Page 38 of The Garden of Forgotten Wishes
‘OK,’ I agreed, though I thought it might be some time before I could evenseeany of the beds, under that mass of tangled thornybranches. ‘Did you say you were going to be opening the garden to the public every afternoon except Tuesdays?’
‘Yes, twelve till four. There’ll be an opening ceremony on Good Friday and then, we’re off. It means we’ll be doing a lot of our work under the eyes of the visitors.’
‘I got used to that, working for the Heritage Homes Trust,’ I said unthinkingly, and saw a wary shadow cross his face that showed he still had some lingering doubts about me.
But all he said was, ‘I’m charging them four pounds a head, so I hope they’ll feel they’re getting their money’s worth. When Uncle Theo used to open it a couple of afternoons a week in summer, it was a pound, which was barely worth the effort.’
‘I think they’ll all be riveted by what you’re doing and happy to contribute to saving such a wonderful garden. Have you got a website?’
‘Yes, and it’s up and running, so I can keep updating what we’re doing and our future plans.’
‘Good, and I think I’d develop that museum area sooner rather than later. Shops can beverylucrative, if you stock the right things.’
‘I have to prioritize, because there isn’t much money. I’m spending what I made from the sale of my house and it’s stretched as it is,’ he said, and I thought he must have stretched it quite a bit to create his Poison Garden and wetland area.
The Potting Shed proved to be as big as his office, a long, low building that served several purposes. The end near the door was set out like a mini staffroom, with chairs, a little stove, a kettle and a fridge.
Beyond this were long wooden workbenches, with racks of tools and shelves of packets, tins and jam jars full of odds and ends, then at the further end were the garden tools, a couple of wheelbarrows and a big heap of those woven green garden waste bags.
‘We’ll have to keep the door locked all the time when we open, because people are so nosy, even when there’s a “Private” sign on the door. Gertie and James like to have their lunch in here and I sometimes join them … but if I forget, Gert brings something over to the office, or wherever I am in the garden. I suppose we’ll need to rearrange thingsa bit when we’re open, though. I’ll need someone to take over from James on the ticket hatch while he has lunch or a break.’
‘More expense?’
‘Yes, but necessary, and I’ve got someone in mind who might do a few hours when needed – Gertie’s husband, Steve. I’ll see.’
He showed me some of the spiked metal plant markers James was treating for rust, before repainting, then found me long leather gauntlets and two different sizes of secateurs, though probably a machete would be more use in the first instance. He put them in a wheelbarrow and topped them with several of the green bags.
‘There we are: all ready to go,’ he said. ‘Bring the tools back here at the end of the working day, but leave any bags of cuttings and I’ll take them away later.’
He looked at his watch. ‘Both Gertie and James are much later than usual today, but you can meet them in a bit. In fact, if they need you to help with anything heavy, they’ll come and find you anyway, once they know you’re here.’
‘Oh, I’m used to being bossed about by elderly gardeners,’ I said resignedly. ‘Do you have a cunning plan for how you’d like me to deal with the rose garden, or shall I just go for it?’
‘Well, I know it’s wedge-shaped – a narrow triangle – so it’ll be much wider near the back. I assume the brick path goes right around it – there seems to be the start of two paths at either end of the fish pond. The top part is much smaller and narrows towards the road, but Wen told me once that she couldjustremember being able to walk around it and that there was a small marble bench at the top.’
‘How about if I simply clear a way round all the paths first, for access, before tackling the actual rose beds?’ I suggested. ‘That way, we’ll have an idea of what’s there, too, and maybe I’ll have spotted some helpful plant markers.’
‘OK,’ he agreed rather grudgingly, as if he’d have liked to order me to do something else, just to assert his authority, if mine hadn’t been such a sensible suggestion. He said nothing more as I trundled my barrow past him and out of the Potting Shed.
‘What areyougoing to do?’ I asked him as he locked the door behind us.
‘Me?’ He seemed surprised to be asked. ‘I’m going to put in some time on my pond – I want to get the liner in soon and finish any hard landscaping – and then I’ve got a commission for a garden design to make a start on.’
I thought there was a good chance he’d be so engrossed in his pond that he’d entirely forget the garden design, though at least that was something that could be done in the evenings.
I parked my wheelbarrow by the fish pond and contemplated my task. I could see the entrances to the paths, two on each side of the pond, now I knew they were there, but they vanished after about a foot into an almost impenetrable-looking thicket of entwined thorny branches. I wondered if I might indeed find Sleeping Beauty in there, but not the Beast, because Wayne was already perfectly cast for the role.
I decided to begin with the bigger task and hack my way to the back of the garden – Marnie of the Jungle.
Time flies when you’re enjoying yourself.
I started on the path nearest the gate to Lavender Cottage, not pruning carefully, which would come later, just clearing a way through.
The old, handmade bricks of the path were laid in a herringbone pattern and slippery with algae and moss. Under their heavy mulch of dead leaves, I’d discovered the beds had been edged with those wavy-topped terracotta border tiles, probably a late-Victorian addition.
I’d filled several of the huge garden bags and was making good progress up one side of the path – though perhaps a machete reallymighthave been better for the first cut – when Ned’s deep voice somewhere behind me startled me so much I dropped the large secateurs. I’d been totally off in a world of my own.
‘Marnie, where are you?’ he repeated, and I turned to find him standing at the entrance to the path, a huge, dark, but unthreatening shape against the light.
