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They are off talking over each other, fizzing with excitement. It’s quite something to witness the birth of an idea and how with only a little encouragement from Pierre, Elodie carries the vision, developing a tiny idea into an entire theme.
“Let’s work in the back garden so we don’t get paint all over the new floor.”
And off they disappear like a whirlwind into the back of the house.
The space suddenly feels empty and eerily quiet without them.
Gabriel and I sort through the rest of the junk and manage to salvage a large chest of drawers. With minor touch ups, we make a decent shop counter. Inspired by Elodie’s creative solutions, I save the drawers to use for a display case by screwing them to a short step-ladder, one drawer to each rung on both sides, it makes a pyramid of small shelves. She can paint it later, I’m sure.
“I can’t believe someone has donated this.” Gabriel squats in front of a dining table large enough for twelve. “It looks expensive.”
“It doesn’t work, see here?” I show him the broken butterfly mechanism. “It’s a shame to lose it though. The surface is a nice French polish.”
“If your clever saw can cut the table in half.” He runs a finger along the joint. “It’ll make a decent table for the tasting demonstrations she wants. The other half we can cut again on the diagonal to make the window display.”
“Why diagonal?”
“Because people walking down the lane will be looking from an angle, so you need to cheat the perspective, it’ll draw the eye inside to the display she has against the walls.”
“Do you always see things that aren’t really there?”
He shrugs. “I’d be a poor photographer if I couldn’t. I’ve established a career on taking pictures that reveal what most people don’t notice.”
This is exactly the kind of thing I wish I had. My mind is too practical, and years of chasing structural surveys have only made me even more boring. Spending the last few hours with these three has opened my eyes to what it’s like to have a vision.
Elodie in particular.
If she’d handed me the two rooms and asked me to renovate them, I would have done a competent job and given her two perfectly finished rooms. But she…
She’s making a place with personality.
And a few hours later, she shows me exactly what’s been lacking in my life for the last ten years. The thing I tried to explain to Lynsey in our break-up conversation.
“Thank you, this is amazing.” Elodie, now splattered with multi-coloured paint drops looks over the shelves I made for her. “Did you do this with your magic drill?”
“Why magic?”
“It doesn’t just make holes in things; it also screws things together.”
“It’s what electric drills do.” I laugh. Out of the corner of my eyes, I see Pierre and Gabriel laugh too and she nudges him. Probably another private joke.
“Let's stop for a break,” Elodie says. “Lunch ready in twenty minutes. I hope you all like pizza.”
I turn back to her. “In that case do you have any smaller jobs I can do in twenty minutes?”
She considers this and her hand goes to tug on the ends of her hair.
“What?”
She bites her lower lip then shakes her head. “It’s fine.”
“Ask me. If it’s too difficult, I’ll say no.”
After a moment’s hesitation, she takes the plunge. “Can you see all these bits of wood?” She points to the left over table legs and chair legs. “I was thinking if you magic-drill them together to make small hexagons, about this big.” She holds her hands six inches apart. “Big enough to hold one honey jar each.”
“That’s all? You were so nervous, I thought you were going to ask me to build you a castle.”
She’s still playing with her ponytail. “Do we have enough wood to make ten more hexagons?”
