Page 24 of One Perfect Day in Lovely Bay
‘I’ll do it. Do you want another one?’
‘A third tea for me? Oh, go on then. You twisted my arm.’
‘You just sit there and soak up the magic of the place. This weekend you’re doing nothing.’
Cally nodded. She liked the idea of that indeed. It had been a long time since she’d spent her time doing nothing. So long thatshe didn’t even know what it felt like to just sit back and not worry. She tutted to herself as she thought about how she hadn’t really been that bothered about the trip to Scotland. In fact, she’d dismissed it a little bit. How utterly wrong she’d been. Her perspective so far told her that trying new stuff, going new places and experiencing other ways of the world was a positive. What she didn’t know; that thing called life had a few other things waiting for her just around the corner.
14
Cally had traded her usual uniform of short skirt and ballet flats for jeans and wellies. She also had one of Logan’s cashmere jumpers over her shoulders and a green estate travel mug with hot blackcurrant in her hand. The weather in Scotland performed. A clear blue sky with a scattering of puffy white clouds topped the beauty of the landscape. Her funny stick-y out-y fine baby blonde hair was scrunched up on top of her head in a clip and she had not a scrap of make-up on her face, just how she liked it. As she stomped along a path lined with heather, it was an understatement to say that our Cally loved the Scottish version of Lovely Manor. She didn’t just love it. An odd little part of her felt as if she was at home. Strange, but true.
As she walked along, lost in the spectacular scenery, it hit Cally how little she’d travelled. Like just about everything in her adolescent and young adult life, her care role had put paid to travelling around the world or anywhere at all, really. She’d not travelled for many reasons but mostly because there hadn’t been anyone else to take over the responsibility of her caring job, not enough money and even less time. Now, with hindsight, it felt worse.
To somehow try and make herself feel better about her sheltered life, she’d always half-heartedly told herself that she’d not really wanted to travel anyway, so what did it matter? To negate the premise that she might be missing out, she’d staunchly maintained that she liked staying put right where she was. She’d reiterated until she was blue in the face and had actually perceived it to be true that travelling was for other people; those who weren’t like her. She’d made herself believe that she probably wouldn’t like exploring anyway. That other places wouldn’t be nice and she’d be out of her comfort zone. She’d fed herself the same old, tired narrative so many times that she’d actually come to believe it in the end. She’d managed to make it through most of her life not going anywhere much because the story she’d told herself had clipped her wings. Now, her wings were spreading. By way of a Scottish estate, Cally de Pfeffer could feel herself flying high. Could she, in fact, give an eagle a run for its money? She’d have a damn good try.
As she walked along, blown away by the breathtaking scenery and loving the different far-reaching views, the change of outlook did her the world of good. She felt as if someone had picked her up by the top of her head, swiftly zoomed her up to the other end of the country and put her down again in a completely different environment altogether. Somewhere outstandingly beautiful that was making her reassess her life and existence. Our gorgeous Cally was experiencing that wonderful, almost discombobulating feeling of clarity when away from day-to-day life. It was breathing new energy into her left, right and centre.
As she pounded along, things floated and percolated through her brain. Her relationship with Logan and what she wanted from it, her job in the chemist and the promotion opportunity and whether or not she was going to accept it, applying for a mortgage, deciding whether or not to move in with Logan,looking for a flat. All of it whirred through her head as she walked along, taking in more beautiful scenery every which way she turned. She stopped for a minute and looked up at the ancient trees above and watched their tops swaying gently in the breeze. The whole area seemed to be slowly undulating and moving to its own little beat and somehow whispering to her at the same time. She blinked and shook her head as it went through her mind that the trees were having a conversation with her. Saying hello. She smiled and said hello back.
Half an hour later, making her way back in the direction of the cottage, she stopped outside the large conservatory greenhouse situated just along from the house and peered in. The beautiful old glass building with its old-fashioned panes, tall doors, and roof with gorgeous old fretwork appeared from the outside so perfect that it looked almost unreal. However, on peering in, it was more than obvious that the conservatory was very much a working part of the estate. Long lines of timber benches held various pots with plants at different stages of growth. An old copper watering system ran along the top of the roof, and on the left hand side, rows of luscious plants in hanging baskets stretched from front to back. Masses of terracotta seedling pots lined up by the windows held plant babies leaning towards the light, and line upon line of seed trays filled with soil were labelled with little wooden sticks.
