‘Now, I’m going to show you how to use the chisel.’
I watched closely as he smoothed the wood away under the sharp blade, his skilled hands and confidence sending shivers down my spine.
‘Would you like a go?’
‘I beg your pardon?’
I was shaken out of my reverie abruptly, then realised he was handing me the tool.
‘Oh, yes, thank you, great.’
I tried to emulate his movements, whilst picturing the as yet unrevealed star and, to my delight, a shape began to emerge. Lando offered gentle guidance: muttered comments and occasionally a hand on mine to guide the chisel correctly and coax the shape from the wood until, eventually, I was holding a star in my hand – crude maybe, but a bona fide star. I looked up at Lando and beamed.
‘Look at that! I did it!’
‘Of course you did, well done.’
He looked as pleased as I felt, and we grinned at each other as proudly and dizzily as if it had been a new-born baby rather than a little wooden star that we had created together. He showed me how to sand it, then took it from me in exchange for a fresh glass of champagne as he brushed it all over with oil.
‘There you go, that needs a little while to dry and then you can take it. I’ll bring it up to the house tomorrow. Would you like me to make a hole in it so you can hang it?’
I nodded, suddenly feeling shy now that I had nothing to occupy me other than my drink.
‘Yes, thank you. Although I’m not sure it deserves its place on that tree with those beautiful decorations.’
‘You do yourself down a lot, Penny. You shouldn’t. Your star is a work of art. A simple one, maybe, but a work of art nonetheless, and it deserves its place to shine.’
‘Don’t you think it’s a bit – boring?’
‘No, Penny, I don’t. It was created with care and vision; it brings pleasure to look at and to touch and it represents light and brilliance. Its wood came from a living tree, and it was hewn into shape by us working together. It has a story, a presence, as much if not more than any of its flashier relations. It is rich in its humility. Doyouthink it’s boring?’
I shook my head, stared fiercely at my knees, trying to force down the tears that were springing to my eyes, so moved was I by his words.
‘No,’ I whispered. ‘I don’t. I think it’s wonderful.’
He put a finger under my chin and tilted my face up so that I was looking into his sincere brown eyes.
‘So do I,’ he said.
This time only one thought filled my head:He’s going to kiss me. Oh, bloody hell, he’s going to kiss me.
The rest of my brain was a sort of background buzz of panic and excitement and terror. It reminded me of being at university, just starting out in life and romance, that heady mix of feelings when you knew exactly what was about to happen but hadn’t had time tothinkabout it, and your friend is saying, ‘Don’tthinkabout it, Penny,enjoyit’ and you’re going: but what if, what if, what if? And all those thoughts and feelings race through you in a millisecond, and then he’s kissing you and everything fizzes and you’re not sure if that’s in a good way or not.
Except he didn’t. One minute he was absolutely going to and the next the brown eyes gazing soulfully into mine were somewhat different. I let out a scream of laughter as the tension shattered.
‘Garbo! What doyouwant?’
She definitely grinned at me as she clambered up onto Lando’s shoulders and settled with a sigh. He reached up and stroked her silken back, smiling ruefully.
‘I’m afraid my chaperone here is a creature of habit and it’s time for her to go out before bed. You could set your clock by her.’
I felt a curious mixture of disappointment and relief as I stood up.
‘It’s time for me to get back, anyway, it’s going to be another busy day with the twins tomorrow. They have a birthday party to go to.’
Lando looked as if he was going to say something else, then changed his mind.
‘Got it. Come on, we’ll walk you up to the house.’
