Page 32 of The Allotment on Willow Tree Lane

Ceri rolled her eyes and shook her head. As puns went, that was so tenuous.

Rowena giggled. ‘I think she might be trying tohedgeher bets – if gardening doesn’t work out, she’s thinking about being a comedian.’

‘Stop putting ideas in my shed,’ Ceri quipped, and there were groans all round. ‘Seriously, I was so scared that first day, I nearly packed it in. Mark, the Head of Faculty, has been great, though. Very supportive.’

Huw raised his eyebrows. ‘How supportive?’

‘Get lost, Huw; he’s my line manager. Just because you’re all loved up…’

‘I thought I’d sow a few seeds, that’s all.’

‘And I thought you didn’t want any more gardening puns?’

Huw persisted, ‘So? Or should I saysow– s. o. w.?’

‘Huw, stop it!’ Ceri couldn’t help laughing, though. Her brother had drunk one glass of wine too many. Or was he simply drunk on happiness? She had never seen him so playful and lighthearted, and once again she felt a twinge of envy.

‘Anyway,’ she said, ‘he’s probably married or in a relationship.’

‘See! You do fancy him!’ Huw cried.

‘I do not.’ There was only one man she fancied, and that was Damon.

‘Leave her alone, Huw,’ Rowena chided. ‘She’ll find someone in her own time. She doesn’t need any help from you!’

‘Oh, but she does,’ Huw protested. ‘She’s had so many boyfriends I’ve lost count. My sister is the queen of first dates.’

‘A first date doesn’t make a guy a boyfriend,’ Ceri retorted, haughtily. ‘It means I’ve checked him out and decided not to take things any further.’

‘They can’t all have had something wrong with them,’ Rowena said.

‘Believe me, they can,’ Ceri replied. She wondered what was wrong with Damon – apart from the downright rudeness when she had knocked on his door, and she had already forgiven him for that.

Huw chuckled, ‘My sister always finds a little something that irritates her, or that she simply can’t put up with, like soup-slurping, or nicking a chip off her plate. She hates that.’

Ceri scowled at him. ‘It’s not always the little things,’ she argued. ‘What about the chap who was married, but conveniently forgot to mention it?’

‘OK, I’ll give you that one, but what was wrong with the guy who told a fib about his shoe size?’

Rowena snorted with laughter. ‘What on earth…?’

Ceri took up the baton, anxious to explain why she had booted that particular guy into touch. ‘He seemed to be under the impression that big feet, meant a big… you know.’

‘And did it?’ Rowena spluttered.

‘I didn’t give him the chance to show me. That he’d lied about being a size eleven, when he was clearly only an eight or nine, was enough to put me off. If he can lie about that, what else would he lie about?’ Ceri felt quite indignant, the memory still fresh. She couldn’t tolerate lying. There was simply no need for it.

‘Miss Picky, that’s you!’ Huw chortled. ‘Perhaps he was insecure about the size of his manhood.’

‘Miss-I-want-to-get-it-right,’ she shot back. ‘Can we change the subject? What with my new job and the allotment, I’ve got plenty to keep me occupied. I don’t need to complicate it any further with a fella.’ But her treacherous mind brought an image of Damon to the forefront, along with the suspicion that she was kidding herself. If Damon was on offer, she suspected she would happily allow that particular complication into her life.

‘What allotment?’ Rowena’s eyes lit up, and Ceri breathed a sigh of relief at the change of subject.

‘Keep it under your hat for now, but Terry is letting me restore the allotment on Willow Tree Lane,’ she said.

Huw asked, ‘Isn’t that the field where we held the reception?’

‘The very same. It used to be an allotment years ago,’ Ceri explained.

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