As Cally peered into the conservatory, she squinted against the glare of the sun on the glass and made out a woman in green dungarees, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail under a green estate baseball cap. The woman looked up, catching Cally's eye through the window.
'Hi,' the woman called out, her voice muffled through the glass. She made her way to the door, its old hinges creaked, and the bottom scraped along the floor as she pulled it open. 'You must be Logan's Cally. I'm Morag; head gardener is my officialtitle here at the estate. Or HOG for Head of Gardening. Really, it’s a fancy title for the fact that I get to mess around with plants all day.'
Cally smiled, extending her hand. 'Lovely to meet you. Yes, I’m Cally. I hope I'm not interrupting anything.'
Morag waved away Cally’s concern with a soil-stained hand. 'Not at all, lass. I was just tending to the seedlings up the back there. Would you like to come in and have a look around?'
'Oh, I'd love to. It’s so nice.’
As Cally followed Morag into the conservatory, she was hit by warm, humid air, totally in contrast to the crisp, fresh Scottish day outside. The scent of damp earth, greenery, and growing things enveloped her as she followed Morag down a narrow path between benches overloaded with plants on the far side. The masses of plants reminded her of the few pots of herbs she’d bought from B & Q and tended on her windowsill back in Lovely Bay. And she’d thought she was a gardener. Hilarious.
Cally didn’t know where to look first. From the outside, the conservatory had lookedfairlyimpressive. From the inside, it was much bigger than it appeared and a whole different ball game altogether. 'This is incredible.' Cally said almost to herself as she took in the rows of plants in various stages of growth. Everywhere she looked plants, cuttings, hanging baskets and shrubs jostled for space. 'I've never seen anything like it.'
Morag beamed. 'Aye, it's a special place, this. It’s been part of the estate for generations. The original structure was built in the 1850s, though we've made a few upgrades since then. Every time I come in here, I just get lost and enter a whole other world.’
Cally ran her hand along one of the timber benches, feeling the smooth surface worn by years of use. She peered up above at an extensive pulley system engineering the opening of the windows in the roof. 'It's amazing that it's still standing after all this time.'
'Oh, these old buildings are tougher than they look,' Morag chuckled. 'But you're right; it takes a fair bit of upkeep. We had to replace most of the glass about a decade ago, but we kept as much of the original structure as we could. The elements up here make things work for their keep. This old place just keeps on going. Even in the winter, it’s gorgeous in here what with its own heating system and all. Can’t complain.'
As they turned at the end and walked along the central aisle, Morag pointed out various cuttings. She gestured to a row of small, leafy plants. 'These are herbs for the kitchen. Rosemary, thyme, basil – all grown right here on the estate. We dry them now too and they’re sold in a shop in town. We have another lot of greenhouses on the far side, too. This one here is good because of its position. They knew what they were doing when they built this. Someone had their head screwed on the right way around.'
Cally inhaled the scent of the herbs, closed her eyes for a second and felt a bit pathetic about the few straggly pots on her balcony. 'I bet they taste amazing fresh from the garden. I have a few at home. I snip them into things, and it’s been an eye-opener. Nothing like this, though, obviously.’
'That they do,' Morag agreed. 'The cook swears by them. Says they're what makes her cooking so special.'
They moved on to another section, where long lines of larger plants were growing in thick old terracotta pots marked with time and age. Morag pointed to another long bench. 'These are some of our medicinal plants. We've been growing them here for centuries. Some of these plants have literally passed down through the generations.'
'Medicinal plants? Like what?'
'Oh, all sorts. Chamomile for sleeplessness, peppermint for digestion, and echinacea for all sorts. Lavender, stevia, borage, and suchlike. Anything and everything. You name it, we’ve tried to grow it.'
Cally nodded, impressed. 'It's like having your own little pharmacy right here in the garden.'
Morag smiled. 'That's exactly what it is. In the old days places like this were essential, apparently. Some of the people of the house would often act as the local healers, using plants grown right here in the conservatory.' Morag nodded. ‘Yeah, I read all about it in one of the books in the library there.’
As they continued the little impromptu tour, Cally couldn’t quite get enough. Fascinated by the history and knowledge embedded in the glass structure, she could feel her wings spreading just that little bit more. Fly high, our Cally, fly. ‘Amazing how plants are medicinal when you think about it.’
