Chapter Thirty-eight
Great idea. So great, everyone else seems to have had it.
When we walk into the café, we find it full. Meredith and Rhian are on waitress duty. Both are scrubbed and wearing pretty aprons with an orange tree design. As part of the test opening, most of us have also designed uniforms and branded clothing for our helpers.
“Porridge or bacon sarnies. That’s all we’re serving this morning. Leonie’s busy,” Rhian announces, sounding like she’s had lots of practice answering the same question already. “And it’s builders’ tea – take it or leave it.”
“Builders’ tea is perfect.” Llewellyn moves towards the counter and pulls out high stools for me and Alex to join him. “Two bacon sandwiches for me please, and…?” He looks at the two of us.
“Same,” Alex says.
“One for me.” I sit down and take out my wallet so I can pay now to save time.
“Don’t you dare.” Llewellyn pushes my hand away. “Breakfast’s on me.”
“No guesses why you’re so happy.” Alex laughs.
“Nymphet Nora,” the bird suddenly screeches.
A tiny silence spreads throughout. Then the entire café explodes with laughter.
“Everyone.” Alex waves a hand at the large room. “This is your chance to eat at Llewellyn’s expense while he’s in a good mood. He’s super excited because as soon we’re finished with the Easter test run, I’m taking him to meet some pretty and obliging young ladies.”
“Is this a service you’re providing?” Gethin asks, pressing the lever on his wheelchair as if raring to go. “And is it only for Llewellyn or can anyone else join?”
“I can come,” declares Ricky – who can’t be seventeen yet – with a cheeky grin. He’s sitting at a table with Ashe and Amani.
“All of you can join. Or”—Alex makes a big show of coughing and clearing his throat—“all the men.”
“That’s discrimination, that is.” Rhian brings us a large teapot.
Ashe, looking a little upset, suddenly gets up from her table and hurries out.
“She left her phone!” Amani tries to call after her. “She’ll need it if she’s doing the first guided tour.”
I slide off my stool, teacup in one hand. “I’ll take it to her. I’ve a million jobs I still have to finish before we open our gates to the public.”
“Did you have to remind her?” Llewellyn complains to Amani. “We only just managed to get her to sit down.” Then turning to me. “You haven’t even had your bacon sandwich.”
“Not hungry. You have it.” I swallow the last of my tea, grab my lever-arch file and move toward the terrace doors.
“Just make sure you come to the lectures,” Professor Jones calls as I pass him.
“Why?” Ricky pipes up. “Are you worried you’ll have an empty hall? Because lectures aren’t at all boring.” He pretends to stifle a yawn.
“That’s enough out of you.” Amani cuffs him lightly on the side of his face, which he clearly enjoys.
Amani and Ricky are working together on the social media. She not only regained her mojo, she’s also the one who pushed me to trial the Mini Adventures.
Mini Adventures are a fun interactive part of the visit.
Planned like a treasure hunt – much to Ricky’s delight – with clues that take visitors on a trail around all the individual Welsh rare plants.
But that’s a last-minute addition brainstormed with both Amani and Ricky, and I wrote up the material only yesterday.
We need to print lots of copies with the routes and clues to hand out to visitors taking part.
Another of the things I must organise this morning – I check my fitness watch – in three-and-a-half hours!
Outside, I stand at the edge and look over Hope Gardens. The sky is much lighter, and the clouds seem to have dispersed. We will have our sunny weekend. I hope, please God. The gardens won’t look their best in the rain.
“Too much bloke-ish talk inside?” Osian comes out and ambles over carrying two mugs of steaming coffee. “And now Johnny Cash has joined in.”
He hands me a cup, and I take a grateful sniff of the aromatic brew. “How did you get coffee? I thought it was builders’ tea or nothing.”
“You can’t start this day without coffee. I’ve already told all my Perllans to make sure they have a good breakfast. Heaven only knows when we’ll get a break.”
“You’re optimistic we’ll have lots of people? I dreamt that no one showed up and we were all milling around with nothing to do.”
He widens his eyes. “You mean you managed to sleep? I thought you stayed up all night.”
“You’re one to talk.” I look him up and down. He looks gorgeous in a brown Hugo Boss jumper and tapered-leg beige cords. What wardrobe stylists call laid-back smart. “It’s barely 5am and you’re showered, shaved, and dressed. And so is everyone else.”
“Everyone?” He peers at my face. “You shave very close. I can’t see even a hint of stubble. Can you teach me?”
I let my severe scowl speak for me.
“Not allowed jokes at your expense today?” He winks and sends me a quick but heart-stopping smile.
Oh God, he’s in full charm mode and doesn’t seem to realise it. It’s going to be very hard to keep him at arm’s length when my insides fizz like this and it’s not morning yet. He’s not helping, standing so close to me.
“Anyway. What can I do to help today?”
“Help?” I half-turn to stare at him. Surely he can’t have read my mind?
His expression is innocent. “If you give me some of your task list I can take care of it.”
Oh, that!
“Why is everyone trying to help me? Surely I’m not the only one with a test run this weekend.”
“No, but you have the biggest part of it.”
“Not really. Alex and the professor have exhibits and—”
“A handful of exhibits and there’s two of them.”
“Leonie will be overrun in The Orange Tree—”
He turns to look at the café. “Yes, but what you have is like ten cafés. So…” He turns back to me. “Consider me your assistant.”
I feel very uncomfortable with this. “Everyone is helping me and I have done sod all to help anyone. I feel like a parasite.”
