Chapter 17
Rose is thinking of reasons why it wouldn’t be a good idea to camp in the garden but can’t find any. She’s never been much of a sleeping outdoors kind of person, preferring the comfort of her own bed. But she has to admit the idea of sleeping under the stars amongst her flowers and shrubs has a new appeal. She’d not be too far from her bed if she was really desperate either. Besides, she reminds herself, she’s forging a new path, trying new things, isn’t she? Molly is standing next to Madame Aggie Panther, still waiting for an answer. She’s looking up at her grandma, her best winning smile firmly in place, her pretty topaz eyes fixed on Rose’s.
‘Well, providing the tent that Mummy found in the loft hasn’t got holes in it, I think it will be okay.’
Molly does a crazy little dance, her excited whoops scaring off a couple of fat seagulls perched on the garden gate. ‘Can we camp tonight, Granny?’ she asks, pink from her exertions.
‘Not tonight, we have to check the tent and sort sleeping bags.’
Molly sighs. ‘Tomorrow then?’
‘We’ll see. Now off you go and have your breakfast. Your mummy’s made boiled eggs.’
She does as Rose asks, her brown curls pulled into a high ponytail swinging back and forth as she hopscotches towards the kitchen door, singing. Oh, to be a child again. Finding joy in the smallest things. The exuberance of youth. Actually, Rose thinks she wouldn’t want to have her life over again. She’s happy at the moment and re-learning how to find joy. So far, she’s not doing bad at all. A damp breeze kisses the faces of the sweet peas as she passes, wafting a fragrant mix of hyacinth and orange blossom through the air, a gift to Rose. Joyous. There are so many sweet peas now that she’s considering picking some for the house, and then a wonderful idea unfurls inside her mind. Josh’s grandma might like a little bouquet of these. Rose could add a few other blooms too, and she and Josh could visit her in the care home. How she could help Josh and his gran had been a puzzle until now. Yes, she’d told him they could visit her, but not until now did she realise how flowers, specifically the sweet peas, might give the old lady a lift.
When she and Josh had talked about his gran being involved in a sensory garden, Rose couldn’t quite grasp how, apart from bringing her here to see this one. She’d initially thought that would be lovely, but too overwhelming for someone with dementia. But this might be a first step. She pulls her mobile phone from her jeans pocket and calls him.
‘Rose, lovely to hear from you. I was only thinking about you the other day and thought I might phone soon for a chat.’
‘Are you feeling a bit down still?’
‘Yeah, but better since I spoke to you. You talk a lot of sense and don’t judge.’
Rose finds herself grinning. ‘What a lovely thing to say. Maybe we could kill two proverbial birds. How about we combine our chat with a visit to see your gran? I was thinking about the sensory garden thing, and wondered if just taking her a bunch of sweet peas and a few other blooms might help give her a boost?’
There’s a short pause, then Josh says, ‘I think that would be a great idea, but I need to prepare myself for it falling flat. She might just sit in her chair by the window and look straight through us. It’s definitely worth a try, though.’
‘It is. When would you be free to go?’
‘This afternoon?’ His enthusiasm is palpable.
The exuberance of youth. ‘I’ll check with my daughter and call you back. Can’t see a problem, though.’
If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em.
* * *
It’s a redbrick Victorian house, not quite a mansion, but nearly. Rose thinks it looks almost watchful as it sits at the top of a sweeping drive, its leaded windows looking out over the green expanse of hills rolling to a stop in the shade of a wooded valley. She imagines it was once the home of a rich merchant, as it’s not too far from the port of Falmouth. As care homes go, it’s not too shabby, and Rose has seen a few, during a brief stint as a district nurse. As they step through the huge oak doors, Rose can tell that Holywell Heights, both inside and out, is definitely worth the pretty penny Josh’s parents must be paying. The staff are all very friendly and welcoming and seem thrilled that Josh has come to visit his gran.
As they walk up the central staircase to her room Rose asks, ‘What’s your gran’s name? I can’t call her “Gran”. Now, that would be confusing.’
Josh laughs. ‘It would. It’s Lily.’
‘Appropriate for a lady who loves flowers.’ Rose has a few unexpected butterflies as they walk along the carpeted corridor to Lily’s room. She hopes for Josh’s sake that the visit goes well. Has she been too optimistic? Though he said he’d prepare for disappointment, Rose knows he’s still very fragile. Josh walks ahead of her, carefully carrying the flowers like a nervous pageboy, and then he gives a gentle tap on the door before entering the enormous bedroom.
