Dear Diary,
I got up early today and sneaked out of the house down to the sea. The sunrise was so bright and pink, it was beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it. Everything is slower here, more gentle. I don’t think I’ll ever want to go home. At the beach I went for a paddle in the water, right up to my knees! It was freezing but thrilling. It felt marvellous to know I’d done something small and secret like this. Afterwards I sat and watched the boats go out. One of the men kept looking at me. I was a bit far away to see what he looked like, but he was tall and nicely built. I am curious. Something about the day felt different, like a page had turned. I’m not sure if that sounds silly or not. Joan would say it does. I rather fancy a trip on one of the boats myself, but I know the men are working and not here to take girls out sailing, but I can hope. Or better than hope, I can ask. Yes, I’ll ask, after all, Mum usually says I’m not backwards about coming forwards.
Despite the fact the sky looked as if it was about to chuck it down at any moment, Lola and Freya stood in the doorway of the café watching, as further up the harbour road, on the paved area in front of the pub, Tristan, Angelo and Steve were attempting to fix together an assortment of lobster pots. Alf was perched on a rickety stool, supervising, Scruff curled at his feet. The men were trying to listen to Sue as she flapped about, waving the photo she’d printed off under their noses. Tristan eventually placated her panicking as Angelo rubbed his head with frustration.
Freya stifled a giggle. ‘It looks like a case of too many cooks spoiling the broth.’
Lola grimaced as the pot Tristan had tried to position toppled off. ‘I’m not sure Tristan really knows what he’s doing.’
‘At least Angelo knows a bit about sticking unusual objects together. Oh dear, if she’s not careful I think Steve might tip Sue into the harbour.’
They watched as Alf stood up, hands out in a placating way. Sue put down the life ring she’d been holding and took a step back. Realising the best approach would be to remove Sue from the operation and let the men get on with the task, Lola called her name and waved her over. The men stopped work and watched as Sue retreated towards the café, only taking up tools when Lola had pulled her inside and given them a thumbs up to confirm it was safe for them to continue.
‘Come on, let’s have a cuppa, leave them to it. I’ve got some shortbread fresh from the oven,’ Lola said as she closed the café door behind them.
‘Sounds scrummy,’ Sue admitted, with a glance over her shoulder towards the café’s door, ‘but I’m a bit worried they won’t do it right.’
‘Angelo knows what he’s doing,’ Freya reassured her. ‘He used to be a sculptor so making things comes naturally to him.’ Freya looked at Lola. Neither of them felt it needed mentioning that Angelo’s art was obscure structures made out of metal. Sue wanted a Michelangelo, not a Picasso of a lobster pot tree.
Sue looked rather embarrassed. ‘Yes, I’m sure you’re right. It’ll all be fine. Who would have thought organising Christmas in a small village would be so stressful?’
‘It’s just because you want to do it well.’ Lola smiled at Sue as she passed her a steaming mug of tea.
‘Maybe I should’ve listened to Cathy and just had a normal, real tree or just done the light switch on, like we’ve done in the past. I think the success of the Fisherman’s Fair this summer has got me a bit carried away.’
‘Nonsense!’ Lola exclaimed. ‘I won’t hear it. I think the lobster pot tree is a fabulous idea, in keeping with our seafaring past. You just need to trust the menfolk to do it their way.’ She pushed the plate of biscuits across the table, encouraging Sue to take another. ‘I also love the idea of the Festive Festival, we’ve had lots of people pick up leaflets and say they’ll pop along.’ Rather than reassuring Sue, this made her face blanch.
‘No pressure then!’ She laughed nervously as she reached for another biscuit.
While Sue was distracted with tea and biscuits and quizzing Freya about Angelo’s artistic credentials, Lola took the opportunity to take hot drinks out to the workers, which they fell upon.
Steve tipped three sugars into his tea and shook his head. ‘This is madness, I don’t know why we couldn’t just have a proper tree.’ He gave the lower layer of pots a kick. They wobbled slightly.
‘You have to admit it does look rather nice,’ Tristan placated. ‘I rather like how it links to our fishing past.’
Alf chuckled. ‘I thought it was a bit mad to begin with but I actually like it.’ He held on to the photo Sue had left with them. ‘After all, the pots are just lying around, might as well use them.’
Angelo said nothing but was rubbing his chin thoughtfully as he prowled around the base several times, sizing it up, making mental calculations, his hair whipped wild by the wind that was getting up. This was quite clearly the distraction from the house he needed. He knocked back his coffee and passed the cup back to Lola.
‘It’s OK, boys. Freya is keeping Sue distracted in the café, so I reckon you have at least forty minutes to make a go of it.’ Lola told them. Scruff barked encouragingly. ‘I’ll make some bacon sandwiches when you’re done,’ was her parting shot in the hope it’d help speed things up.
Before she headed back into the café, Lola cast a glance over her shoulder, pleased to see that now caffeinated and with Sue out of the way, the men had quickly organised themselves and were working on the best way to stack and secure the pots. Lola didn’t feel the need to tell Sue that Angelo had dismantled the entire thing and was now directing proceedings. She’d distract her with knitting pattern talk instead.
An hour later, Lola’s phone beeped with a text from Tristan to let her know it was all done. ‘Ladies, shall we pop along and see how it’s turned out?’ she asked.
Sue was up and out in a flash, leaving Freya and Lola to stick a note to the café door saying they’d be back in five minutes, and lock up.
In the middle of the harbour they found a pyramid of lobster pots which Tristan and Steve were decorating with various bits of fishing paraphernalia, including the life ring Sue had been clutching on to at the start of the project. Angelo was making sure the structure was secure.
‘Oh wow! That’s marvellous! You’ve all done a super job; I was silly to doubt you.’ Sue clapped her hands together. ‘It’s a lot taller than I expected. Do you have all the lights?’
‘We’re just fixing them,’ Tristan said, picking up the tangled mess of lights. ‘We couldn’t have done this without Angelo’s direction. He’s the only one of us who’s ever built anything.’
Angelo ignored the praise as he jumped down from the top of the tree. ‘It’s sturdy enough and shouldn’t blow away, even in a gale.’ To demonstrate, he gave it a little shake, which made Sue gasp.
Alf chuckled to himself. ‘I should hope not. Cathy would be onto us with all her health and safety stuff.’ Everyone laughed. Cathy was known for trying to disrupt the peace in village proceedings.
‘It’s best to be safe, Alf,’ Sue reminded him. ‘Thank you, Angelo, for showing me the tree is secure. Let’s all hope we don’t get any horrific winter storms.’
