Page 71 of The Garden of Forgotten Wishes
‘One of the local papers is going to cover the opening event, which I suppose is good,’ he admitted. ‘But this morning, someone from regional TV rang me and wants to film me in the garden, telling them about what I’m recreating here,’ he said, even more gloomily. ‘The last place I ever wanted to be again was in front of the camera.’
‘I expect it’ll only be a tiny bit of a local interest feature in the programme, won’t it?’ I consoled him. ‘They won’t be interested in last year’s something-and-nothing bit of scandalmongering. That’s old news.’
‘Old news,’ he repeated, then his narrow mouth quirked up at the corners into a smile. ‘Thanks, Ellwood – I think that cuts my life crisis and meltdown to size.’
‘Everything has its season. You’re hoeing a different row now.’
‘I suppose I’m being over-sensitive …andabout the visitors to Jericho’s End who want me to pose with them for selfies.’
‘It’s the new autograph and you’re just a personality to be snapped with. I mean, they’re not shouting, “Oh, look, there’s the lecherous love rat, Ned Mars”, are they?’
‘Not that I’ve noticed recently,’ he agreed gravely. He ran his hands through the tawny mane of hair in a familiar fashion. ‘You’re right, and most people already know where I live. I’m not hiding out. There was a small piece in the local papers when I inherited Old Grace Hall, about my moving my garden planning business here and how I was looking forward to the longer-term project of restoring the old apothecary garden. Nothing about the scandal.’
I remembered that couple who had stared at him in the pub last Friday evening … but they hadn’t bothered him, just been excited to recognize someone fairly famous.
‘I’m sure your novelty value has long since worn off, but even if youwerea notorious philanderer, it would still bring the punters flocking to see you, as well as the garden, so it would be win-win.’
He winced slightly. ‘When the garden’s open, I’m hoping to spend most of my time down at the bottom of it, in the roped-off areas.’
‘And I’ll be making sure I’m well out of sight when there are any journalists or cameras about,’ I told him. ‘Ireally am hiding out and I don’t want anyone to know I’m here.’
‘You’re not still nervous about your ex finding you, are you?’ he asked curiously. ‘I thought you said he stopped trying to track you down ages ago and found someone new.’
‘N-oo …’ I said slowly. ‘I mean, I know he hasn’t got any power over me now – and I can’t understand how I ever let him have any – but he might think it was amusing to turn up, if he knew where I was. And I don’t know how I’d feel, seeing him again.’
I gave a shiver, somewhere between irrational fear and anger.
Ned gave me a look I couldn’t read, but didn’t say anything.
‘Butter paddles …’ I murmured, following an inner train of thought.
‘What?’ he said, surprised.
‘Oh, nothing,’ I said quickly. ‘Mike’s not interested in old gardens – or any kind of garden – so as long as I keep my name and face out of the media, I’m safe enough. But Jericho’s End hasn’t turned out to be quite the quiet backwater to lose myself in that I hoped it would be.’
‘That’s true, but for a small village up a dead-end road, it has a lot going for it,’ he said. ‘Only in the middle of winter is it really quiet, especially if we get bad weather. The road in snows up, the bus is cancelled and Elf closes the café.’
By now he’d drunk the coffee I’d put in front of him and eaten two gingernut biscuits and a bourbon cream. He looked slightly less frazzled.
‘What do you want me to do this morning?’ I asked as the phone, muffled by the cushions, began to ring.
‘If you could bear it, hold the fort in here for a couple of hours,’ he said. ‘Answer the website emails, open that stack of mail I haven’t got round to, and put anything urgent in a heap. Then if you could answer the phone—’
‘It sounds like a morning of unadulterated pleasure –not,’ I said.
‘I’ve made a list of some other things you might have time to do and here’s a list of passwords and stuff you might need to know.’
‘Notanotherlist? You have been busy! But yes, I suppose I’ll be your PA and secretary and dogsbody – just for today.’
‘You get free run of the coffee and biscuit tin,’ he offered.
‘And what willyoube doing?’ I asked as he got up, stretched cautiously, like a cat in a slightly too small box, and put on the jacket that was hanging on the back of his office chair.
‘I’m off to Great Mumming first, to get a master set of all the keys cut, to hang in the Potting Shed. We’ll have to be much more careful to keep the gates to the private areas locked against the visitors, because there are always some unable to read the signs and I don’t want them wandering round into the Lavender Cottage garden, or sneaking off to peer in the Hall windows.’
‘Would people really do that?’
‘You’d be surprised. Anyway, the master set of keys will be in the Potting Shed and we all have a key to that.’