Lily is dressed in a lilac two-piece, a cream blouse under the jacket and smart brown lace-ups on her feet. She’s sitting in a high-backed chair, a cane in her right hand, gazing out through a huge window. Rose thinks she looks a little like the late Queen, ready to have her portrait painted. Lily is certainly not what Rose expected at all, and she can’t help thinking that she looks on her guard, ready to leave at a moment’s notice rather than relaxing in her room.
Josh hands the bouquet of blue and pink sweet peas, with white alyssum, to Rose, while he draws up two chairs in front of Lily’s. Lily has shown little interest in either of them so far, save a first glance as they came into the room. Rose notices her face is subtly made-up, giving warmth to her cheeks and blue eyes.
‘Gran, it’s Josh. I’ve brought my friend Rose to see you, and some flowers.’ He takes the bouquet and holds it out to her. At first, she ignores him, then her nostrils flare and she takes the bouquet and inhales its subtle fragrance. A hint of a smile wavers on her lips, then as she takes in the delicate petals and colours of the sweet peas, the smile widens. ‘Do you remember what these are called, Gran?’ Josh touches one of the sweet peas.
Lily looks at him, surprised. ‘Of course I do.’ Her voice is strong, commanding. Not a voice Rose imagines a lady of Lily’s age would possess. ‘Sweet peas. I grow them in my garden. My grandson loves them. I even call him Sweet Pea sometimes.’
Josh turns a wobbly smile to Rose and nods at Lily. ‘You did. I loved you calling me that.’
Suspicion flits through Lily’s eyes. ‘You aren’t Josh. Josh is just a boy.’
‘I was a boy, Gran. I’ve grown up a bit.’
Rose knows that Josh is just holding it together, so she says, ‘Hi, Lily, I’m Rose. I grew those flowers in my garden.’
A benign look pushes suspicion to one side as Lily peers more closely at Rose’s face. ‘You do my garden? What happened to Graham from next door? He always used to cut the grass.’
‘These are from my garden, Lily. We thought you’d like them,’ Rose soothes, aware that Lily’s getting agitated.
‘You’re a bit familiar, aren’t you, calling me Lily? I don’t even know you. Go away.’ Lily looks out of the window and taps her cane twice on the floor, very deliberately.
Rose lowers her voice and says to Josh, ‘Maybe we should go. We don’t want to upset her. I’ll go and get a vase for those first … give you a bit longer with her on your own.’
As she stands up, Lily addresses her. ‘This garden is a disgrace.’ She nods outside. ‘Look at it. Walls and bits of grass. Regimented bushes standing to attention like privates on parade. What’s the point in that? Gardens and the things growing in them should be allowed to thrive, to develop, to have a mind of their own.’
These sentiments are so much like Rose’s philosophy, she’s at a loss for words. She goes over to the window and looks out at the wide sweep of lawn and shrubs. Lush, green, but soulless. ‘I see exactly what you mean, Mrs, er…’ She’s suddenly stuck and shoots a pleading look at Josh.
Josh whispers, ‘Manville.’
‘Mrs Manville. I totally agree that gardens have to be allowed some freedom, to spread their joy, healing and comfort. If growing things are trussed, bound and restricted, they can only give us so much. A bit like we humans.’ Rose is unsurprised at what she said or the passion in her voice, but surprised she’d said it out loud.
Lily smiles and the blue of her eyes sparkles like an ocean under a summer sun. The years fall away and Rose can see the girl she once was. ‘My thoughts exactly. What’s your name again?’
‘It’s Rose, Mrs Manville.’
‘Don’t be so formal. Call me Lily.’ Josh coughs to disguise his amusement and she frowns at him. ‘How long have you had that cold, Josh? You know you shouldn’t run about the house barefoot. I’ve told you a thousand times. Have some linctus, it’s in the bathroom cabinet.’
Josh looks caught between laughter and tears, and Rose pats his shoulder. ‘I’ll go and get a vase of water for your blooms, Lily. They will look lovely on the windowsill.’
Lily nods, but her smile is fading and she looks through Rose. ‘Yes. I grew those myself … I think?’ She looks at the flowers in her hands, smells them and the smile grows back. ‘Such beautiful colours.’
When Rose comes back with a tall yellow vase, Josh is holding his gran’s hand while she tells him all about her twin grandchildren. He keeps wiping a stray tear away and smiling valiantly, but Lily doesn’t seem to notice. ‘They sound like a lively pair,’ he says as Rose puts the flowers in the vase and sets them on the windowsill.
‘Oh, they are. Josh is so much like his father at his age. Bright as anything, but often boisterous with it.’
Josh laughs. ‘Bet he’s a hoot.’
‘Yes, he can be. He loves my flowers.’ She nods at the yellow vase. ‘Sweet peas are his favourite. I grow them in my garden.’
