Short Story Sunday: Garlands and Glühwein (Part 2)

"Did you sneak out to a party last night?" Amelia hid her smile behind her mug of coffee.

"Sorry, what?" Ella was still groggy from sleep and there was a crease embedded across her cheek. "Coffee! Thank goodness." She poured a giant mugful and joined her grandmother at the table. "Oh my... Is that what my hair looks like?"


Amelia turned to the face the oven door where she too caught Ella's reflection. She chuckled. "I'm afraid so. I had a friend at school called Charlotte who said it was because her hair had parties she didn't know about at night."

Ella sighed and propped her elbows on the table so as to create a perch for her head. 

"Did you manage to meet the deadline?"

"Only just. I forgot how erratic the internet connection can be out here. No disrespect, Gran, but if I am going to stay I will be buying you a better service for Christmas."

She placed her cup on the table and looked at her granddaughter. "So, you're staying?"

"Sorry, Gran. That came out a bit wrong."

"I would be delighted if you did, and you're welcome to stay as long as you like."

"I sense a 'but'." Ella grinned. "I know it's important to you that we both have our independence, and I understand that completely. So, I was rather hoping we could come to a compromise on something."

"I'm listening." 

*

Jonas awoke to discover twenty-seven messages on his phone. A handful were from Jerry, telling him that more trees had arrived and Jonas understood it to mean that he was required to unload and arrange them. Jerry's large hands meant he often sent the messages before he'd finished typing them, so it took several tries to convey what he wanted to say. Jonas made a mental note to show him how to send voice messages.

Unfortunately, Frankie Busybody was responsible for the bulk of the texts; she seemed to think out loud in her correspondence, and the ones he glanced at appeared to reflect her personal to-do list rather than requiring any action from him. He managed to clear the notifications and was just about to place the phone on his nightstand when it pinged again. It was from an unknown number. He squinted at the blinking red icon and decided to wait until he'd had his first cuppa before seeing what fresh nuisance awaited him. 

The air was crisp and quiet outside his bedroom window, and he liked to sleep with the curtains open at this time of the year so as to fully enjoy the silence. Had it not been for the protests of his stomach, he would happily have lain in bed, watching the trees, until noon. As he got to the kitchen, he heard the thud of the post landing in the box at the front door. Right on schedule. As he waited for the bread to toast, he braved a look at his phone.

Hi Jonas. It's Ella. I got your number from Mrs B. I hope that's OK. She said you know a good contractor for renovations? My grandmother has a project that needs an expert. Anyway, we'd be grateful if you could point us in the right direction. Chat soon? Thanks, Ella

Jonas wondered how every woman he knew managed to turn what was supposed to be a short message into a mini-essay. He smiled as he prepared his breakfast and pondered whether he'd have time to start decorating his own tree before Christmas.

*After a morning full of chatter and ideas, Amelia gave Ella a shopping list and dispatched her to the grocery store. It was too difficult to resist the chance to text Jonas from Ella's phone, especially since she'd left it on the table and her pincode was easy enough to guess; as a child, Ella always used the year of her birth for combination locks. Once she hit send, and then deleted the message she'd typed, it occurred to her that Jonas might reply or call back and then she'd have some explaining to do. Amelia decided to risk it: her grandmotherly instinct knew that if Jonas was going to make a move, he'd need a shove rather than a nudge. She hadn't seen Ella quite so taken with someone since she'd called and told her about her university boyfriend, Peter, who, as it later turned out, was far from great. And, although she would never admit it, Amelia had rather hoped Ella would suggest remodelling the garage into an apartment. When the time came, she would suggest that Ella move into the house and that space would be ideal for her. While she'd never worked with him closely, Amelia knew Jonas was the one she wanted for the job. She checked the screen of Ella's phone. No reply yet. She put the kettle on, telling herself that she was a patient woman.

*

When Ella parked outside the supermarket, she decided to check if it was the right place on her phone's maps application. As she reached for her bag, she remembered that her handset was lying on the kitchen table, where she'd left it. It had been surprising that her Gran was so open to an idea she'd been working on for months. It was one of the few projects she'd actually enjoyed tinkering with. Most of her designs these days were for how to turn the bedrooms of spoilt brats into a Princess room or a My Little Pony affair. She shuddered. She wanted to sink her teeth into projects that required a little more than knowing where and how to source a replica of Marie Antoinette's bed in pink.

The building in front of her seemed too small to be a supermarket, but she reminded herself that the Big City Life she'd become accustomed to didn't exist here. Fortunately, Gran's list seemed fairly straightforward, so she forgave her grandmother for the pointed way in which she'd tried to get rid of her for a few hours. Ella decided she might as well acquaint herself with the shopping district again. It seemed mostly the same: the florist, laundry and the three bakeries that made the entire street smell like a homey kitchen were familiar to her. There were a handful of chain stores, a new boutique and a pharmacy adjoined the doctor's surgery. The street was lined with Chestnut trees and she watched a pair of excited children scrabbling in the dirt until they found the spiked treasures. Across the street was a large hardware store. She decided to check it out when she heard a familiar voice.

"Ah, Ella. Good to see you again. I am glad to say that I stand corrected about your grandmother's bunting. It looks very festive after all. Tell me, do you know whether she intends on returning to the stall this evening? I noticed some odds and ends I would like to discuss with her."

"Good to see you too, Francine. Yes, we'll be there tonight. And have you addressed the issue with the Fresnayes yet? I believe Mr Fresnaye threatened to set fire to the garlands unless Mrs Fresnaye made up her mind about the arrangement."

