Page 21 of The Allotment on Willow Tree Lane

Terry scratched his chin. ‘Is that what you want to do with it, turn it back into an allotment?’

‘Not exactly. I’d like to own a nursery, but it will be years before I’ll be able to afford to buy my own land, so I was hoping to start my nursery business there – if the rent’s not too high.’

‘I see.’ Terry took a sip of his wine. ‘I’m not sure I can sanction that, not if you intend to use it for business purposes.’

‘Oh, right… OK.’ Disappointment hit Ceri hard. The field would have been perfect, especially since she had located a standpipe. The tap had been hidden deep in the hedge near the main gate, and she had only spotted it because the edge of an old enamel bath had been peeking out of the undergrowth.

‘I tell you what, though,’ Terry continued. ‘I’d be more than happy for it to become an allotment again. I’m sure people will be queuing up to get their hands on a plot. It’s Church land that isn’t being used, and considering it was once used for that purpose, I don’t think there would be any objection to it being used as an allotment again.’ He paused. ‘The Church probably isn’t even aware that it has fallen into disuse, so turning it back into an allotment would merely be restoring it to its original state. There won’t be any rent to pay, either,’ he added. ‘I want this to be a community space for everyone to use, but it’ll have to be run properly,’ he warned. ‘However, I’ll leave that up to you. How does that sound?’

Ceri was still disappointed but at least she would have a plot and it would be directly opposite her cottage, so the location was perfect. ‘Thank you so much.’

‘Don’t thank me yet,’ he chuckled. ‘It’ll take a fair bit of graft.’

‘I’m not afraid of hard work,’ she said, beaming widely as the thought of having a little piece of land to work on sank in.

‘I’ll see what I can do to drum up some help. If it’s for the village, it’s only fair that any villagers who want a plot have a hand in setting it up.’

‘That’s brilliant,’ she said, thinking furiously. ‘But can you keep it just between us for the time being? Because I want to work out what needs to be done and in what order, rather than going at it like a bull in a china shop. I would like to mark out the plots first and go from there, if that’s OK?’

‘Fine by me,’ Terry said. ‘Just one more thing. As the field stands at present, it’s a magnet for bees and butterflies. Can you promise me that you’ll keep some part of it for wildlife?’

‘You and I are on the same page. I was thinking the exact same thing myself. I would hate to lose all those wonderful pollinators, because they’re essential for the health of an allotment and for a good harvest. I’d much prefer to work with nature than against it.’

‘Marvellous! You obviously know what you’re doing, so I can leave everything up to you.’

‘By the way,’ she said, as she finished her wine and prepared to take her leave. ‘Does the Church own the orchard on the other side of the field, or does that belong to the house at the end of Willow Tree Lane?’

‘I’m fairly sure it belongs to Willow Tree House,’ he said. ‘But I’m not a hundred percent certain.’

‘That’s OK, I’ll pop along there tomorrow and ask.’

‘You won’t get any joy – the house has been empty for years. It was owned by the same old lady who ran the allotment, but I’m not sure who owns it now. She did have a son, although she hardly ever saw him. She saw more of the grandson when he was a kid, but I haven’t clapped eyes on either the son or the grandson since her funeral.’

Ceri’s eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t think itisempty,’ she said slowly. ‘I could have sworn I heard music coming from there when I was in the field earlier.’

‘Are you sure?’

She wasn’t – it might have been coming from somewhere else entirely – but she was determined to find out. Because if someone was living there, they would hopefully know who owned that gorgeously wild and unloved orchard.

Chapter 6

Fragments of the song he had begun composing earlier that evening were still playing in Damon’s head when the phone rang.

‘Frank,’ Damon said warily, as he carefully placed the guitar back on its stand.

‘How are you?’ his manager asked.

‘Fine.’ He wasn’t, not quite, but he was getting there. He hoped.

Frank said, ‘I’ve got some brilliant news! “Dark Dimension” is rocketing up the charts and has been since…’ He trailed off and Damon pursed his lips. Hehadnoticed, but he had been trying to ignore it. “Dark Dimension” was the band’s bestselling track, but Damon thought it rather distasteful that the reason it was having a renewed surge in sales was because of Aiden’s death.

‘Anyway, that’s not why I called,’ Frank continued hastily. ‘I’ve just got off the phone with Emmett. He was sounding me out about releasing those unfinished tracks.’

‘But that’s the problem,’ Damon pointed out. ‘They areunfinished.’ Emmett, being a key player in the band’s record company, should know better. How the hell were they going to finish them without their bass guitarist?

‘He believes it won’t take a great deal of work to knock them into shape. The basics are there; they’ll need a bit of digital work, and you and Luke may have to re-record some bits, but I’ve been having a listen and they’re not half bad. There’s enough material for an album.’

Damon wasn’t so sure. It felt wrong to even be thinking about releasing material that Aiden had worked on but wasn’t alive to finish.

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