Alex’s smile continued. ‘Some things are better left to the experts. Although I do need some wool.’
‘Then you’ve come to the right place.’ I raised an eyebrow, smirking as I gestured to the rows upon rows of available stock.
Alex shook his head. ‘Very funny.’
‘What kind of wool are you talking about?’ I asked.
Alex wrinkled his nose and shrugged. ‘I’m thinking grey. No wait, blue.’ He placed his hands on the counter. ‘Maybe greyish blue?’
‘Chunky? Double-knit? Arran? Merino?’
‘Now you’re just showing off.’
I chuckled.
‘To be honest, I didn’t ask. It’s to send to my Grandma. First, she tells me she’s knitting me a scarf for Christmas, then insistsIbuy the wool. Savvy or what?’
I let out another laugh, liking the sound of the woman. ‘Cashmere it is?’ Moving towards the shelves, I paused. ‘Unless you’re vegan?’
‘Nope.’ Alex looked at me confused. ‘Why? Does that matter?’
‘Never mind.’ I scanned the available options. ‘This one’s nice.’ I handed him a ball. ‘I must warn you cashmere’s expensive. But it’s perfect for the job. Not only is it the one of the finest and softest of wools, it’s also the warmest.’
As if assessing its texture, he squeezed and caressed the yarn; actions I found distracting.
‘And it’s durable,’ I said, my voice cracking. ‘Like I told you, it’s not your cheapest option, but your scarf could easily last ten years if you take care of it properly.’ The room suddenly felt hot and after one yarn caress from Alex too many, I snatched the wool from him. ‘My gran was forever knitting stuff for me. Hats, jumpers, you name it, she used to make it.’
‘Used to?’
‘She passed away. Eighteen months ago, now.’ As soon as the words were out, I could have kicked myself. When it came to the laws of general chitchat, I’d long learned that the death of a loved one was a conversation stopper.
Alex rolled his eyes, proving himself an exception to the rule. ‘My grandma’s not going anywhere.’
I gasped. ‘You can’t say that.’
‘Why not? It’s true. You’d say the same if you met her. She has a severe case of FOMO. No way is she gonna miss out on what the rest of us are up to. She’ll outlive us all. Saying that, Mum and Avery are just as nosey.’
‘You have a brother?’
‘Sister. She’s my twin. Not that we look alike. She got the good genes.’ He retrieved his wallet from his back pocket and opened it. ‘Here, see you for yourself.’ Pulling out a photo, he handed it to me. ‘This was all of us last year.’
Taken outdoors, it was a typical family snapshot. There were no Instagram-ready poses, everyone simply grinned at the camera. They all had rosy cheeks and wore wellington boots and winter coats. There was a smattering of snow on the ground and a thatched cottage behind them. ‘Is that your mum?’
Alex nodded.
The woman was tiny compared to Alex. She had thick dark hair that was loosely piled on the top of her head, and she wore a thick brown wool overcoat with a floral scarf and Doc Marten boots. She reminded me of Helena Bonham Carter.
‘Oh, and look at your grandma.’ Glasses perched on the end of her nose, her elbows were tucked in and her hands clasped under her ample boobs. She had the cheekiest of smiles and like Alex’s mum, she was short in stature. I looked up at Alex, perplexed. ‘Where do you get your height from?’
‘Dad’s side. They’re all giants. Mum and dad are divorced, which is why he’s not in this picture. Those are my nieces and nephew.’
I took in the three girls and one boy.
‘And that’s Avery,’ he said.
I tilted my head as I looked at Alex. ‘No kidding, Sherlock.’ Her height and looks spoke for themselves.
It was clear from the way Alex talked about his family they were close. I liked that. One of the things I missed about Gran was the banter we shared.
