‘Are you sure you should carry all those into the clubhouse?’ Cassie pointed at the boxes piled on top of one another in the boot of the Range Rover.
‘We had that very same discussion in Keswick when I loaded them into the car, and I told you I was all right then.’ What kind of man would he be if he couldn’t lift a few boxes? he grumbled inwardly. He did his best to ignore the twinges in his back, and when he bent down to put the boxes on the floor in the clubhouse, he turned away so that Cassie wouldn’t see him catch his breath.
When he’d lined all the boxes up against the wall, Cassie stood in the middle of the room and twirled on herself. ‘In three days, this place will be unrecognisable,’ she declared, flashing a smile in his direction.
He smiled back, not wanting to appear pessimistic but it was difficult to imagine how the uninspiring reception room, with its cream walls and tartan carpet, the bar at one end and wooden dance floor at the other, could be made to look even remotely like a rainforest fit for Tarzan and Jane and their pet monkey… or was it a pet elephant – or both? He couldn’t quite remember.
‘What do you mean, unrecognisable?’ the campsite manager asked as he walked in.
Cassie gave the man a friendly smile. ‘Hi, Patrick! I’m going to transform the clubhouse into a fake jungle.’
The man recoiled. ‘A jungle? Nobody mentioned a jungle before. I thought this was going to be a normal, straightforward wedding reception.’
‘Don’t worry. The décor will be fun but tasteful,’ Cassie said and she proceeded to explain her vision, getting more and more animated as she described the fake foliage on the walls, the multicoloured paper flowers and animal cardboard placemats she would design and cut out.
‘I will hide animal masks among the foliage too so that they look as if they’re peeping out of the leaves, and there will be yellow fairy lights all around the room. Do you think the bar staff would agree to wear grass skirts and flower necklaces?’ She stopped to catch her breath and looked at the manager, who had grown very still and, Stefan thought, rather pale.
‘So, you see,’ Cassie finished, ‘I have everything planned, and you have nothing to worry about.’
Patrick looked at her and scratched his head. ‘That’s a massive amount of work and you only have three days. Who is going to help you?’
Cassie looked surprised. ‘No one… I’m doing everything myself.’
‘There’s no way you can possibly do all that alone. The place will end up looking a mess. The clubhouse has been hired out for a business meeting on Monday morning,’ Patrick said. ‘I can’t see how you can tidy everything up on your own. I’m sorry, Cassie, but I have to put my foot down and veto the whole jungle idea.’
‘I can do the whole room by myself in three days,’ Cassie insisted, ‘and I can tidy everything up for the meeting on Monday. I’m a cleaner. I’m used to clearing up mess!’
Patrick shook his head. ‘No, love, it won’t work. You can put fairy lights up and make paper flower necklaces, of course, but that’s all.’
‘I’ve bought everything now, and Kerry is counting on me for her jungle. She’ll be dreadfully disappointed.’
Cassie’s voice wobbled, and her smile disappeared, but Patrick remained unmoved. ‘You should have asked me before. I’m sorry.’
‘It’s not your fault,’ Cassie said, shaking her head.
It was seeing the tears glisten in her eyes that did it. Stefan forgot all about his resolutions of living a quiet life and keeping as far as possible from the young woman.
‘What if I helped Cassie set everything up and tidy the room up for Monday?’
Patrick frowned, looking unconvinced. ‘You would help?’
Stefan nodded. ‘I am in the army, so I’m used to organising things so that they run like clockwork.’ He had no idea why it was suddenly so important to see the young woman smile again.
‘And you’re sure you can tidy up for Monday morning?’ Patrick insisted.
‘Positive.’
Patrick sighed and smiled at Cassie. ‘In that case… I suppose you can go ahead.’
‘Thank you, Patrick, you won’t regret it!’ Cassie clapped, ran up to him and gave him a resounding kiss on the cheek.
‘Steady on, girl,’ Patrick said but his grin belied the stern tone of his voice. ‘I have one condition… No monkey business!’
He laughed at his own joke, and added, ‘I’ll leave you two to it, and I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning.’
As soon as he had left Cassie looked at Stefan. ‘Thank you.’
The happy smile she gave him was the best reward he could have hoped for. ‘Don’t mention it,’ he grunted, but inside he felt absurdly pleased with himself.
He shoved his hands into his coat pockets, and cleared his throat. ‘I hope you know what you’re doing, because the man was right. This is going to be a challenge, not to mention the fact that I may know about flying and fixing helicopters but I’m pretty useless at making paper flowers – not that I ever tried, mind you.’
Cassie laughed. ‘Don’t worry. I have everything planned. As for making paper flowers, there’s nothing to it.’
He had his doubts, but he said nothing.
The following morning, Stefan met Cassie at the campsite at eight thirty. She issued him with a list of instructions before leaving for her cleaning jobs around the village, but popped back at regular intervals during the day to survey his progress, give him encouragement, and bring flasks of coffee, sandwiches and cakes from the village bakery.
After the umpteenth cream bun, he remarked that he would soon be too heavy to climb on a ladder, but she only laughed. ‘The least I can do in return for all your hard work is feed you well. I’m sure Tarzan didn’t complain if his Jane fed him too much when he was building their tree hut… he knew that he needed to keep his strength up, like you!’
Surprisingly, as he emptied bags and boxes, affixed netting and fake foliage to the walls, and even got to grips with the templates for the giant paper flowers, he found that he was enjoying himself. Perhaps not really enjoying himself, but at least he felt useful – more useful than he had in days, when he was just driving around aimlessly or brooding alone at Belthorn.
He tried not to think about what the guys at the base would say if they could see him cut and stick crepe paper to make paper flowers or exotic fruit under the direction of a woman with tousled blonde hair tied with a bright red bandana scarf and dressed in dungarees far too big for her, but whose smile lit up the room and the grey winter day.
‘We have made great progress today,’ she said, surveying the room at the end of the first day. ‘You are the best assistant I’ve ever had – not that I have had any. Thank you!’ She stepped towards him until she was within touching distance, and for a second he thought she was going to kiss him, like she had kissed Patrick the day before. His body tensed, his mouth dried up, his breath hitched in his throat. Time stood still…
She didn’t kiss him. Instead, she lifted a hand to the side of his face and brushed his cheek with her fingers. A piece of pink paper spiralled to the ground. She took a step back and smiled. ‘That’s better. We can’t have you walking around with pink paper stuck to your beard, can we? That would spoil your manly demeanour.’