we’re desperate, so if you could leave this and go up there and show them the ropes. I’ll tell them you’re the temporary supervisor and know it all inside out so they won’t know any different.’
‘Again. Thanks for the vote of confidence.’
He grinned. ‘You’re welcome. I like the new tea cosy by the way.’
‘I like your new overalls.’ She raised a cheeky eyebrow.
He glanced down and grimaced. ‘Make the most of it. You’re not likely to see me in a suit again.’
‘I guess not. Um. You might like to cut the tag off before you go to the wedding.’
‘What? Damn. Where?’
‘The price tag’s hanging down the back. Hold on.’
Gaby held the buttonhole so he could take off his jacket. She snipped off the price tag with the cutters she kept in her pocket and smirked. The jacket had obviously been ordered online from John Lewis and was actually a rather nice one. She tried not to smile too much while he shrugged it back over his broad shoulders.
‘Don’t forget this.’ She offered the flower.
‘Thanks.’ He took the buttonhole from her, pulled a pin from his lapel and started trying to fasten it.
‘Hold on. You’re making holes in your new suit.’
She took the bloom from him, stuck the pin between her teeth and in seconds had fastened the narcissus neatly onto his lapel. With a gentle tweak to make sure it was at exactly the right angle, she stood back to admire her handiwork.
And him.
Wow. This was quite worrying. The way her hands weren’t quite steady when she’d finished fixing the flower. The way her stomach did a routine to rival an Olympic tumbler at the feel of his suit under her hands. The hungry way that he was looking at her despite her tea cosy hat and her dungarees with the strange flask-shaped bulge in the pocket like she was nursing a baby kangaroo.
He lowered his chin and peered down at the buttonhole. ‘I’m impressed.’
‘Practice. I’ve fixed them lots of times for friends during exams,’ she said. When he looked surprised, she added, ‘They liked to wear a different colour carnation for every day of Finals. It lightens the mood a little as you’re going to the gallows,’ she explained as his brow creased in puzzlement.
‘That’s how I feel.’
She laughed at his gloomy expression. ‘Then again, this is a wedding, not root canal work.’
‘Hmm … look, thanks again, and if there are any problems, you can reach me or Jess on our mobiles. It might take a while for us to get here, but if it’s an emergency, you must call.’
‘Relax. Enjoy. Everything will be fine,’ she said breezily. If only she meant it.
‘I’m sure it will. And, Gaby …’
‘Yes?’
‘Are you absolutely sure you’ll be OK?’
He looked at her and lifted his hand as if he was going to touch her but then dropped it again. He can’t possibly know what today is, Gaby told herself. No one outside the family knew. She wasn’t sure he even knew about Stevie at all. She had mentioned the circumstances briefly to Jess not long after she’d joined the farm, but asked her not to tell anyone else. She didn’t want anyone’s pity, least of all Will’s, but she did crave his respect … Oh, who was she kidding? She fancied him like crazy, and the sight of him in a suit and wellies was fuelling a load of very unusual fantasies.
‘I’ll be fine,’ she said, then cleared her husky throat. ‘Just go to the wedding, Will. Please.’
Yet he made no move to leave her, and they held each other’s gaze too long for boss and employee. For a few seconds, she genuinely wondered if he might jump on her in his wedding suit in the middle of a muddy field.
‘Will! What on earth are you doing? You’ll ruin that suit!’
At the shout from behind him, Will turned sharply, but Gaby could already see Anna making her way into the field. Like her son, Anna was also wearing wellies, but any resemblance ended there. She was holding up the skirt of a purple shift dress while hobbling between the flower rows. She wore a fitted teal jacket over the dress and her immaculate blow-dry was topped by a fascinator of extravagant blue and purple feathers. She reminded Gaby of a very angry peacock.
She reached them, darted an accusing glance at Gaby and then rounded on Will, while keeping her tight dress above the level of her wellies.
‘I’ve been looking for you for the past twenty minutes. What are you doing out here?’
‘Sorting out some cover for the new crew. Mum, be careful or you’ll get your dress dirty.’
‘If I do it’ll be thanks to you. We need to leave!’
‘I’m ready now. Gaby’s going to supervise the new crew while Len’s out of action.’
Anna’s eyebrows rose. ‘Her?’
‘Yes, Mum. Everything’s fine.’
‘Well, if you think Gaby’s up to it. No disrespect to you, of course,’ Anna said to Gaby, when she was clearly thinking something very cutting indeed. ‘But you are new and it is a huge responsibility.’
Gaby opened her mouth to try and get a shot into this game of Godrevy ping-pong, but Will batted his response back too fast.
‘Mum. It’s only for a day and Gaby knows exactly what she has to do. She’s been here six months and if there’s a crisis, I’ll have to bring the boat back, won’t I?’
Anna pursed her lips. ‘And wouldn’t you just love an excuse to do that?’
‘It’s fine. I promise you there won’t be a crisis.’ Gaby finally jumped into the rally. ‘So, you can all go and have a lovely time at the wedding. Don’t worry about anything. Enjoy your day,’ she said emphasising the word ‘day’, so Will knew he had to stay away.