He puts a finger under my chin and lifts my face.
“Don’t frown so much, the wind may change.
Anyway, you’ll get your chance – never fear.
I promise you’ll get your chance to help.
” I balance the lever-arch file on my arm – the one with the hand holding the coffee – and open it.
“Can you take charge of the Perllans?” I peel off one of the pages.
I haven’t had a chance to hire visitor guides, so for now, the Perllans will act as guides, information points, pathfinders and adventure leaders.
“And please remind them to wear the special vests so they can be easily identified as staff.”
I’ve ordered special worker vests in the same jade green that’s fast becoming the brand colour for most businesses here.
It appears in logos and letterheads for most of the enterprises.
My vests come with extra pockets, a mini tool belt and the phrase Kendric Park on the breast pocket.
The back says Hope Gardens. That’s my own logo: cobalt blue lettering on pale green in a cursive font with a swirl of leaves around it.
“I’ve given everyone all the info but haven’t rehearsed them. The problem is, unlike me who’s used to learning scripts, they need to practice over and over until they know it all by heart. Could you…?” A little breeze comes up and blows my hair into my face.
“Of course.” He nods, reading the list I gave him. “Anything else?”
I swat the hair away from my face, but a stubborn strand sticks to my cheek. “No, that’s all.”
“Evie?” He takes the empty coffee mug and the file and places them on the floor. Then he steps closer and touches my cheek.
I freeze.
“Before we start, I wish…” He finds the hair stuck to my face and brushes it away.
“…wish you good luck for today. You deserve the very best.” He leans in; I feel a flutter of warmth on my face, a hint of aftershave, then his lips on my cheek.
Then he steps away.
Don’t I have enough to worry about today? Did he have to distract me like this?
It’s hard for me to trust myself around men; I see mixed signals even when the message is clear.
But my body seems to have no trouble understanding this signal.
This is not the same Osian who used to have a do-not-touch bubble around him.
Everything from the quick (friendly?) kiss on the cheek, the first time he’s kissed me.
To the hot touch of his hand brushing away an errant strand of hair.
All send the same message. Even just now, the way he notices me frowning, trying to argue with myself.
“Don’t worry so much.” He smiles. “Leave it to me.”
I do.
I leave it to him.
Osian not only takes the ball and runs with it, he notices all the gaps and smoothly fills them in. Like any sports coach, he motivates and inspires, notices where I might be unsure and reassures me.
“Remember to smile,” he tells his team ten minutes before we open our gates. “This should be fun and it is your achievement. Remember how you started with all the dead bushes and overgrown weeds. You should be proud of the result. Share some of this excitement with your visitors.”
Their faces glow with confidence and enthusiasm.
It lasts all through Easter. For the entire four-day weekend they mingle with the crowds, answering questions, handing out leaflets and leading so many different tours we sell out.
They even invent a couple more. In addition to the Rose Arcade, the Wildflowers and the Rare Herbs tours, they add a Pond and Water Plants tour.
Everything is fully booked; we have to lay on extra activities.
The day before we started, Amani and Ricky suggested we include an improvised online version of the quizzes.
None of us imagined the knock-on effect.
It attracts a couple of bloggers who turn up Friday morning, half an hour before the doors open.
They take pictures and interview anyone standing still.
Shirley and Gethin take them in hand and tell them tantalising stories about Kendric House.
It all goes viral on social media and attracts a lot more visitors for the rest of the weekend.
Leonie has to find more tables and put them out on the terrace to keep up with customers.
Even Alex and the professor’s lectures are standing room only.
A shame because I’d been looking forward to watching.
The success is wonderful, but it means Osian and I are working flat out. Every now and then I catch him looking at me, his eyes full of encouragement and pride. We have no chance to talk. Not until Monday evening.
At last, the Easter test run is almost over.
A few visitors are still in the café but the gardens are officially closed.
So it’s our chance – partners, workers, volunteers, and the Squad – to catch Alex’s much-hyped lecture about the secret of Kendric House.
It’s a repeat because the earlier session was full to overflowing.
On my way to the ballroom, I find Osian loitering just outside.
“Hey.” Instinctively my hands smooth down my cornflower-blue jumper.
Each day, I’ve taken care to wear a colour from one of the fan gardens.
All except orange. I don’t think many women can pull off orange, not unless they’re Spanish or Middle Eastern.
When I started at Styler TV, the make-up girls did my colour analysis and told me to avoid autumnal colours unless I wanted to look anaemic or hungover.
Blue, on the other hand, suits me very well, especially with the dark-brown hair I now have.
“Going to the presentation?” he asks, his eyes on the door to the ballroom.
“Aren’t we all?” Alex and the professor made it sound like quite a story. And if the hum of the audience inside is anything to go by, it’s going to be standing room only.
“Isaias is holding two seats for us, but we’d better hurry before someone makes him give them up.” Osian offers me his arm in an old-fashioned invitation.
“How very Victorian gentleman of you!” I take his arm, secretly pleased we’re sitting together.
“It’s a lecture about a Victorian story. We’re matching the trend.”
“I have something for you.” I hold up two small green bottles.
A couple of weeks ago, I overheard him and Evan talking about beer and Osian said he used to like something called Rolling Rock, which is hard to find here in Wales.
I’ve had the two cold bottles cooling in my fridge until ten minutes ago.
“Where the hell did you find these?” His surprise and the pleasure in his face are reward enough.
“You can order anything online.” I smirk at him.
“Thank you.”