Page 2 of All Wrapped Up

‘I’ve actually just finished what I needed to do out here,’ I surprisingly plucked up the courage to say, ‘so, you’re more than welcome to come in and take a look around. Unless you’re on your way somewhere.’

‘I’m not,’ Lizzie said happily, ‘I’m a completely free agent today. We don’t open the café on a Sunday. Or a Monday, come to that.’

‘Café?’

‘Yes, my friend Jemma and I run The Cherry Tree Café in Wynbridge and the gallery next door. Perhaps you’ve been in?’

‘I can’t say I have,’ I confessed. ‘But it sounds lovely.’

‘It is,’ she said proudly and looked at the cottage again. ‘Are you sure you don’t mind me coming in?’

‘Of course not,’ I said, taking a deep breath as I felt the parameters of my comfort zone stretch and change shape. ‘You’re very welcome.’

I left Lizzie looking around the sitting room and admiring the revamped fireplace while I washed my hands in the kitchen and made a jug of elderflower cordial.

It had taken more than a few seconds for my heart rate to settle when we came in, but I wasn’t surprised about that because I had never entertained a guest in Rowan Cottage before.

‘I love how you’ve got your bookcase set up!’ Lizzie called to me. ‘All of the books on my shelves are just laid out in regimented rows.’

I had some books lined up but others were stacked in small piles and the interesting arrangement left spaces in between to showcase a few little treasures and tiny bud vases.

‘Thanks!’ I called back. ‘I like it too, though it takes ages to dust.’

‘And I have to say,’ Lizzie further commented as I rejoined her in the sitting room, ‘I absolutely adore the colour scheme you’ve gone for in here.’

‘Thank you,’ I said, carefully putting the tray on the coffee table.

‘Does it feature in any of the other rooms?’

‘It does,’ I confirmed. ‘It actually runs right through the entire cottage.’

Because I was obsessed with autumn, I had chosen an earthy, seasonal palette of muted matt orange, brown and mustard hues, with lighter touches of sage green and cream to decorate each of the rooms. Now it was finally finished, I could tell it was going to give the cottage a cosy, den-like feel throughout the whole of the year and I loved the thought of that.

‘That sounds perfect,’ said Lizzie as I poured and handed her a glass of cordial and the ice cubes chinked sociably together. ‘Thank you. This is just what I need.’

‘Me too.’ I smiled. ‘Would you like to see what I’ve done with the room that used to be the bathroom?’

‘Oh, yes, please.’

I ended up giving Lizzie a tour of the whole of the ground floor and she gratifyingly loved it all.

She admired the cushions I had found to adorn the Windsor chair in the kitchen, loved the set of vintage leaf-patterned mixing bowls on the wooden counter and the row of red geraniums in reclaimed terracotta pots in the utility cum boot room.

‘You know, I’m certain I recognise those cushions in the kitchen from somewhere,’ she said as we ended up back in the sitting room, drinking more of the cordial. ‘Did you buy them ready-made or did you source the fabric and make them up yourself?’

Her question made my shoulders tense up and my heart start to skitter again.

I knew I had featured the cushions on my Insta grid on more than one occasion and I would be devastated if by an incredible coincidence she had somehow seen that and the penny dropped because the account was entirely and purposefully anonymous.

‘And that view from the utility room window seems familiar, too, now I think about it…’ she further mused.

‘I picked the cushions up online,’ I said falteringly in the hope that I could throw her off the scent if she had indeed picked it up. ‘Given that you’re an accomplished sewer yourself, perhaps you’ve seen the same website.’

As I’d shown her around, she had told me that while Jemma ran the café and baked the most delicious cakes and other sweet treats, she taught sewing and ran all sorts of craft workshops both in the café and the gallery next door.

‘Perhaps…’

‘I thought the autumnal colours would work well with the rest of the décor,’ I further said, but Lizzie didn’t appear to have heard.

She clicked her fingers in what turned out to be a dreaded eureka moment. ‘Of course!’ she gasped. ‘That’s it! Autumn! It’s your entire aesthetic, isn’t it?’

‘I suppose you could say that,’ I nervously agreed.

‘In fact,’ she grinned, as she put down her glass and pulled out her phone, ‘you could say autumn is your everything!’

She quickly showed me the screen on her phone which I was appalled to see featured my carefully curated and, until then, anonymous Insta grid. I felt my cheeks flush and my throat go dry.

