Page 70 of The Garden of Forgotten Wishes
Ned had suggested that I meet him at the office around nine, when Charlie was also calling in, because he and a friend were now going to distribute the garden leaflets all over the district, which was a much better idea than Ned doing it.
Charlie must have been early, because he was just leaving the office when I got there, carrying three boxes.
‘Hi, Charlie,’ I said. ‘Are those the leaflets?’
‘Yeah, and a list of places to leave them, though I’ve got a few ideas of my own, too,’ he said slightly indistinctly, since he was pinning down the list on the top of the boxes with his chin, so it didn’t blow away. ‘I’m not coming back with any, that’s for sure.’
He headed off towards the visitors’ gate and I went into the office, where Ned was sitting at his desk in front of a laptop, looking slightly harassed.
‘I hadn’t realized Charlie had a car,’ I said. ‘That’s handy.’
‘If you can call it a car, though he swears it has a full MOT.’ He looked at the screen again and sighed. ‘I made the mistake of checking the website inbox and loads of people have been emailing me, mostly with questions.’
‘What kind of questions? Interesting ones?’
‘No, so far they’re all stuff like what the opening times are, how much a ticket costs and how to find us – all the information they can already find under their noses on the website.’
‘There’s nowt so queer as folks,’ I said, going and looking at the corkboard wall, which was now liberally covered on one side of the old garden plan with Ned’s to-do lists, some markedUrgent!There was also a three-phase long-term plan.
He’d already ticked off one to-do list and right at the top of the next was, ‘Lay wooden walkway around top marshy area, then plant up.’
‘Jacob’s here – he’s down by the new water feature, fixing up his kinetic flower sculpture, or installation, or whatever he calls it,’ he said rather morosely, swivelling round in his chair and watching me run my finger down the lists. ‘Myfy spent last night up there, so she helped him carry it down. She said I should be honoured to have it.’
‘So you should! It’ll be a popular attraction and you’ll probably get art lovers making a special trip to the garden to see it.’
But my finger had stopped at ‘The Project – Phase 1: Marnie to complete the restoration and any necessary replanting in the rose garden and open paths to public.’
I read on, but Phases 2 and 3 didn’t provide any surprises: the lowbeds with lavender borders to be dug over and replanted, more mid-height planting in three of the central mid-level segments within the circular walk, and the long strips of vegetable-style beds created, with lawn walkways in the fourth.
All the usual weeding, hoeing and watering was taken for granted, a bit like breathing.
‘Feasibility of new visitor facilities, museum and shop area’ was still stuck in Phase 3, though it did have a red ring drawn round it.
‘I’ve been thinking about the loos,’ I said thoughtfully.
‘And a delightful thing to ponder over on a bright April morning,’ he said sarcastically. ‘Who could blame you?’
‘Get lost, Mars. I’m the sarcastic one, remember?’ I pointed out. ‘It occurred to me that the current outside visitor toilet might be incorporated into the new part of the building later, so you accessed it from inside the shop. You’d just have to block up the outside door and turn everything around. The new door would be the disabled loo.’
‘Oh – easy then! What about the staff one, don’t you want to drag that into your expensive alterations too?’
‘No, because it’s right on the end, so it can stay as it is, with the door onto the yard. I mean, if we’re muddy, we won’t have to traipse through the shop, which would be locked in the mornings anyway.’
‘I suppose we could look into it – if knocking the two buildings into one is feasible, anyway.’
‘Well then, get someone in to look at it and give you an estimate. We must have proper facilities for the visitors,’ I said, abandoning the wall and going to fill and plug in the kettle. I spooned a generous amount of ground coffee into the large red cafetière.
‘Help yourself,’ he said, still being sarky. ‘Eat my biscuits too – they’re in that Dundee Cake tin.’
‘I thinkyoushould eat some,’ I told him. ‘You’re so grumpy this morning that your blood sugar must be rock bottom.’
‘It’s just … all the extra little things that need doing before we open that keep cropping up. And then as soon as I got in here this morning, the phone started ringing!’
‘That’s only to be expected, if the number is on the website.’ I looked round. ‘It’s not ringing now … wherever it is.’
‘Under the sofa cushions. I shouldn’t have put that advert for the opening day in all the local papers. It wasn’t so bad until they came out.’
‘Yes, you should, if youwantthe garden to be a success.’
