Page 30 of The Allotment on Willow Tree Lane

Humming the tune to himself, and occasionally breaking out into a smattering of lyrics, Damon decided to heed Ceri’s advice and get to work on the rhododendron. After all, she was the expert.

A couple of hours later, he stepped back to admire his handiwork, and saw that the poor rhododendron looked as though it had been attacked by a madman with a machete. Actually, he had used a pair of still-sharp pruning shears and a saw, and now the bush (it had been more like a small tree) was looking decidedly sorry for itself, as well as being a third its original size.

Piles of sawn branches lay strewn around him, and as he clambered and picked his way over them to put his tools away, he realised he had made the problem of accessing the tool and potting sheds worse, not better. Hopefully that was only temporary until he cleared the path of the discarded vegetation.

This was where a shredder would come in handy, he mused, because he had no intention of breaking this lot up into small enough sections by hand to put on the compost heap. He would take a look online later and order one. It would come in handy for the rest of the garden, too.

Hoping the bush would recover – he didn’tthinkhe had killed it – Damon unscrewed the cap on a bottle of water and drank thirstily. When he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and saw the dirt streaked across his knuckles, he sniggered – a rock-and-roll lifestyle this most definitely wasn’t. If Frank could see him now, he would be horrified.

Luckily for Frank, the man had no idea that Damon had blisters on his hands and a mind full of shredders.

He blew out his cheeks as it occurred to him that if he did buy a shredder, he wouldn’t have anywhere to dispose of the resultant chips of bark and wood. He had taken a look at the compost that Ceri had delved her fingers into and realised it would be criminal to dump fresh stuff on top. The compost in the three bins was ready to be used, but it was unlikely that he would pot anything and it needed using now, to free up the bins. Maybe he could move it and store it somewhere? Or maybe a certain horticulturist would like it…?

It wouldn’t hurt to ask, and Ceri might be grateful. Or she might think him even stranger than she did already. Then again, wasn’t that what most gardeners did – trade seeds, borrow tools, swap tips? He remembered seeing his gran in the field on the other side of the garden, when it used to be an allotment, leaning on her shovel, discussing the pros and cons of different varieties of brassicas. She had always been quick to offer advice or lend a hand. Just like Ceri.

Ceri reminded him of his gran in some respects – feisty, forthright, passionate about gardening – and he had a feeling the pair of them would have got on like a house on fire. Yeah, Gran would definitely have liked Ceri.

He liked her too…

Ceri practically danced along the pavement as she headed to Huw and Rowena’s house. They were back from their honeymoon and had invited her for dinner this evening. She felt honoured to be the newlywed’s first guest, and she also couldn’t wait to see her brother. She had missed him, and wanted to hear all about their honeymoon. Ceri had her own news to share, too, and after her first week at work she was eager to kick back and relax with good food, good wine (she had bought a couple of bottles of decent plonk to take with her) and good company.

She was walking past the vicarage when she heard her name being called.

‘I’m glad I caught you,’ the vicar said. ‘I wanted to let you know that I’ve put out a few feelers about the allotment, and I’m delighted to say that the response has been very positive. Everyone I’ve spoken to thinks it’s a great idea, and many people have fond memories of working there. I didn’t mention where it would be or who will be running it, but now I know the village is in favour, I can put the word out. I’m sure loads of people will be keen to put their names down for a plot.’

‘Thanks, Terry, that’s wonderful news. Do you mind delaying the announcement for a couple of weeks? I’ve been working on the layout – which will be very much the way it was originally – but I thought it might be a good exercise for my students to see the field in the raw, so to speak, and give them an assignment to design an allotment from scratch. It will be a good learning experience for them.’

‘That’s a terrific idea!’ Terry exclaimed. ‘I don’t suppose a couple of weeks will make any difference. I have a favour to ask, too. Could I have one final mow?’

Ceri laughed. ‘Betsan told me all about your sit-on mower. I’d be cross if you didn’t. I was counting on you to cut the grass down to size, as it will make it easier to stake out the plots. As soon as that’s done, the tenants can begin work on them. I can’t wait to see it bursting with all that lovely veg.’

‘Did you manage to find out who the orchard belongs to? I reckon it’s part of Willow Tree House.’

‘You’re right,’ she confirmed. ‘I spoke to the owner myself.’

‘So thereissomeone living there! Who is it, do you know? Did you get a name? Actually, I think I can guess. I bet any money that it’s a relative of Hyacinth Rogers. Someone has been leaving flowers on her grave. I wonder if it’s the son or the grandson?’ The vicar gazed at her hopefully.

‘It’s her grandson.’

‘Well, well, Damon has returned, eh? He used to spend all his school holidays with Hyacinth when he was a boy, but I suppose he grew too old to want to visit his grandma every five minutes. It will be nice for the old house to be lived in again. I don’t like seeing it empty.’

After she said goodbye to the vicar, Ceri’s thoughts continued to linger on the owner of Willow Tree House, and she had to give herself a mental shake to dispel his image from her mind when she reached her brother’s house.

‘Look at you!’ she exclaimed, as Huw opened the door. She didn’t think she had ever seen her brother looking so happy and relaxed. Married life suited him. He held his arms wide to give her a hug, and she clung to him.

‘I missed you,’ she said, inhaling his familiar scent. They might fight like cat and dog on occasion, but he was her brother and she loved him.

‘I didn’t miss you,’ he retorted, with a laugh.

‘I’d be worried if you had. I take it you had a good time?’

‘The best!’

Rowena appeared in the hall, a huge smile on her face. She, too, was looking happy, and the light tan she had acquired from the Caribbean sun added to her glow. Love radiated from Huw when he smiled at his new wife, and Rowena basked in it. And, for her part, Rowena looked besotted with her man.

A pang of envy took Ceri by surprise when she realised she wanted what they had.

‘Here, open one of these,’ Ceri instructed, thrusting the bottles into Huw’s hands.

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