Page 31 of Putting Down Roots

Standing back, we observe them. I’m used to looking at garden plans, but Luca and Anna are artists, so they can see the forms and understand the plans.

“So, do we restore it back to these plans?” I ask. “Or do you want to put your own stamp on it?”

“Do we have time to make any changes?” Luca asks. “If we want to open this year?”

“Not major changes, no. But you could start planning some for future years, which would affect how much restoration we do.”

We look over the plans. The walled garden is shown, the sunken garden, the meandering paths, and the folly.

“Is there anything you suggest?” Luca casually asks. I think for a minute.

“There is actually something we could do this year. On the sweep up to the folly, we could keep the wildflower meadow and make the path meander through it. It helps that everything has been left for a few years, as it’s given the plants a chance to self-seed and the land to become more natural. There are a range of insects and butterflies already buzzing around the flowers, and dragonflies down by the water.”

I wait for them to respond.

“So we do nothing?” Luca states.

“Conservation is an important part of horticulture. It needs a bit of tidying up, but it is essentially ready to go. I think it’ll be popular. Traditional meadows are making a comeback, and they’re very pretty.”

“Okay.” Luca shrugs.

“Okay,” Anna echoes. I’m pleased, as I really don’t want to mow the beautiful flowers that have seeded there. Formal gardens are all very well, but wildflowers are also important.

We go over the plans area by area. I say what needs doing for each, and Anna takes notes.

“What about visitor parking?” Anna asks. “Where did your aunt put them when it was open before?”

“There was an area just off the drive.”

“That’s completely overgrown now. It’s full of brambles that’ll take some clearing. We might need help for that,” I say, and Anna makes a note. I realise it’s getting late and I ought to go.

Luca sees me to the door.

It feels like we’re teenagers, gawkily trying to say something and yet saying nothing at all—unsure of what the next stage should be. I’ve never been in this situation before. In the end, it’s Luca who makes the decision and kisses me.

“Goodnight,” he whispers.

It isn’t enough—it was never going to be enough—and now I have an uncomfortable drive back to the pub.

CHAPTER 26

Jackson

I’min the rose garden when Luca brings me a mid-morning coffee. I haven’t seen him yet this morning and my breath hitches when I spy him coming along the path. I put down the secateurs, remove my gloves, and take the mug. I can’t resist leaning down for a kiss.

“Good morning,” I whisper when we part, my lips just hovering over his.

“Good morning,” he breathes back, breaking out into a smile.

“I think I’ve worked out which of these is the Larchdown rose.” I indicate a shrub which is starting to put out a few buds. I’d found it on the plans last night, so had an idea where to look, but it took a bit of clearing to uncover it.

“That’s exciting. Are you sure?”

“We’ll know when it comes into flower, but I think so.”

Luca starts to move some of the rose cuttings I’ve been trimming so we can sit on a low wall. A thorn sticks into his thumb and snags.

“Ouch!”

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