It was actually working. They were on Ally’s side.
‘Any other suggestions?’ she tried.
‘I could add automotive skills to our offering?’ said McIntyre. ‘A sort of learn how to change a tyre and do an oil change sort of thing? One-to-ones or small groups, out on the driveway. Reckon that’d be popular.’
‘That would be so helpful,’ Ally said, her voice bubbling with happiness. ‘I’ve no idea how to do those things so there must be others like me.’
‘There we go, then. Decided.’ McIntyre stretched his legs and crossed his ankles.
A hand lifted in the semi-circle. All eyes turned to the quiet and unassuming Cary Anderson. He’d listened patiently to all these ideas and seemed to be striking upon one of his own, if the gleam in his eyes was anything to go by.
‘Yes, Cary? Go on…’ Ally prompted gently.
‘Well,’ he began, his voice so scratchy and low the repairers leaned in and fixed their faces in concentrated listening. ‘I learned carpentry from my grandad. He’d been an apprentice at the old sawmill at fourteen and was a foreman at forty, building house frames and floorboards and fitting cabinets and stairs, the lot. Half the builds in the old estates were Grandad’s, and then my dad followed after him as a draughtsman, but who’s teaching the kids these skills?’
‘There’s a definite skills gap on the horizon if we don’t teach young people these things now,’ Ally said, hoping this meant he was about to volunteer more of his time.
Cary thought for a second before saying, ‘I could build a few workbenches with woodworking clamps, at a child’s height, and teach the beginnings of it all; measuring, sawing, sanding, joining, if you can bring in the younger ones to learn it?’
‘A woodworking kids’ club?’ said Ally.
‘Is it a daft idea?’ Cary asked, his handsome brows crumpling as doubt struck and he slipped into silence again.
‘No! It’s a brilliant idea! Let’s try it,’ McIntyre jumped in. ‘I’ll help with that too.’
This set off a little ripple of applause. This was going better than Ally could have dreamed.
‘I could host a sewing circle?’ Roz said.
‘Or a design masterclass?’ added Willie. ‘Your creative darning repairs are the best I’ve seen, Peaches.’
His fellow fashion student accepted the compliment with a huge smile. ‘I don’t mind showing people how to do those. Easy,’ she told the group with a shrug. ‘I already demonstrate Swiss darning techniques and Japanese Sashiko embroidery on our socials.’
‘And I can easily teach anyone how to crochet a granny square,’ chimed Willie.
‘That’s true, he can. He taught me in, like, ten minutes,’ Peaches concurred.
‘We could call ourselves the Highland Happy Hookers!’ shouted Rhona, lifted to her feet with inspiration, before realising it didn’t have quite the right ring to it and lowering herself sombrely into her seat once more, Senga greeting her with a kindly pat on the knee.
‘We could do with some kind of recruitment drive for new repairers generally,’ concluded Sachin, who’d been listening carefully to all of this.
‘That’s exactly what I’m proposing,’ said Ally.
‘So… what we’re talking about is opening the barn up for these…’ McIntyre circled a wrist looking for the vocabulary.
‘Mixers?’ tried Sachin.
‘Community classes?’ tried Cary quietly.
‘Skill shares?’ Peaches suggested.
‘Welcoming, safe spaces, and… everything you just said!’ Ally was grinning again. ‘That’s exactly what I’m saying, and not just on repair Saturdays, but on other days of the week too. For people of all ages and backgrounds and from all over the region. So what do you think? Should we try it?’
‘No harm in trying,’ McIntyre said.
‘We’d need more space for all that,’ came a voice that made everyone whip their heads around to face the doorway.
Murray dropped his bag from his shoulder and stepped inside.