Rose thinks it’s time they went, as she isn’t sure how much longer Josh can keep smiling. ‘Well, we’ll be off now. Thanks so much for the chat, it was lovely. Maybe you can come and visit my garden soon? Would you like that?’
‘Yes, dear. I’m not sure if I can get out this damned place, though. I’ve been waiting by the window for the taxi to take me to my son’s house for ages today. I’ve dressed smartly because I know Robert might take me out to lunch too.’ She smooths her skirt. ‘I don’t see Robert much now. He’s so busy – a doctor, you know.’
The pride in her voice and the realisation that she’s dressed in her best because she’s waiting for her son is almost too much to bear. ‘Dad comes to see you every week, Gran. You come to lunch at home sometimes too…’ Josh says, quietly. ‘But you don’t remember.’
Lily looks through him vacantly, then at the flowers. Recognition brings a smile. ‘Sweet peas. I do love them.’
* * *
In the car, Josh wipes away more tears, but he smiles through them. ‘Well, that is what I call a result. Though bits of it were heartbreaking, it was mostly uplifting, as she never normally says more than a few words. She recognised me briefly too, when I coughed. That’s a first.’
Rose knows they must be cautious, but she’s quietly optimistic. ‘I think it could be the sweet peas that made the difference. The sight and smell of them obviously unlocked happy memories for her.’
‘I’m convinced of it. Can we take her to your garden soon?’
‘If the staff think it’s a good idea, then yes. It might help that I used to be a nurse and have a little experience with dementia patients.’
‘Excellent. Thanks so much again, Rose. Can I run an idea past you?’
‘Of course.’
‘Could I come and help tend your garden for a while, just to learn a few things, get some experience, you know? This is with a view to maybe working as a gardener.’
‘My garden is your garden. A grand idea.’
‘Thanks, Rose. When I was in your garden, drunk and disorderly and behaving disgracefully,’ He shakes his head. ‘Once again, I’m so sorry for that, Rose.’ Rose gives him an encouraging smile and pats his hand. ‘Anyway, after I’d recovered a bit, I think being there in the garden with the sweet peas and growing things had a really positive effect on me, you know? It linked the me now, back to the me then, when everything was simpler. I get that I can’t turn back the clock, but remembering the good times I had with my sister and Gran gave me a boost. Right now, I need all the boosts I can get.’ He bowed his head and looked sheepish. ‘You helped loads, of course.’
‘I’m only too happy to help. Give me a bell when you want to pop over and we’ll organise it.’
* * *
‘This was one of my daughter’s better ideas,’ Bella says, raising a glass in cheers.
Rose gently clinks her own against it. ‘It was. Let’s hope we both get some sleep, though.’
The two women are sitting outside the old tent in the garden, the scent of the nearby honeysuckle heavy in the evening air. There’s a faint trace of charcoal in it too, as they’ve spent considerable time grilling sausages for hotdogs, and making s’mores while trying to prevent Wesley from throwing a whole packet of marshmallows onto the BBQ. Eventually, after numerous bedtime stories and Molly’s amateur dramatics, which involved her imagining she could hear wolves in the distance, both children drifted off to sleep in their new sleeping bags. Rose had only managed to find two slightly worse-for-wear adult ones in the loft, hence the dash to the camping stores earlier, and she’d brought out a couple of blankets to ensure they’d all be warm enough. Bella had said she was fussing needlessly, as it was July, but Rose wanted to be comfy.
As she and her daughter relax in their deckchairs outside the tent and watch the pinprick stars flicker on in the lavender sky, she pushes away thoughts of sneaking back up to her big queen-size bed in the dead of night. That wouldn’t be a team player kind of thing to do, now would it? Maybe not, but it’s tempting, nevertheless. That big snuggly duvet and feather pillows. Bliss.
‘What are you smiling at?’ Bella asks, offering a bowl of peanuts.
Rose takes a handful. Oops, caught red-handed. ‘Nothing. Just thinking what a lovely evening it is. The scent of honeysuckle is so strong tonight.’
‘It is. The whole garden smells gorgeous. It’s got that earthy grassy smell mixed with the day’s heat from the sun trapped in the leaves, the lawn, everything.’
This surprises Rose. She’s never thought about smells in such detail. ‘What does the trapped heat from the sun smell like?’
‘Take a deep breath through your nose and hold it a few beats.’
Rose does. ‘Yeah?’ she replies through a tight mouth as she’s still holding her breath.
‘Release slowly and then sniff.’
Rose does as she’s told. ‘Okay.’
‘What you have just smelled is trapped heat from the sun. Get it now?’
