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I can’t make it cheaper, not if I still want a luxury holiday-let. The LeFevres can get away with a shabby-chic shop, but my holiday homes can’t be shabby anything. So, unless I take on more debt, costs need to be cut. Which means doing as much of the manual work as possible, myself. Even after my builders finish for the day, I continue to work. The sooner the cottages are complete, the sooner they can start making money.
I finish my sandwich while cancelling as many of my online subscriptions as possible, every penny saved, is a penny I can invest in this project. Then I look around Low Catch; with a couple of hours of daylight still, I can make a start. If I clear the garden myself, the men could build the terraces next week. I get the electric saw and go out into the garden to make a start on the landscaping.
Pulling on safety gloves over my hands, the saw comes on with a satisfyingly loud growl. It also zaps through the first briar like a hot knife through butter. Thorny twigs fall at my feet and a minute later, there is a decent gap through what had been a wall of tangled deadwood.
Five minutes later, the pile of cut twigs is growing and blocking my way, so again I have to go back inside for a shovel and some heavy-duty builders’ refuse sacks. My ears are still ringing from the noise, and I'm likely to be deaf by tonight. Fortunately, one of the builders left a pair of foam ear defenders.
When I come out, shovel and sacks in hand, I notice Elodie in her garden talking to a nervous-looking woman. There’s no smile, no greeting, only angry looks and some pointing. Not that I was hoping for anything better, she is Hedge LeFevre’s granddaughter, after all.
Fortunately, my foam earplugs block out their voices. I shovel the twigs into a sack and rake the ground where the bushes had been, there is now a bit of a path clear. The wind is picking up and it might rain soon, so if I want to clear some of the garden, I’d better do it fast. I grab the saw, switch it on and attack the next bush. Within seconds it’s on the ground and I can move forward to the next.
Something hits me from behind. I turn around and find Elodie LeFevre and her friend.
“What do you want?” I shout to be heard over the saw. She’s waving her arms around like an angry but silent character from theIncredibles.
I point towards my saw then wave her away towards her house.
She doesn’t leave, and is still shouting, face all red. Even her friend is all bothered and trying to grab for the electric cable.
I have to swich off the saw and remove my ear defenders. “What?”
“What are you doing?” She shouts.
“What does it look like?”
“You’re cutting down the bushes.”
“Well spotted. Now if you’ll excuse me.” I clamp my headphone back on to make it clear the conversation is over. But she grabs my arm, the one holding the saw and pulls it away. Even without hearing, her lips are easy enough to read. “STOP.”
I give her my least amused glare, not caring if she doesn’t like the noise. “I’m a long way from your shop.” I shout back. “And your customers.”
I switch on the saw again and turn towards the branch, but the other woman dashes forward and throws herself between my saw and the nearest bush. I have to reel back to avoid hurting her.
“What the hell are you doing?” And this time, it’s me shouting.
Both of them shout back. I have to switch off the saw and remove my ear protectors.
“Are you insane?”
“Don’t cut them!” Her friend is red faced and tears stream down her face. Now that I see her close up, it’s clear she has Down syndrome.
“Stop, stop. STOP.” And in case I’m an idiot who doesn’t understand, Elodie holds her hands up in a stop gesture.
WTF?
“Can’t you see you’re upsetting her?”
“Can you please move away?” I ask as politely as possible under the circumstances.
Elodie grabs my elbow and tries to drag me away. The friend turns away from me and lays herself against the bush, arms spread wide as if she’s hugging the bloody thing.
I put the saw down, a safe distance from her, remove my goggles and turn to face Elodie.
“She’s already traumatised. Normally, she doesn’t go anywhere near men.”
“Shouldn’t you keep her inside away from me, then?”
“You need to stop cutting those bushes.”
