Page 84 of The Garden of Forgotten Wishes
I could hear the voices of the visitors from the other side of the big central rose bed – ‘Great Maiden’s Blush’, according to its tag. Life was going on as if that disturbing little scene had never taken place.
I put away my flask and carried on preparing the beds for the mulching, until everything in the garden was rosy again.
When I took my barrow back to the Potting Shed later, I found Gert on her way out, but she changed her mind and came in with me for another cuppa.
‘Only just had a bite to eat. We’ve been taking it in turns, so there’s always a couple of people in the garden or shop,’ she explained.
‘You should have fetched me, so I could spell one of you.’
‘That’s all right, we managed fine, and after today I expect it’ll all quieten down and be more steady, like.’
‘It all seems to be going very well, though, doesn’t it?’ I said. ‘It was practically standing room only in the garden just after we opened, and I see there are still visitors coming in.’
‘It’s what Ned needs, I understand that, but I like my garden to myself, really.’
‘I know what you mean,’ I said sympathetically, ‘but you can always escape into the vegetable patch and the greenhouses on quieter days, can’t you? I’ve worked in gardens open to the public before and the visitors don’t seem to see the staff, so they don’t get in the way of the work.’
‘Ned said the same,’ she admitted grudgingly. ‘He says after this weekend me, you and him can carry on much as usual and leave the shop to Steve and James to sort between them. They’re happy as pigs in muck, those two, playing shop.’
The pig reference was unfortunate, since it reminded me of Saul Vane. I told her that I’d run into him and Wayne in the rose garden and he’d ranted on a bit at me, then asked her, was he quite sane?
‘He’s surly and not much liked, is Saul, but shrewd as they come with the pig farming,’ she said judiciously. ‘He doesn’t like foreigners and he’s a bit too ready to tell anyone who looks as if they’re enjoying themselves that they’re sinners heading for hell. He found a courting couple on his land last summer,’ she added. ‘Backpackers, they were. He set the dogs on them and they’re vicious brutes, those dogs, so there was quite a fuss about it.’
‘He sounds delightful! I think I’ll give Cross Ways Farm a wide berth,’ I said, then changed the subject. ‘Ned willhaveto give guided tours of the garden. When he was showing Clara round, loads of other visitors were hanging on every word.’
‘I don’t know … He says he’s had enough of that kind of thing and just wants to work in the garden now,’ she said doubtfully.
‘I realize he doesn’t want to be in the limelight any more, but once he gets going, he forgets he has an audience, he’s so enthusiastic.’
Then I remembered Cress’s friend Roddy Lightower, and told her about him and his offer to work in the garden as a volunteer. ‘He sounded perfect, because he can take on a lot of the things Ned doesn’t want to do, like the guided tours and office work.’
‘A few volunteers would be a godsend,’ Gertie agreed. ‘There was a couple I was talking to who wanted to help in the garden, too. They’regoing to come back another day and I’ll show them the vegetable patch then.’
I didn’t think her vegetable patch was that high on Ned’s list of things he’d like more help with, but I smiled encouragingly and said many hands made light work, and if they were free, that was even better.
‘James heard someone asking Ned about a garden design too,’ Gertie said. ‘So maybe he’ll get more of those and he can go and hide in his office in the afternoons, when it all gets too much for him.’
She gave a grin and went off again, and I finished my tea and a large chunk of Bakewell tart (the lardy cake put out for the visitors had vanished down to the last crumb and the empty plate stood on the end of the nearest workbench), and went back to work, this time to tie up that honeysuckle I’d found and a vigorous rambling rose near the little temple.
And this time, no one took a bit of notice of me.
I still felt uneasy about my encounter with Saul Vane.
Ned and I were back on the old terms of trust and friendship, so what would he think if he found out I’d kept something like that a secret from him?
I really,reallydidn’t want him to find out …
It was after four when I went back to the courtyard to put my tools away before setting off for the River Walk. The last stragglers were coming out of the shop, past the depleted plant stands, clutching their purchases. Steve was waiting by the gate to let them out and then lock it behind them.
And it must have been an equally busy day for the River Walk, for the litter bins were full to overflowing and my haul from under the bushes, or stuffed behind rocks, was three plastic bottles, two cans and a pair of socks, one with a large hole in it.
The last, faint echoes of chattering holidaymakers, screaming children and crying babies seemed still to linger and the only atmosphere detectable up by the falls was one of hope that silence and peace would fall upon it some time soon, if it held its breath …
The litter picking and sorting had taken longer than usual, and by the time I’d returned to the Grace Garden, the shop had been cashed up and closed and Ned was just returning from a circuit of the garden.
Apparently even in the Grace Garden itself, one or two chocolate bar wrappers had been planted among the herbs and an empty Coke bottle placed on the sundial.
Perhaps someone had given it a libation?
