Chapter Seventy-Five
On Sunday, when it was time to leave the treehouse, Flora found herself wishing that their weekend didn’t have to end.
Everything about it had been magical. Their swims in the loch, cooking together and eating outside on the deck as the sun had set.
The sound of his laughter. Last night they had sat outside, wrapped in blankets and drinking wine under the stars.
They had been in their own bubble, where time had slowed down and they could just focus on each other.
Brodie had hardly left her side apart from a couple of times when he had nipped to the village for some provisions.
She had teased him that she hadn’t realised it took that long to go and buy a few pastries.
Brodie had shaken his head and protested that now he knew how Iris felt.
Apparently, he had bumped into some of the chattiest locals, who had kept him from making a swift return to the treehouse.
It was the most romantic setting she’d ever been in and Flora knew that her decision to stay in Rowan Bay was the right one.
And not just because of Brodie. He was the icing on a very delicious cake.
The location, the setting, the people. She felt like she had come home.
After checking out, Brodie insisted on walking her back to the boathouse. Yet as they neared the cottage, he seemed jittery and a bit anxious which was unusual. He was normally so laid-back. ‘Are you okay?’ she asked, worried there was something on his mind.
He half-smiled. ‘Just not relishing the thought of being back in the real world. I could have stayed there forever with you and been very happy.’
Flora sighed. ‘It was incredible. Thank you, Brodie. You know you’ve set the bar high for me when it comes to me organising our next weekend away.’
He raised an eyebrow at her and his eyes now danced with mischief. ‘I’m already looking forward to it.’
Flora opened the gate into the back garden.
‘I wonder if Gran is home.’ There was no sign of Iris on the patio and the back door was closed.
But as she looked towards the loch she gasped in surprise.
For a moment, Flora didn’t move. She couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.
She looked at Brodie and then back to what looked very like an outside office.
Or a studio. The garden studio she had been dreaming of.
That had somehow appeared as though by magic in her gran’s garden.
She dropped her bags on the patio and then ran down the lawn towards it, the scent of new wood in the air.
‘Wh-what is this?’ she stammered, looking at Brodie, who had followed her.
‘How did this happen? Where did it come from?’ Her voice was barely a whisper as she took in the studio that was exactly how she had imagined it would be.
It was as though her vision had come to life.
Brodie stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her. ‘Remember that day when we were out on your grandpa’s rowing boat? You told me how much you loved the garden and the view of the loch and how one day you would like to have a space in the garden to work from.’
He had remembered her telling him that. In that moment Flora fell in love with him all over again. She couldn’t believe he had remembered.
Brodie’s voice was tender as he explained.
‘I happened to mention it to your gran a while back, when she was talking to me about whether you would stay on, and she said she had found some drawings of a studio in one of your sketchpads. She thought it was a great idea and wished she had thought of it.’
Flora smiled, as she leaned back into Brodie’s chest. She had no idea that her gran had looked at that particular pad she left in the conservatory. She had never mentioned anything about it.
‘She wanted you to have your own workspace, especially as you are staying in Rowan Bay. And so we started to make a plan . . .’
Brodie took her hand and they walked towards it, taking in all the details which were familiar to her.
It was made of timber and had the huge windows she had sketched.
It was also in the perfect spot she had imagined it would be with that wonderful view over the water.
‘I can’t believe you did this for me.’ Tears smarted in her eyes as she was overcome with emotion.
‘I still don’t understand how you managed it. ’
‘Come on,’ said Brodie, unlocking the door. ‘Have a look.’
Flora stepped into the space which was quiet and still, aside from bird chatter in the garden.
She turned to look out the huge windows.
That view. This was exactly how she imagined a workspace in the garden would be.
Inside was empty, but she was already planning where her sewing machine would sit.
She would need some storage for her fabric and buttons and pins and .
. . she was going to have so much fun kitting it all out.
She was still completely gobsmacked that it was here and couldn’t understand it.
‘But how did you get it done when you were at the treehouse with me? Did you wave a wand or something?’
‘With a little help from my friends’, he laughed. ‘Your gran and I have been planning it for a few weeks.’
Flora looked at him in surprise. ‘What, before we got back together?’
Brodie scratched the back of his neck. ‘Yes. Regardless of whether you forgave me, I wanted to do something for you. And your gran said that whether you chose to stay on permanently or not, she really wanted you to have a workspace of your own that you could use when you visited.’
She felt a lump in her throat and in that moment, words failed her. This had completely thrown her and surprised her in a way she could never have expected.
Brodie smiled as he gestured at the structure.
‘We had your drawings and Reuben helped with the design. We managed to pull some favours in to get a few adjustments made to a prefabricated garden office. It was delivered here on Saturday morning and Reuben and Ross and some of his guys put it up. It was the only way I could do it for you and keep it as a surprise.’ He frowned.
‘But it was tough not being on hand to project manage it.’
Flora laughed. ‘So those times you nipped into the village for provisions over the weekend — and took a while — you were here doing your foreman thing?’
Brodie grinned. ‘You’ve got it. Saying I’d got chatting to people in the high street was so you didn’t get suspicious. I couldn’t resist checking that it was all going to plan. And it was, of course. But I wanted to make sure it was perfect.’
‘It’s better than perfect, Brodie. And the fact you arranged it and made it a surprise . . . I thought the treehouse was incredible enough.’
Brodie looked relieved. ‘I’m so glad you love it. We just wanted you to have somewhere that was yours.’
Flora wrapped her arms around him, overcome with love for this man and this place. She tilted her head up. ‘Has Gran seen it yet?’
‘Oh yes. She took on my role of project manager and ran a very tight ship. But she also supplied endless cups of tea and cake. Which kept them all happy.’
Flora chuckled, her heart swelling with love for her gran. She was so relieved she was back to her old self.
‘Though she was worried about the birds giving the game away. She must have let slip in front of them and Sidney mentioned the word “studio” a few times. Did you notice?’
Flora shook her head in amusement, remembering his random new words on Friday and, yes, one of them had been studio. But she didn’t think anything of it at the time as Scrumpy had mentioned “wedding bells” straight after. That was perhaps something to keep to herself for now.
The sun was streaming through the windows casting a golden pattern on the floor. It felt like the start of something new and, with Brodie by her side, she knew she was exactly where she was meant to be.