"Gracious no! That would be disastrous. I wasn't aware..." Francine bit her tongue. "I'm much obliged to you, my dear. And although I would love to stay and chat, my to-do list grows longer by the second..."

Ella tried to suppress her grin as she watched the elder lady hurry along the pavement in a huff of self-importance. She didn't even stop when a huge chestnut bounced off her head, although it did elicit a great deal of laughter from the children in her wake. After waiting for a car to pass, Ella hurried across the street to Barrymore's Hardware. A few seconds after stepping inside, she realised that while the town could benefit from the city-sized supermarkets, the city could definitely take its cue from this place. It was enormous and had every imaginable tool, bit and bob she might ever need - in at least three different colours. It was a designer's heaven. She headed straight for the paint and busied herself with studying the latest shades. She didn't like the coral blush tones that were allegedly the pantones of the year (it only made her think of prawn cocktail) and hovered around the blues and greys instead.

Armed with a fistful of samples, she headed to the frames section and passed the "employee of the month" signage. Ella did a double take. It couldn't be. She moved closer and squinted at the pictures. It was an old photograph, but it was definitely him. Jonas was the owner? She'd had him down as a handyman, not a boss.

"Huh. Well, how about that." She continued browsing for frames, but her mind kept returning to the image of Jonas in his manager's uniform.

*

On a whim, Jonas decided to take a detour before meeting Jerry at the lot. The car was gone, but the light in the kitchen told him that she was home.

Amelia opened the door and struggled to mask her surprise. "Jonas! Please, come in. It's freezing out there."

Jonas nodded, wiped his boots on the mat and stepped inside. He held up his phone. "I got your message, Amelia."

"What message?" Amelia busied herself with hanging up his jacket and gestured for him to follow her to the kitchen.

"Nobody under forty writes text messages like that. I know it was you." He sat at the kitchen table and waited for her to face him.

"All right, you got me. Guilty as charged." Amelia turned and folded her arms. "That was what gave me away?"

Jonas laughed. "I was bluffing, to be honest. But I met Ella last night, and this does not sound like her."

"How very observant of you," said Amelia. "And what else did you notice about my granddaughter?"

"She talks too much. Like you."

They laughed, and Amelia decanted filter coffee into mugs.

"So, will you help me?"

"Depends. What kind of remodelling are we talking about?"

"Ella wants to move into the garage, so we thought of converting it into an apartment... Here, take a look at these."

The annoyance she'd felt at having to squeeze her car next to, what was in her opinion, an oversized truck and then haul the groceries up to the house herself dissipated the second she saw her grandmother and Jonas poring over her designs at the kitchen table. She felt mild panic as she used her elbow to nudge the back door open. As soon as they heard the commotion, both Amelia and Jonas jumped to help. He was definitely taller than she remembered, and smelt less like plant sap and more like he was fresh from the shower.

"I didn't meant to interrupt," she said.

"On the contrary, your timing couldn't be better," said Amelia. "I asked Jonas if he'd consider being our contractor."

Ella couldn't help but notice the look that passed between her Gran and Jonas as she spoke. "I see. And, Jonas, do you think you're up to the job? I mean, I am sure you're busy enough with your work at the hardware store and the Christmas market and..."

"Oh, but we wouldn't start right away. Not before the end of January."

"Your grandmother's right. We'd need to get the plans approved and see the end of the silly season before we can start. January to April tend to be quieter months and I have enough staff running things for me at the store, as I am sure you saw."

"Yes, I... Sorry. I just didn't expect to be having this conversation now. You two carry on planning, and I'll pack the groceries away."

"I'd love to," said Jonas, "but I've kept Jerry waiting long enough." He smiled at Amelia. "Thanks for the coffee. And we'll talk again soon." He moved in the direction of the front door and paused. "I hope you'll come round to the lot tonight. We could use your eye with the layout." He nodded at Ella, then Amelia, and disappeared.

Ella stared after him. "What the heck was that about?"

"I'm sure I have no idea," said Amelia, and turned to hide her smile.

*

The marketplace was buzzing; not only was Jonas knee-deep in foliage, the Fresnayes had opted to reconstruct their stall entirely and Frankie Busybody was minutes away from having an apoplexy because the market was not up to her standards. Although, admittedly, only a few could actually work out what her standards were; they seemed to change by the minute. Ella and Amelia had things under control at their stall. Ella was helping her grandmother to put the finishing touches on her arrangement of jams, jellies, marmalades and laser-cut crafts. Apart from Frankie Busybody, the mood was generally jolly and someone had connected the PA system to some golden oldie Christmas carols.

"There. That looks festive." Amelia gathered up her cloths and feather duster. "Shouldn't you be at the lot?"

"I don't know," said Ella. "I wouldn't want to intrude."

"He invited you. That's hardly intruding."

Ella pouted. "Do I have to?"

"You may be a strange woman like me, Ella dear, but we're never rude. Move it."

By the time Ella arrived at the lot, she could see why her grandmother had insisted she come. What had begun as a rather ordered semi-circle of Christmas trees now looked like a wildly overgrown forest.

"Uh, hello?"

"Over here."

She could barely make out the muffled voice. "I can't see you... MARCO!"

"Polo."

Ella moved in the direction of the voice. It was difficult to hear it over a rendition of Let It Snow! She was also convinced she heard him chuckling. "MARCO?"

"Polo."

Damn! She changed direction again. "Bloody hell. MARCOOOOOOO!"

A hand grabbed hers and tugged her between the trees. "Polo," he whispered.


To be continued...
If you want to read the first part of this story, click here.