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"Yes, I was here a year ago to instruct the foresters. The thinned parts of the land had culled some of the more invasive plants entirely. I had some select native species reintroduced last year." He paused, stopping himself from rambling on about plants, which I could tell he was dying to do. I was dying to listen but that wasn't what I was here for so I gave him a knowing smile and returned my attention to the supply list.
The list was good; snowdrops which could flower as early as January. There were bluebells of course, as well as red campions, yellow archangel, foxglove and honeysuckle. In a year’s time, the woodlands would be restored to their former glory.
"Do you foresee any problems with the order?" Mr Tell had been quiet for so long that the sudden sound of his voice made me jump. I looked up and faced him straight on.
"No," I answered evenly. He raised his brows again, only slightly, but it gave me the impression that he was surprised I wasn't more grateful that he'd bothered to speak to me. His arrogance grated on me so I shifted in my seat. It squeaked, he grimaced, and I bit back another laugh. I turned back to Riley. "Can we discuss the lakes? I see you plan to use stone weirs to prevent further bank erosion."
"Yes, we tried railway sleepers but they collapsed after a few months and we're still left with a rank, dead lake. Nothing grows, nothing thrives. I'd really thought the sleepers would work." He looked genuinely upset and I understood.
"It's painful to watch nature suffer because you can't figure out how you’re hurting it."
Riley smiled at me and I felt a warmth radiate from him, an acknowledgement that I was a kindred spirit.
"Stone weirs." I pointed at the plans for them. "They should work just fine."
He nodded, seeming relieved. "The pond is another big project. The water is mostly sludge. We plan to hire a commercial tank to suction it out so we can refill it ourselves and then here," Riley leaned in close and traced the dotted line along the edge of the pond, "I want a thick line of meadowsweet along the pond's edge." He continued on, becoming excited as he described what he wanted. He leaned in closer to show me something on the far edge of the plans and his arm came across the back of my seat.
I felt, rather than saw, Mr Tell stiffen. Confused by his behaviour, I kept my focus on the plans in front of me. "What will you do with the sludge?"
"What do you mean?" Riley asked, leaning back in his seat and giving me my space back.
"I mean the pond sludge once it's in the commercial tank. Do they take it away and dump it, or will you be using it for something else? What happens to it?"
The two men traded confused looks, a silent communication that didn't seem to come to any conclusion.
"I assume they'll dispose of it." Riley looked at Mr Tell for confirmation but received none. “I'm sure we won’t be using it. Why? Do you want it?"
"No, not me. I meant for the farmers. That kind of water is incredibly rich in nutrients. Farmers like to mix it with pig slurry and spread it over their fields as manure. It's wonderful for the crops." I trailed off, suddenly embarrassed. I turned my gaze back to the plans even though I knew them by heart by now. I should be proud of my knowledge, yet showing it off embarrassed me.
"It would make more sense then just dumping it,” Riley said. “Thank you for the suggestion.”
I nodded and did my best to squash the self-doubt that had plagued me a moment ago. My ex-boyfriend, Adam, had once told me that a girl could be too smart. He’d made intelligence seem like an obnoxious trait to have, but Riley wasn't looking at me like I was obnoxious. He was looking at me like he was glad I was there. I pulled confidence from that and told the Adam of my memories to go fuck himself.
"You're welcome." I took a deep breath and moved on. "So, what are your plans for the land damage surrounding the property?"
"What land damage?" I wasn't surprised that Mr Tell jumped in on this issue. Land damage was expensive and even billionaire businessmen had to work to a budget on a project like this. The budget was always malleable. Businessmen, however, weren't,and I got the feeling that Mr Tell was about as malleable as the stone weirs drawn out in front of me.
I got up and walked to the roof edge. They both followed and I leaned over the wall, pointing at the stretches of damaged land that were much more obvious from up here then they had been on ground level.
"See there, where the grass is bare and patchy? The damage is from all of the scaffolding, the human traffic…" I eyed an idle cement mixer with distaste. These workmen could fix up a building for sure, but they had no idea how land should be treated. "The earth has compacted, see?"
"I see it." Mr Tell eyed the stretches of damaged land with a grim eye. It was the first time I'd seen him interested in something other than me since we'd sat down. He turned to Riley. "I didn't see any plans for it in the prints."
"No, I haven't put together a plan for that yet."
Mr Tell maintained his stare and I expected Riley to whither under its intensity, but was surprised when he just gave a small shrug.
"Whether I'd planned for it or not the damage was unavoidable, Alfie. The work needed to be done."
I raised my eyebrows at his words. I doubted Mr Tell was on a first name basis with many of his employees and I wondered about their relationship. It was hard to imagine them as friends—Riley was so easy-going and Mr Tell was so…not.
Riley took off his glasses and began cleaning them, turning his attention back to me. "I'd hoped to pick Mark’s brains about the damage. I've never worked on a project that was in such a bad state to begin with. I don't suppose you have any bright ideas do you?"
"About twenty tonnes of bespoke blended soil should do it."
They both stared at me. I was the centre of attention again.
"Twenty tonnes?" Riley repeated, seeming a little stunned. Mr Tell scrutinised me but I ignored him, focusing on Riley who had been my friendly anchor throughout this meeting.