I hadn’t for one second, when I invited Lizzie over the cottage threshold, thought that I might be asking an AutumnEverything follower to join me. I had thought I was doing something positive for my mental health. Something to stop me feeling lonely!

‘I knew I recognised that bookcase,’ Lizzie carried on excitedly, completely unaware of my discomfiture as she looked at the shelves again. ‘But it was the cushions that really gave the game away. I can’t believe it.’

I was struggling to believe it, too.

‘I love your account, Clemmie,’ she gushed.

‘I mean, I really love it. Your whole aesthetic is so beautiful and just focusing on one season is… inspired. You’re a total genius and the cottage is stunning.

Jemma and my assistant, Joanne, won’t believe it when I tell them you’re the person behind it and that Rowan Cottage is the setting! They’re both huge fans.’

‘Oh no,’ I stammered, feeling panicked. ‘You can’t tell them. I don’t want anyone to—’

Unfortunately, and frustratingly, she wasn’t listening and didn’t give me the chance to beg her to keep my secret.

‘And this makes my stopping by today and finding you at home even more fortuitously timed,’ she interrupted, as she continued to look around. ‘Serendipitous, you could say. Yes, this is definitely fate.’

It felt more like bad luck to me. Very bad luck.

‘But about my Insta account—’ I tried again.

‘That’s the best bit!’ she cut in. ‘The proverbial cherry on the cake, in fact, because it makes you the perfect person!’

‘The perfect person for what?’ I frowned.

She looked so excited I thought she was going to burst.

‘For taking it on, of course!’ she further gushed, making no sense at all.

‘Taking what on?’ I asked.

‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘I’m guessing you haven’t heard about it. Let me fill you in and then I just know you won’t be able to resist saying yes! You’re the online queen of autumn, for pity’s sake!’

I already had the impression that Lizzie Dixon was the sort of woman who could talk anyone into doing anything, but she was definitely barking up the wrong tree with me. I wouldn’t be saying yes to anything, no matter how temptingly or cleverly she framed it.

‘So,’ she began, sounding only a trifle more together, ‘simply put, the town is supposed to be hosting some events this year to celebrate the ber months.’

I hadn’t expected her to snag my interest with any of what she was going to say, but she had managed it with just those few words.

‘You mean, Wynbridge is going to have an autumn festival?’ I gasped, immediately drawn in, even though I didn’t want to be. ‘There’s going to be a specific festival to celebrate the season?’

‘That’s it.’ Lizzie nodded, clearly delighted by my reaction. ‘I guessed right then? You haven’t heard about it?’

‘No,’ I confirmed. ‘No, I haven’t.’

Given that I barely left the cottage, that was no surprise, but Lizzie didn’t know that.

‘It was supposed to be a proper autumn festival,’ she then further elaborated for my benefit, ‘because thanks to the efforts of one farmer in particular, this area is fast becoming known as the pumpkin patch of East Anglia—’

‘Well, of course it is,’ I interrupted her, having momentarily forgotten that she now had the knowledge to send my world crashing down and that I was supposed to be resisting whatever she had to say.

‘The fields were full of them last autumn and there seems to be even more given over to them this year.’

The orange orbs were growing by the day and I couldn’t wait to see them at their peak ahead of harvesting. I had filled my grid with gourds last year and the response had been spectacular. I already had plans to post again as soon as they were ready.

‘I’ve noticed there are more fields planted up this year, too.’ Lizzie nodded. ‘And, as a result, autumn in the region has the potential to be even more spectacular than usual.’

‘You’re right,’ I agreed, knowing I couldn’t deny that. ‘But what’s that got to do with me?’

‘Everything!’ she announced. ‘Well, potentially everything, because I’m hoping you’ll agree to help out!’

‘With what?’ I frowned.

‘The festival, of course,’ she said, rolling her eyes as if it was obvious while she glanced around my sitting room again. ‘There isn’t going to be anyone within a five-hundred-mile radius more qualified to get stuck in with it than you, Clemmie.’

Her kind words would have been flattering had she not un-expectedly just outed me as the face behind AutumnEverything, but now they, and the terrifying prospect of her sharing her discovery, were pushed to the forefront of my mind and filled me with a sense of panic and dread that made me want to rush to lock the cottage door again.

I might have just started thinking about the possibility of visiting the town and meeting some people, but I had no intention of revealing my online persona or throwing myself in at the deep end and getting involved in some huge community project.

My reintroduction to living a more sociable life needed to happen slowly and be carefully managed if I was going to make a success of it.