Page 4 of Drift

Shit.

She reallywasin the mood to play….

Chapter 2

AVA’S FIRED THORN

“Tucker, c’mon. Stop bullying the weeds. Go get a shower.”

Almost blind to the dirt on his gardening gloves as he knelt at the far edge of the lawn, Tucker waved Amanda off as she sat working in the conservatory. Shifting his cap to keep the unusual hot evening sun out of his eyes, he eased to his feet. The November chill over the past few weeks had killed off most of the weeds, but the one he fought thrived in the cold and had its uses, some of which he liked to keep around.

“You know kids could be less stress on your knees? They start off closer to the ground, able to weed for you, then they grow up and leave eventually.”

Tucker caught the smile that Amanda hid behind her mobile phone. “With weeds, I can pull them up and add them to the compost heap if they mess up lab work here,” he said back to her. “Bit weird seeing kids’ legs sticking out the compost heap iftheyannoy me, though, love.”

He got a veryyou bad ladlook off her before she took a workbook off the pile of schoolbooks on the long coffee table next to her. “It’s a garden here, not a lab, sweety.”

He was still too lost on the pile of books. School term times existed for kids, never the teachers. He’d never really seen thatas a kid, just picked a fight with adults and kids alike in school, mostly because the teachers turned a blind eye to how the kids tried to kick his feet from underneath him for being a decent-sized rugby player who only had a love for… flowers. Weird how he’d fallen head over heels for one of their own when he had finally grown up and lost some of the testosterone.

“Garden… lab… Tomaytoe… tomartoe,” he called back to her as he picked up the flowerheads and headed over to the compost bin to take care of the bodies. Through the run of tree and bush of Brynmill Park bordering their home, the scent of the nearby lake mixed with the run of evergreen and winter plants that framed his lawn, and he closed the lid on the compost bin and gave a sigh, then removed his gloves before heading over for the conservatory. They’d been lucky buying this detached three-bedroomed house. It was midpoint between Amanda’s school and Tucker’s daily jaunt to real lab work. But in general, the Uplands of Swansea was stunning, even in the backdrop of Wales.

“One down, one… huge pile of books to go.” Amanda gave a heavy sigh and put her phone down. She didn’t look happy, so he dried his hands, then went over and kissed at her head.

“Why don’t you leave that until tomorrow? You look knackered.”

She looked up and kissed at his jaw before patting his neck. “Friday tomorrow. I have that Governor’s meeting at six, and if we want to head over to the farmer’s market you want to rummage through Saturday, then these—” She tapped a book in her lap. “—they need to get done now.”

He winced and offered a whispered sorry. “Work not rummage,” he said with a grin. “I swear my plant fetish is for… work.”

“Oh sure, it is, love. I sit still for long enough out here, I swear I’d end up with lilies poking out my trouser legs.” She twitched an eye several times, and he laughed softly.

“Imagine what would happen if a kid of ours came into the mix. Who knows what’d be planted in there: lipstick, pens… toilet roll.”

“Hey.” She laughed. “I kind of want to see you going teacher as little hands mimic yours in the botany field.”

“Curator at the Welsh National Herbarium,” he said gently. “One who’s almost touching forty-five and a boring fart.”

“That’s not what Monique tells me about your youth.”

Tucker winced. “Lies, all lies.” He smiled. “And since when did my sister turn informer on me?” He tried to keep to humour, not make talk on kids look important, because they’d been trying and failing for over a year now to have a kid or two, but the brush of thumb to her lips betrayed just how much he’d love to have a little bag of his own ogre bones next to him, digging in the dirt… he didn’t even care if the squeals of delight were male, female… however they turned out to be. Maybe one day…?

“I’ll get cleaned up, then start dinner,” he said gently before he straightened. “What do you fancy?”

She groaned, rubbing at her stomach as a growl kicked in. “Potatoes… lots of them… mashed. A few vegetables… parsley sauce.”

“Anything else?” He knew what the answer would be. Two years older than him, with such a complex mind towards ICT and computers, long soft brown hair that shifted so lightly in the breeze and a smile that could see him hand over the most rarest plant in order to have her lie next to him, she was… as simpleas it could be when it came to food. No fancy restaurant needed, just mash… vegetables… parsley sauce. More so over the past few weeks.

“No thanks.” She leaned over and picked up the first book. “Just another tea, please.”

“Done.” He started to head over.

“Oh, shit, Tuck?”

He glanced back as he reached the kitchen. “Yep?”

“I need my markers.” She tried to look under the coffee table but came away too tired. “When I met you out by your car tonight, I left my bag in there. Again.”

“No worries. I’ll go grab it. Anything else whilst I’m there?”

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