There’s an indefinable earthy warmth running under the evening garden scent. It’s as good a description of trapped heat as she can find. ‘I think I do, yes.’ There’s a feeling of warmth running through her too. It’s so wonderful to be out here sharing nature with Bella. She’s going through so much trauma right now too, but managing to hold fast, battle through and smile while she’s doing it. Rose knows she’s doing the swan act, serenely gliding through the water while underneath, her legs are paddling furiously, but she’s always been a strong swimmer.
‘Look at that!’ Bella gasps and points south, to where the navy line of ocean kisses the hazy lavender heavens. ‘A shooting star.’
Rose isn’t quite sure that she saw it, but says, ‘Wow. Did you make a wish?’
‘Yeah… I’ve never seen one before,’ Bella whispers in amazement.
A gentle breeze soughs through the willow arch and Rose reaches for her daughter’s hand. ‘How’s it all going with Nigel? Heard anything from him today?’
She sighs. ‘You know I told you he was texting and ringing every five seconds the day we left and every day after, begging me to go home?’ Rose nods. ‘There’s been nothing for almost twenty-four hours. It’s as if he’s washed his hands of us… I had hoped he’d come round because I do love him still.’
This makes Rose sad because deep down she thinks Nigel is a decent man. He’s just chasing carrots dangled from on high, instead of realising he has many more things to cherish at root level. ‘He might still come round. Once he’s been without you and those lovely children for a time, he will see how empty his life is and what really matters.’
Bella shrugs. ‘We’ll see. I’m not giving up, though. When you were out visiting Josh’s grandma, I called Hannah and told her what had happened. She’s still up for the campervan café idea. She mentioned we could give it a trial run one weekend and see if we get any customers.’ Bella’s smile falters. ‘Thing is, it would mean you looking after the children … and I’ve asked so much of you already.’
‘It would be my pleasure. And if it takes off, I’ll help out as much as I can. There’s always the brilliant little nursery that Molly went to for Wesley, and of course, Molly will be at school. If you want something badly enough, you can make it happen.’
Bella squeezes Rose’s hand and wipes away a tear with the other one. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you, Mum.’
‘Well, luckily you don’t have to find out. Shall we have another cheeky glass before turning in? I’d like to sit outside in this garden paradise awhile and breathe in the trapped sunshine and fresh earthy smells.’ Rose laughs. ‘I don’t have to try too hard to see you pottering around the prim-noses in your vest and nappy.’
‘Aw, I bet I was such a cutie.’
‘Still are.’
‘I’ll second that,’ comes a voice from behind.
‘Nigel?’ Bella says, jumping up.
Nigel walks over and gives her a big hug. ‘I had to come and see you. I’ve missed you all so much.’
Rose is in danger of becoming the biggest gooseberry in the garden as her daughter holds him tight and tells him she’s missed him too. ‘Nice to see you, Nigel. Can I get you a glass of wine?’
‘Yes, please, Rose. Sorry for just rocking up, but…’ He gets choked up, so Rose pats him on the shoulder and walks past.
Upon her return, the two of them are sitting in the deckchairs deep in conversation, voices low so as not to wake the children. Rose is pleased to hear no angry words or snapping but is unsure what to do next. She wants to leave them to it, but also wants to make sure Bella is okay. ‘Anything else I can get you both?’ She hands the wine bottle to Bella and a clean glass to Nigel. ‘I have some ham and bread rolls, Nigel. You just missed out on the BBQ.’
‘I ate on the way down, thanks, Rose.’ Nigel pushes his hand through his floppy blond fringe and tries a smile. Rose thinks he looks ten years older, and is it any wonder?
Bella is giving her an ‘I’m fine’ smile, so Rose says, ‘I’ll leave you to it. You know where I am if you want anything.’
Ten minutes later as she’s making a coffee, Bella comes in and puts her arm through hers. ‘Mum, is it okay if Nigel stays in the tent with us tonight? We have lots to talk about and the kids would love it if they woke up to find him there.’
A mixture of relief and worry offer themselves for consideration and Rose acknowledges both. ‘As long as you’re fine with it, I’m fine with it.’
‘Don’t worry. I’m still sticking to my guns. Just because he’s driven down from Birmingham to say sorry, doesn’t mean I’m going to just roll over and give in.’
Bella’s always been a bit of a mind reader. ‘Well, I’m pleased that you’re talking again.’
‘Bet you’re pleased you will be in your own bed tonight too, eh? Instead of on the hard ground?’ Bella’s eyes hold a twinkle of mischief.
Heck. She really is a mind reader.Rose laughs. ‘As if!’ Then she becomes serious. ‘I’m here if you need me. Just come and wake me up, yeah?’
‘I will. I’m hoping we’ve turned a corner though, Mum.’
As Rose watches her daughter walk up along the path, her way lit by little solar lights in the shape of daisies, the primroses quiver in the breeze. Rose smiles and takes the memory upstairs with her.