Page 30 of All Wrapped Up

The first few days of autumn arrived in a blaze of bright sunshine, which provided the perfect backdrop for some time at home.

My priority for the equinox, which kicked the week off, was to dress the interior of the cottage.

Then, in the days that followed, have a bit of a tidy up in the garden (but not to the detriment of the birds and wildlife) and stock the freezer with sustaining soups, pasties and stews which I could then look forward to after days spent at the festival, when I wouldn’t have time to cook from scratch.

‘Not that one, Pixie,’ I laughed, as she stuck her inquisitive rather than destructive paws in and out of the decoration boxes and bags it had seemed to take me hours to single-handedly lug down from the loft. ‘We’ll start with these.’

Getting reacquainted with the autumn decorations felt nothing like as emotional as when I unpacked for Christmas.

Practically all of what I had gathered together to celebrate the ber months had been found in the years after Callum had died, so there was little in the way of emotional attachment that inspired as much sadness as excitement as the tree decorations did and I was pleased about that.

My love of autumn was an obsession that was solely my own and l laughed as I opened each box and had ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ moments over everything I rediscovered.

‘Let’s start upstairs, Pixie,’ I said and she happily woofed in agreement. ‘Then we can work our way down.’

The colours I had chosen for the cottage meant that the rooms always looked autumnal, but the bedding, cushions and fresh towels further transformed the bedrooms and bathroom and the metres of fairy light leaf garlands, which also lit up downstairs, too, draped over the headboards, around doors and along the banister, helped to enhance the look even more.

In the sitting room, the focus was the hearth and mantel and by mid-afternoon both were covered in pumpkin fairy lights, tiny fly agaric ornaments, more leaf garlands, woodland scented candles and pumpkins of all sizes, made from all kinds of fabric and materials.

‘Good girl,’ I praised Pixie, who had been keen to sniff everything, but so far, hadn’t been bothered about pulling any of it apart. That boded well for when the potted Christmas tree was carried back inside, too. ‘Now, let’s get something to eat.’

Pixie had her usual meal, while I tucked into delicious squash soup which was velvety smooth and richly fragrant thanks to the addition of some smoky paprika.

After that, we went for a long walk along the drove to stretch our legs ahead of adding cushions, throws and a rug to the sitting room and transforming the kitchen, utility cum boot room and porch.

I hadn’t really been in the mood for a walk as I wanted to carry straight on, but we hadn’t gone far before my effort to get some steps in, and give Pixie a decent run, was rewarded.

Initially, I thought I had imagined it, but when I stopped and properly tuned in, there was no mistaking the sound of geese flying overhead.

I stepped on to the verge and shielded my eyes from the glare of the dipping sun and sure enough, there was a perfect V of pink-footed geese flying overhead and honking loudly.

I would have loved to have known what they were saying to each other and I felt a prickle of tears as I remembered I had wondered the very same thing the year before.

My breath caught as I realised how utterly different my life was now. The dramatic changes hadn’t even occurred over the last twelve months, or even weeks. It was all down to just one month and the arrival of new friends and my beloved autumn. How lucky was I?

‘Come on then, Pixie!’ I laughed. ‘Let’s get on. We’ve still got loads left to do!’

It was time for dinner when I’d finished dressing the cottage completely to my satisfaction and I spent the evening first fussing Pixie, then checking the festival pages online and finally, taking photographs of parts of the rooms which I would use on AutumnEverything over the coming months.

I had been tempted to share a photograph of the geese, but feeling that spotting them that day had been such a special moment, I ultimately decided to keep it to myself.

I had barely finished posting an image of one of my autumn wreaths in lieu of the geese, when Lizzie commented on it and then sent me a photo of Ash and a few people I didn’t recognise, standing on the edge of what looked like woods.

My guess was that Ash had found some people to join him on his walk around the new nature trail at Skylark Farm.

I examined the image closer and thought he appeared a little out on a limb, but given how handsome he looked, all wrapped up in a knitted scarf and woolly hat, and the fact that there appeared to be a couple of women also there on their own, I didn’t think he’d be alone for long.

‘We wish you were here,’ I read aloud as Lizzie’s accompany-ing message loaded. ‘We’re heading to the pub in a bit if you fancy joining us?’

I glanced at the clock. I supposed I had time to get changed and join them in The Mermaid, but truth be told, what I had said to Ash still held.

