The chatter rose around the table. Jodie came to clear lunch things and people around the table began producing their projects, many of which were destined for the fair: Christmas cards and labels; Santas made from felt; plant pots painted with Christmas motifs in red, green and silver; and Christmas ornaments full of tinsel and glitter.

Tess turned to helping Cody make paper chains and Grady took his coloured inks from his bag, aware of Laurel watching. Then Daisy claimed her attention to show her how to weave willow whips into circlets to become the base for her Christmas wreaths, saying, ‘If we get them done now they can harden a bit in the next two weeks, then I’ll add the decorations. If your first circle’s twenty-five centimetres it will be about right when you’ve woven enough whips in to make it sturdy.’

‘OK,’ Laurel said obligingly. She pushed her chair back from the table to make room to wield the whips, which were about a metre long. She glanced at his inks and brushes. ‘What are you up to?’

‘Decorating,’ he answered economically. Then he reached into his bag for the bottle gourd he’d been working on, pronouncing, Blue Peter style, ‘Here’s one I made earlier.’

It was satisfying that Laurel’s hands paused in weaving her first circle. ‘That’s a hell of a transformation from the sort of raw material I saw at Gabe’s.’

A couple of others looked up from their own projects and murmured, ‘Good one, Grady,’ or ‘That’s beautiful.’

Dropping the willow on her lap, Laurel said, ‘May I?’ and picked the gourd up to inspect it.

It was a vase he was particularly pleased with. He’d cut the neck into an asymmetrical shape and made the top third into a kind of filigree, using his hand-held rotary power tool with its dozens of heads for cutting, drilling, filing and sanding. Then he’d carved a border that resembled a ribbon, ends dangling down the vase. ‘I’m going to paint the pierced part cream and the ribbon gold,’ he explained. ‘But I’m going to start by colouring the body with dark red ink, which will enhance the markings.’ He ran a fingertip over the smooth, bulbous shape.

‘Will you lacquer it?’ Carefully, she passed the gourd back.

‘Possibly. The gold paint on the ribbon might need protecting. Depends how it comes out. It’s such a free form that I just go with my gut.’

Her eyes smiled. ‘That’s how I paint. Even if it’s a commission, the artist has control.’ She turned back to helping Daisy make willow circlets.