Page 21 of Rough Around the Hedges

I was the one everyone feared, and that was fine by me. My reputation for being the resident weirdo preceded me anyway, and I was of the opinion that a little fear was healthy.

If the British Empire could be founded on fear, so could my dictatorship over the vegetable beds of the village of Hanbury.

“Do you want the bad news or the good news first?” I asked, surveying the expressions of my fellow members.

“That sounds like a trick question,” Leah said, fiddling with her wristwatch. She was the only other member of the committee who was under forty, and together, we were paving the way to bring some modern touches to the site.

That’s what we told ourselves, anyway.

“Hang on.” Richard dug into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. “Let’s flip a coin.”

“Heads for good, tails for bad. Flip it, Rich, flip it,” Deb said, shooting him a double thumbs up across the table.

Richard flipped the coin, and it flew right over his shoulder, skittering across the floor with a few clinks before settling some twelve feet away from us. “Oh, dear,” he said flatly. “Perhaps I was a bit too enthusiastic.”

“Just a little bit,” I said as Leah got up to fetch the coin. “What’s the damage?”

“Tails.” She carefully plucked it from the floor and showed the upwards face to us. “Bad news first.”

“Blast it,” George grumbled.

“Okay, well.” I flattened both my hands against the envelope. “The bad news is that even though the contract has just under four years left on it, there is a break clause. That’s what the new duke is using, and it’s perfectly fine in the eyes of the law.”

Lisa pressed her hands to her cheeks. “How is that possible?”

“He has to make a reasonable effort to find a new home for the allotments, whether it be his land or elsewhere,” I answered. “That’s part of the break.”

“What constitutes a reasonable effort?” Colin asked, narrowing his dark eyes. “We probably all have a different definition of ‘reasonable’ if asked.”

“That’s the tough part. Of course, ‘reasonable’ isn’t defined. In the event a new location can’t be found, he must provide adequate financial compensation to the committee. He also must provide individual compensation to the plot holders for any personal losses in the form of planter beds, seeds, crops, fruit trees and bushes, things like that. The minor bit of good news there is that things like the value of trees is measured at their current size, not the size to repurchase and replant. So those little six-quid trees we all filled our plots with five years ago are worth considerably more now.”

“Fat lot of good compensation will do us without a site to spend it on.” Craig folded his arms across his chest. “There’s no need for a committee if there are no allotments. Without a definition of ‘reasonable,’ how do both parties agree that the duke’s estate has made a true effort?”

“Contracts like these rely on the power of the other party,” Paula said, adjusting her glasses. “It was never an issue with the late duke because we all knew Rupert would never shut down the allotments, much less in the growing season, but it’s a clause designed to be in their favour. If we disagree, we’d have to take the young duke to court, and he likely knows we don’t have the funds for something so ridiculous.”

“That’s exactly what the lawyer said.” I sighed, reaching up to tie my hair in a loose knot on top of my head. “In other words, unless the man changes his mind, there’s nothing we can do about it. We can’t legally stop him from shutting down the site.”

Everyone’s expressions dropped as the reality of my words sunk in, and the mood in the room dulled significantly.

That was saying something.

It was hardly a disco in here to begin with.

I mean, it was a room used to primarily teach children about the bible. It was basically a mini church, and I wasn’t sure discos happened in churches. God didn’t strike me as much of a party animal, although Jesus was pretty wild with that whole water into wine trick.

That was one that would come in handy right about now.

“What’s the good news, then?” Colin asked after a moment of sombre silence.

“Good news might be a stretch,” I said. “But Mr Lee discovered that they were using the eviction timeframe of the previous contract, not the new one.”

Deb jerked her head around. “What does that mean?”

“It means we have three months until the closure comes into effect, not two. It seems the late duke considered the growth of the allotments and how many sheds and greenhouses we now have compared to in the past. It’d take us much longer to move the semi-permanent structures than it would have even ten years ago, so he adjusted the notice period to reflect that.” I tapped my fingers against the envelope. “It’s not much, but it’s an extra month or so we have to try to fight this.”

Lisa eyed me excitedly. “So, we are fighting it?”

“Of course, we are. The allotments are the heart of our community. I’m not going to let that rotten ratbastard stroll into our village and rip out the soul of our home just to fill his already stuffed pockets.”

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