‘Thanks a lot,’ said Will, his eyes gleaming with a mix of gratitude and exasperation.
Gaby grinned. ‘You’re welcome.’
‘Well, as there’s no one else, I suppose we’ve no choice,’ Anna muttered. ‘Now let’s get on our way before you change your mind. I know how much you’d love to find another reason to get out of this. Your aunt fully expects you to find some way of wriggling out of it as it is, so we’re going to show them, they’re wrong.’
Anna stumbled. Will caught her arm and stopped her from slipping into the mud.
‘Be careful, Mum. Now, come on or we’ll be late for this damn wedding.’
‘I’ve been telling you that for the past hour!’ Anna shrugged off his arm and squelched off, holding up her hem and muttering about where Jess had got to now and hoping she’d have a lovely day as she deserved some fun after what that bloody postman had done to her.
Will turned to Gaby and mouthed ‘thanks’.
Gaby watched him trudge after his mum.
She was pleased to be given the chance to show she could look after everyone despite the moths stirring in her stomach. All she had to do was show the rookie team how to harvest the crop and get it done by the time Will got back. That would show Len and Anna. Most of all, it would give her something to focus on, on a day that held such bittersweet memories.
Chapter 8
Gaby was glad the four new pickers couldn’t see her churning stomach as they gathered outside the packing shed. They’d only arrived the previous day and most bore the same expression that she must have had on her first day: a rabbit in the headlights. They shuffled around, dressed in a jumble sale mix of hats, jumpers and gloves.
There was a slight look of the chain gang about them, Gaby thought, stifling a giggle. By now, they would have realised that, until tomorrow at least, there was no way off the island even if they’d wanted to leg it. Pickers were often native Scillonians but today there was only one local who was new to picking. The other two were from the mainland UK and one was Polish. Natalia was about Gaby’s age and from a small town outside Krakow. She’d worked in various market gardens in East Anglia over the past couple of years and looked slightly less terrified than the others. She also knew Cambridge a little, which had broken the ice between them when they had been briefly introduced the previous evening.
Gaby straightened herself up to her full five feet one and a half and threw them all a confident smile.
‘OK. You’ve already had your induction and health and safety with Len yesterday, so we’re going to get straight to work,’ she said. ‘We need to pick the Daymark and Yellow Cheer today. This is a Daymark. You can tell it by the bright orange cups.’ She held up the distinctive flower in one hand and a paler yellow one in the other. ‘And this is a Yellow Cheer, but of course, we don’t want to pick any that are already in bloom like this one. We look for tight buds that will be ready to open when they reach the customers. Don’t we?’
Natalia nodded but the others seemed nonplussed.
‘Come on! You can do better than that,’ she said, feeling like an aerobics instructor faced by a Monday morning class.
‘Yes, Gaby,’ a faint chorus and a few smirks. She suspected they knew she wasn’t used to being in charge and were obviously looking for signs of weakness.
She soldiered on. ‘You don’t have to worry anyway, because I’ll show you the exact varieties we’re going to be working on. You’ll soon be able to tell which is which by their scent alone. I’ll be around to help if anyone has any questions or problems.’
Although, by now, she could have picked and packed with her eyes shut, it was another thing instructing a group of newbies who were staring at her as if she was the fount of all knowledge.
She grinned. ‘Come on then. Let’s get on with it before this lot is already in bloom.’
The local pointed to the nearest field. ‘That’s the field we’re doing?’ he asked incredulously.
‘What? All of it?’ a skinny guy with a Scottish accent asked. He was called Robbie, appropriately enough, thought Gaby, resisting the urge to quote Burns. That really would freak everyone out.
‘Yes. It’s perfectly doable before the end of the day. Even for beginners,’ Gaby added with a touch of sarcasm. Len would have been proud. Will must have carefully calculated exactly what the novice team could pick in the time allotted. So, she was damn well going to get it done, no matter how much they moaned.
Without giving them any more time to revolt, she marched them to the field, setting to with gusto and hoping to lead by example. However, it was frustrating work as she had to break off every few minutes to correct someone’s technique or answer questions about whether the bloom was at the right stage. Normally, Len drove the quad bike full of crates back to the packing shed, but Gaby had to do it herself, which meant she had to leave her team for minutes at a time and wait while the crates were unloaded at the packing shed and collect empty ones.
By lunchtime, they’d only done a third of the field, but everyone, including Gaby, was desperate for a break and there was no way she would expect anyone to work through.
The moment lunchtime was over, Gaby led her crew back to the field, trying to work at double the rate. Ignoring her aching back, burning arms and sore fingers, she did her best to make up the difference. Her team were more experienced now; even though they were tired, they’d had a morning’s practice and there were less interruptions. The general manager, Lawrence did her a favour by collecting some of the full crates on the quad bike and bringing empty ones back when he could spare a few minutes from the office.
