Page 36 of The Allotment on Willow Tree Lane

‘All of them, I think. I need to make sure they’re not going to come crashing down in the next big storm.’

‘Very wise,’ she said, over the rim of her glass. ‘You don’t want to take that kind of risk. If a tree lands on a building, it can do a terrific amount of damage.’

‘I hadn’t considered that,’ he admitted. ‘I was more concerned about a rotten branch falling on my car, but now you’ve given me something else to worry about.’

‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I doubt it’s in any immediate danger, though, so you can safely carry on parking it on your driveway.’

‘I haven’t bought it yet,’ he confessed. ‘I was hoping to park it in the garage, but my gran’s Morris 1100 is already in there.’

Ceri stared at him blankly.

‘It’s a car,’ he explained. ‘An old one. Probably vintage by now. It’s in a bit of a state. I was thinking of something a bit more modern, preferably with power steering and hydraulic brakes.’

‘A petrolhead, are you?’ she asked.

‘Not at all,’ Damon said. ‘I’m not overly interested in cars. As long as it gets me from A to B, I’m happy.’ Aiden was the one who had loved cars. They had been his downfall.

There was silence for a while, the only sounds being the buzz and hum of bees as they flitted from flower to flower, intent on their last meal of the day, and he wondered what he could say to fill it.

‘Compost!’ he blurted.

‘Ah, yes, you wondered if I could make use of some? How much have you got?’

‘Three heaps worth.’

Ceri’s eyes widened. ‘The three heaps I was drooling over?’

‘The very same.’

‘All of it?’

‘All of it,’ he confirmed. ‘I’m not going to be able to use it this year, so I thought maybe you could.’

‘It’s good stuff,’ she said, ‘well rotted. Are you sure you don’t need it?’

‘I’m sure. Anyway, I need the space. I’ve got a load more stuff to compost.’

‘In that case, thank you.’ She topped up his glass. ‘I take it you’ve been busy. Got lots of fresh material?’

Damon froze. How could she possibly know that? No one knew he had been composing new songs, not even Luke. He closed his eyes, then slowly opened them again, feeling a prat when he realised she was referring to fresh material for thecompost heap. What an idiot.

‘Are you OK?’ She had a wary expression on her face.

‘Yeah, sorry, I was miles away for a second. Um, yeah, I have been busy. I’ve cut back the rhododendrons and the hydrangeas, and a few other things, too. And I’ve bought a shredder.’

Ceri sat forward. ‘Which one? I love a shredder.’

Damon uttered a surprised laugh. He hadn’t expected his shredder purchase to elicit such an enthusiastic response.

‘I couldn’t decide between a chipper or a shredder at first,’ he began, and proceeded to explain his reasoning, and tell her the make and model he had ended up buying.

‘Good choice,’ she declared. ‘I always tell people that if they’ve regularly got a lot of green waste to dispose of, then a shredder is the way to go. Chopping up your hedge clippings or brambles before you pop them on the compost heap means they will break down far more quickly.’

‘You do realise you’re preaching to the converted,’ he teased.

‘Sorry. Until I moved to Foxmore, I used to work in a garden centre and I would often be asked advice on which tools to buy.’

‘I thought you might be on commission, for a minute.’

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