My heart belonged to Pixie and my cosy little home that evening and I was right where I needed to be.

I no longer wanted to be holed up in Rowan Cottage forever, but a couple more days would completely restore my equilibrium after my intense bout of being sociable, and I had no desire to overrule that feeling.

Not tonight, but I’ll see you all soon, I therefore messaged back. Happy autumn!

By Thursday, I had satisfied my need to mentally rest and reset, which was just as well as the Fenview Farm Autumn Feast was happening that evening.

That week, I had spent as many hours outdoors as in, keen to take advantage of the dry weather, and the garden was looking much better as a result.

I had also taken lots of walks and seen loads more geese which was a total treat and I’d taken a few decent long-range photos that I shared just with Mum and Dad and then filed away for myself.

It was mid-afternoon when Ash’s truck pulled up and I realised, as he climbed out, that I had missed him every bit as much as Pixie who was greeting him with a cacophony of ecstatic barks and much tail wagging and jumping up at the gate.

I hadn’t purposefully avoided him, because I had just been getting on with things, but I realised with a jolt that the radio silence had been rather louder than I might have expected it to be.

‘Hello, stranger,’ I greeted him as he opened the gate and scooped Pixie up, though he couldn’t keep proper hold of her for long because she was wriggling so much.

He was wearing the same berry coloured scarf he’d had on in the photo Lizzie had sent and I suddenly found myself wondering if there had been someone among the group who had thought he looked as handsome in it as I did.

Irrationally, I hoped not, then quickly dismissed the thought because it wasn’t any of my business.

‘I know I haven’t been in touch,’ he said, almost apologetically. ‘But we’ve been run off our feet at the practice and I’ve been immersed in a bit of a side quest, too. Also, I didn’t want to disturb your peace and quiet.’

‘Oh, Ash,’ I said. ‘You are kind, but I wouldn’t have minded if you had called.’

‘Really?’ he sighed. ‘Then I wish I had now. I’ll bear it in mind next time.’

‘You’re always welcome,’ I told him and meant it.

‘So, what are you up to then?’ he asked. ‘I hope I’m not disturbing you now?’

‘Not at all. In fact, I’m glad of the interruption, because I’m scrubbing out my bird feeders and it isn’t the most glamorous of chores.’

‘It’s essential though,’ he smiled. ‘And perfectly timed.’

‘Tis the season,’ I joked.

‘I didn’t mean that,’ he laughed, as Pixie continued to scamper about.

‘What then?’

‘I have some presents for you, courtesy of the side quest,’ he grinned. ‘Keep hold of Pixie and I’ll get them out of the truck.’

‘Oh, Ash,’ I said, as I picked Pixie up. ‘You’ve only just gifted me fairy Aurora, so you shouldn’t be giving me anything else.’

‘Where is she, by the way?’ he asked, as he walked back through the gate.

‘Currently sitting next to the fireplace,’ I told him. ‘I think she’s found her spot.’

He unloaded a small cardboard box, then a wooden sort of base and finally a magnificent painted and decorated bird table which would sit perfectly on top of it.

‘That’s the lot,’ he said, closing the gate so I could put Pixie down again.

‘Is this really for me?’ I gasped, as I looked at the details on the table.

‘It is,’ he smiled shyly. ‘And there’s this, too.’

Inside the box was a small feeding table, which matched the large one, but was designed to hang in a tree or under a ledge, by a metal chain.

‘What do you think?’ Ash asked nervously as he held it up.

Everything was painted in a base coat of brown, but decorated with autumn motifs in orange, red and yellow.

‘I don’t think they turned out too bad for a first attempt and I only hammered my thumb instead of the wood a couple of hundred times. ’

‘You made these?’ I swallowed.

‘I did,’ he said, sounding proud, but still a little shy. ‘And the paint job is all my own work, too. Of course, I won’t mind if you wanted to change that. It’s not the best, but the woodwork is pretty sound. My old DT teacher would be impressed.’

‘You made these for me?’ I swallowed again.

‘Yep,’ he said, trying to make it sound as though it wasn’t much, but to me it was everything. ‘I noticed your other table was on its last legs, so I thought I’d buy you a new one. Then I thought I’d have a go at making one myself and got… well, a bit carried away.’

I was tempted to throw my arms around him and hug him, but mindful that I’d already spontaneously kissed his cheek just the week before, I didn’t want to overstep.