As the end of July approached, the temperature shot up into the late eighties and the whole country sweltered in the heat.
Tom was grateful for being outside, even though his work on the stables was nearly complete. He had written a couple of songs for his new album but found that having the radio on when he was working benefitted both him and Eleanor.
One afternoon, one of his own songs came on. Eleanor appeared out of her workshop and smiled. ‘They’ll play any old music these days,’ she told him, with a cheeky grin.
He smiled at her before singing along with his own voice coming through the speaker.
When he had finished, Eleanor applauded. ‘Very good,’ she told him. ‘It’s like having my very own private Glastonbury.’
Her face suddenly dropped and she rushed back into her workshop. He knew she was still embarrassed about the kiss. He, on the other hand, found himself cherishing the memory of it. He only wished that he had an opportunity to repeat it.
Later that day, Annie announced that she would be having dinner outside.
‘We really should make the most of eating outside whilst the warm weather’s still here,’ she said. ‘Plus Hazy Memory are on their way next week and we’ll never be able to fit everyone around the table inside.’
So Tom helped Sam carry an enormous wooden table further along the patio so that it was in the sunshine.
‘Is it safe to use?’ asked Annie, giving it a push, which made the table wobble alarmingly.
‘I’ll put some extra nails in it to make sure,’ said Tom.
‘There’s still no shade though,’ said Annie. ‘What about that large garden umbrella?’
Sam shook his head. ‘Broken.’
‘What will we do? Arthur and Rose will need some kind of cover.’
‘I can build them one,’ said Tom, surprising himself by volunteering. ‘There’s some old beams down by the stables.’
Annie and Sam exchanged a look.
‘It helps him write,’ said Sam, palms up.
‘That’s fine by me,’ said Annie, nodding her approval.
Using Arthur’s old tape measure, Tom worked out what kind of cover was needed. It would probably be best to be some kind of pergola, he thought. That was a simple enough structure. Just six, or perhaps, eight vertical beams connected by more horizontal ones across the top.
It only took a day to build but he was relaxed, working in the sunshine of the courtyard.
When he had finished, Eleanor came along to view his work.
‘Very nice,’ she said, gazing up at the structure. ‘But it still doesn’t give any shade.’
‘In the middle east, they drape material across to keep the area cool,’ he told her.
But when they suggested it to Annie, she grimaced. ‘I’m not sure these are quite good enough,’ she said, holding up a couple of old sheets that were dotted with moth holes.
‘Mum’s got tons of material,’ Eleanor told her. ‘She’ll sort something out for you, I’m sure.’
As they walked back to the courtyard to tidy up, Tom asked, ‘How’s your mum doing now that the animals are finding new homes.’
‘She’s okay,’ said Eleanor. ‘Well, a bit lost, I think, but thankfully Annie has commissioned her to make the new curtains for the guest bedrooms. They’re nearly done so that’s why I thought she’d be happy to help out with the new pergola. She’s always been good at sewing.’
‘Are you?’
‘Can’t stitch or knit to save my life,’ she told him, with a wide grin.
‘Then it’s a good job you’re so good at your lotions and potions instead.’
‘Isn’t it?’
Annie went to The Forge to pick up Eleanor’s mum and the swathes of striped material that she had available. Tom helped pin them up across the beams and then they both stood back to admire their work.
‘That’s great,’ said Annie, clapping her hands. ‘We’ll be lovely and shaded under there.’
‘How pretty,’ said Rose, coming out to see it.
‘I had loads of spare material so I thought you might want a few matching seat cushions as well,’ said Eleanor’s mum, pointing at the pile of cushions nearby.
‘How thoughtful,’ said Rose. ‘All our current chairs are terribly hard and uncomfortable. Let me go and get Arthur and show him how busy you’ve been.’
Arthur agreed that it was a remarkable job and invited both Eleanor and her mum to dine with them by way of thank you.
It was a lovely evening. Weighed down by jam jars and small terracotta pots full of herbs and sweat peas, the table was piled high with food and expensive china. It looked like they were using antique plates, thought Tom, staring down at the dainty bone china with pretty rose patterns. It was probably worth a great deal. But Arthur and his family used them as if they had been bought from Argos.
Tom sipped on his beer and found himself relaxing at the chatter of conversation all around him.
Annie had also covered the new pergola in fairy lights so that as dusk fell, the ceiling above them twinkled. It felt magical.
‘Your cushions are so comfortable,’ said Rose, raising a glass to Eleanor’s mum, who blushed furiously.
Tom had an idea. ‘Why don’t you make some and sell them at the fete?’ he suggested.
A crease appeared in June’s forehead. ‘Do you think anyone will want to buy them?’
‘Of course,’ said Rose. ‘They’re lovely and retro. Very in, sweetie.’
‘You’re a local seller, reusing second-hand material,’ said Sam. ‘What could be better than that?’
In the end, June nodded her agreement. Eleanor looked across at Tom and smiled, causing his pulse to pick up speed a little.
‘I know it’s only temporary for this summer, but I do love it under here,’ said Annie, leaning back in her chair.
‘We won’t have any of this temporary chatter,’ said Arthur, in a firm tone. ‘This is staying because it was made by Tom.’
Tom shifted in his seat, suddenly feeling awkward at being included as part of the family. He hadn’t felt that for a very long time. But he knew that staying at Willow Tree Hall had given him a sense of belonging that he had only ever had with his gran.
‘Much more attractive than any old umbrella,’ said Rose. ‘I shall have to have my friends over for drinkies.’
Tom felt a nudge by his knee and knew that Dylan was waiting patiently under the table to see if any food was dropped, accidental or otherwise.
‘What a good boy you are,’ said Arthur, rubbing Dylan’s head as he gave him a tiny piece of cheese.
‘Definitely the dog with the waggiest tail,’ said Sam, glancing down.
‘That’s it!’ shouted Annie, making everyone jump. ‘We should have a dog show at the fete!’
Eleanor frowned. ‘You mean like one of those agility things?’
Annie shook her head. ‘No, more daft than that. We should have awards for the dog with the waggiest tail. Saddest eyes. Things like that.’
‘Sounds good,’ said Tom, nodding.
‘How about best sausage catcher?’ Sam threw a small piece of sausage at Dylan who leapt up and caught it in his mouth. ‘He’s going to be a winner,’ he said grinning.
Dylan chomped on his titbit whilst Tom reflected that he would most likely be staying on for the fete now as well.
He tested his heart to see how upset it was about committing to yet another month at Willow Tree Hall, but, to his surprise, he was really pleased about it.
He looked across the table to where Eleanor was chatting with Arthur. She seemed to gleam in the soft fairy lights above.
Yes, he was definitely glad to be staying that bit longer.