Page 18 of The Allotment on Willow Tree Lane

That was a bad one, the worst yet.

Drained, exhausted and scared, he clambered shakily to his feet, a feeling of wretchedness washing over him.

How much longer could he carry on like this?

Chapter 5

‘You look like I feel,’ Betsan observed, as Ceri stepped through the door of Foxmore’s zero waste shop.

Ceri grimaced. Her first week in her new job had been tough, but she had survived. All she wanted this evening was to have something nice to eat, a glass of wine, and to put her feet up. And she had been all set to do just that when she remembered she needed some supplies. She had been so busy these past few days, that she hadn’t had time to do any shopping, so as soon as she’d reached Foxmore late on Friday afternoon, she had parked the car outside the cottage and had dashed to the shops before they closed for the day.

She was relieved to see that the zero waste shop was still open, so she could stock up on cereal, yoghurts and milk, but the bakery had already shut, so she would have to pay the convenience store a visit.

‘How was it?’ Betsan asked.

‘Exhausting and terrifying. I’m not sure I can make it to the end of term.’

‘You will. I’ve got every faith in you.’

‘I wish I had faith in myself,’ Ceri replied, as she wandered around the shop, filling her basket. ‘I’m so far out of my comfort zone I might as well be on another planet.’

‘Aw, my lovely, don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re bound to find it difficult at first.’

‘I know, and I hate being so wimpy. It’s not like me.’

Mrs Moxley, an elderly lady with a lavender perm and a face full of wrinkles, was standing near the door leading to the back of the shop. She had a box of bamboo toothbrushes in one hand, hemp exfoliating mitts in the other, and a handbag dangling on her arm.

She said, ‘It’s a big change, jacking in your job and your house to move to a new area. But you’re not the first to do it – look at your Huw. It’s turned out pretty darned good for him.’ The old lady popped the items onto their respective shelves, then announced, ‘I’m off. My next shift is Tuesday – have a good weekend.’

‘Bye, love,’ Betsan called after her, then turned to Ceri. ‘She’s got a heart of gold, that one. I don’t know what we’d do without her.’

By ‘we’ Betsan was referring to herself and Rowena. Rowena had set up the zero waste shop (with Huw’s help) and many of the villagers had shares in it, including Mrs Moxley, and took turns helping to run the business.

‘Did you find everything you wanted?’ Betsan asked as Ceri lifted her basket onto the counter.

‘I need some bread, but I’ll pick that up from the convenience store. Oh, and some sweet peppers. It’s such a pity there isn’t a proper grocer in Foxmore.’

‘I know what you mean!’ Betsan gave her a sideways look as she rang the purchases through the till. ‘I thought you would grow your own.’

‘There’s only so much I could bring with me,’ Ceri replied. Her house in Cardiff had been rented, and although she’d brought several pots with her and had taken loads of cuttings, she hadn’t thought it right to dig up any of the shrubs she’d planted. ‘Anyway, my garden here is tiny. I did put some plants in when Huw bought the cottage, but most of them aren’t edible because they were mainly for colour and scent, not for eating. I’ve planted some tubs up with veggies, but it’ll be a while before I can harvest anything. Although, I do have some cut-and-come-again lettuces on the go, which are ready now. I’ll just have to be patient for the rest.’

‘I assumed gardeningwasall about being patient,’ Betsan laughed.

‘It is. I’m usually very good at waiting, and I’d love to be self-sufficient when it comes to growing my own veg, but with the best will in the world that’s never going to happen, not with the size of my garden.’

‘I’d offer you some of ours, but Terry loves his lawn. Or should I say, he loves his sit-on lawn mower. He was only telling me yesterday over dinner that he can’t wait to mow the field out the back. He did it a couple of weeks before the wedding, but the grass is already long again.’

Heat flooded into Ceri’s cheeks at the unexpected mention of the field, as an image of her and Damon kissing passionately leapt into her mind. Picking up one of the flyers lying on the counter, she fanned her face with it, saying, ‘Is it my imagination or is it warm in here?’

She hoped she wasn’t going to react like this every time the field was mentioned. Not that she expected it to suddenly become a hot topic of conversation. She hadn’t been aware it existed until Huw had announced that he and Rowena intended to hold their reception there, so Ceri didn’t think the subject would come up much in the future once the post-wedding excitement had faded.

‘It’s your imagination,’ Betsan replied. ‘Either that or the thought of a sit-on mower is getting you all hot under the collar. You gardening types can be rather strange.’

‘Thanks!’ Ceri pulled a face at her.

‘How big a garden do you need?’ Betsan was looking thoughtful, and hope flared in Ceri’s chest. The vicarage was directly opposite Rosehip Cottage – it would be a perfect location if Terry could be persuaded to give up some of his lawn in exchange for a regular supply of fresh vegetables.

‘An allotment-sized plot would be great,’ Ceri replied. It would be a start, although she was aiming for something much bigger eventually. ‘In fact, I would love to have a plot on an actual allotment, but Foxmore doesn’t appear to have one.’ And even if the village did have one that she didn’t know about, there was usually a waiting list and Ceri wanted to get startednow, not in two, three, or four years’ time.

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