Page 100 of Rough Around the Hedges

My mother hummed happily as she re-potted some peculiar pink-and-green leaved plant into one of the pots Rose had selected yesterday. She was making the worst of messes, sending potting soil across the kitchen island as if she were trying to turn it into a vegetable bed itself.

“Can you be more careful?”

“I’m going to clean it up,” she replied breezily, patting soil around the plant’s stem. “Don’t worry, I won’t make the staff do it.”

“I was going to tell them not to,” I said dryly. “This is ridiculous. Why can’t you do this outside?”

“Because they’re houseplants.”

“And? They won’t survive outside for the ten minutes it’s going to take you to make your mess?”

“You wouldn’t send a housecat outside for ten minutes while you change their litter tray, would you?” Mum sniffed, pushing the pot to one side.

“No, you’d take the litter tray out. But your plant is not a cat,” I replied. “Just… make sure you clean it up.”

“Yes, yes, Mr Neat Freak.” She eased the second plant out of its small pot and sent another spray of dry dirt everywhere. “Oops.”

I sighed and shook my head, staring into my coffee that had just been sprinkled with her dirt. “Guess that’s the end of that.”

“Sorry, dear. This one seems a bit energetic.”

“I think it’s you who’s energetic, not the plant, Mum.”

“You might be right.” She tittered out a laugh, brushing some of the soil to the side without a care in the world. All I could do was watch as she continued to dirty up the kitchen, completely disregarding everything I’d just said to her.

What on Earth had possessed me to agree to her moving into the main house? Was it too late to shuffle her and her new plant obsession to one of the cottages on the estate?

“Is there a reason you’re suddenly interested in plants?”

Mum paused; her hands buried in the small compost bag. “I’ve always been interested in plants.”

“No. I’ve borne witness to your cactus manslaughter before.”

She opened her mouth to argue, then closed it, drawing her brows together in a frown. “That was one time, and I forgot they didn’t need as much water as others. Everyone makes mistakes, dear.”

“Assuming that was a mistake, and you are in fact a plant lover, why have you suddenly decided to shove it in my face by interrupting—and dirtying—my morning coffee with your soil?” I tilted my mug in her direction to prove my point.

She peered into it, looking somewhat ashamed of herself. Whatever shame she felt didn’t last long, though, because it quickly melted away from her expression as if it’d never been there to begin with.

The woman had a cracking poker face, I’d give her that.

“Just… try not to make such a mess with this new hobby in the future.” I sighed, running my fingers through my hair as I got up and took my mug to rinse it out in the sink.

I no longer had the taste for coffee.

“What’s wrong with you this morning?” she asked, momentarily abandoning her repotting to turn and stare at me. “You’ve had a stick up your arse since you got up.”

“There’s nothing up my arse, thank you very much.” I scratched the back of my head and sighed again. “Just got a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

“Mm. Does one of those things happen to be a red, wavy-haired woman with a proclivity for chaos and a tongue that could slice you in two without a second thought?”

“Don’t forget the jail cell,” I muttered. “Also, no.”

“Then why did you mention Rose’s jail cell if you’re not thinking about her?”

“I—” I clamped my lips together. “I’m going to the study. I have work to do.”

She barked out a laugh and got up, following me out like a puppy.

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