By mid-afternoon, Gaby was starting to think they would come close to finishing the job but not quite. Her heart sank. She’d wanted to get it done, and show Anna, Len and Will that she could do it – and mostly, she relished the challenge. She had a feeling that Will wouldn’t be disappointed if she didn’t. Perhaps, he never really expected it, but for her own satisfaction, Gaby wanted to do it. Bizarrely, she also had the idea that she needed to do it for Stevie. There was no rational reason for this, although the analytical part of her brain suggested it was probably another way of coping with her emotions on a difficult day. It was certainly a way to keep busy and ensure she went to bed completely knackered.
The sun started to sink lower and, with it, the spirits and rate of the novices dropped significantly. They were all shattered and frequently standing up to stretch or moan, or both. Gaby knew how they felt. She was ready to drop and she knew they’d be stiff and aching for days until they got used to the constant stooping and the sore fingers.
She checked her watch. Arghh. There was only twenty minutes to go before she had to let everyone clock off.
‘Come on. Not long. One more push!’ she shouted, but knowing that they were very unlikely to finish the field now.
Most, but not all the workers, made a final effort, but what seemed like mere moments later, Gaby’s alarm went off.
With a sigh, she stood up, her fingers numb and stiff from the extra effort she’d made.
‘OK. That’s it. You’ll be pleased to know that’s the end of your first day. Thanks for your great work and see you tomorrow.’
In seconds, the field was empty, apart from Natalia who patted Gaby on the back. ‘Thanks.’
‘What for? Cracking the whip?’ Gaby was bemused.
‘For not being a horrible boss.’
Gaby laughed. ‘Thanks, but I’m not your boss. Will and Jess are.’
‘I met Jess. She seems OK. Quiet but nice. Fair. Will is hot.’ Natalia fanned herself extravagantly, then pulled a face. ‘But he also walks around like he has a thundercloud over his head. He needs a girlfriend.’ She grinned. ‘Or boyfriend?’
Gaby had to smile too, but she was horrified that Natalia had sussed out in a moment that Gaby fancied Will, and inside a light bulb had gone on. What if Will looked stressed out because he wanted a boyfriend? What if she’d misread the moments between them – or just imagined them – and Will was gay?
‘All Will cares about is getting these flowers picked,’ she said, and that at least was partly true.
‘We did our best,’ said Natalia, pulling off her gloves. ‘The rest of us will be here tomorrow. So will Len.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘I’ve heard the others talking about him. I hope his sickness decides to stay with him for a while longer.’
Gaby stifled a laugh. She didn’t want Len to be ill and his bark was a lot worse than his bite, but his reputation for drilling the new workers like a platoon sergeant was fearsome and well-earned. ‘I doubt any bug would dare hang around Len for too long. I’m surprised that one’s dared to approach him in the first place.’
‘Hmm. I’m going for food in the common room. Then some of us should go to the pub. There is a pub here?’
‘Yes. The Gannet. It’s about ten minutes’ walk away. You go and get cleaned up. I need to drive these crates up to the sheds. Then maybe I’ll join you in the pub later if I haven’t fallen asleep in my room!’
This was more than likely, thought Gaby as she trudged back to the staff house after unloading a batch of crates. She was very tired but secretly happy, even though she hadn’t finished the whole field. She’d got the small team working well and encouraged them to keep going even when some looked like they wanted to chuck it all in. Maybe one or two would: she couldn’t help it if they decided they’d made a big mistake. All she could have done was try her best to complete the task for the day without too many disasters.
The quad bike wasn’t quite full. There were still a few empty crates. There was no point leaving them like that and it wouldn’t take long to pick a few more flowers and fill them. Gaby took a swig of cold coffee from her flask, finished off the chocolate bar in her bag and set to again.
Ouch. Even stopping for ten minutes made it hard to get going again, but she wanted at least to fill the crates. Half an hour later she drove the quad bike into the yard, laden with crates. Everyone had gone from the packing shed, so she took the crates into the fridge herself, almost toppling over with the weight of them. Then she went back to the bike.
With a sigh, she looked at the one corner of the field they’d not got round to, still with the flowers in bud at the perfect stage. They seemed to mock her, saying, ‘Pick me, pick me.’
It was five-thirty p.m. and the sun was hovering just above the horizon, the sea silvery in the early evening light. Although she’d been warm from the recent work, she’d been in and out of the fridge and now felt the evening chill. How long would it take, she thought, to finish that corner? How long before the Godrevys got back from the wedding on St Piran’s? It depended on the tides, and even though Will and Jess were perfectly capable of piloting their boat after dark, perhaps they might want to be back before then. That didn’t give her much time if she wanted to finish the job before Will’s return.
Gaby drove the quad to the top of the field and sat looking at the tiny patch in the corner that was bugging the heck out of her. It was like a compulsion: she had to finish the field for Stevie, even though he’d have laughed and told her to go down the pub.
Oh, sod it. She could virtually finish the field, have a lightning-quick shower and still show up at the Gannet. She climbed off the quad, picked up a crate and marched across the field.
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