The Garden of Memories

Chapter 28

Rose is undecided about the ‘celebration for everything’ day, which is a bit of a bugger, because it’s today. It was Bella’s idea. She said so many wonderful things have happened recently and they should celebrate them. The wonderful things are, in no particular order: Bella and family moving to their new home last week; Josh’s job; Nigel’s job; Flora and James getting together; Louise’s work at the nursery; Bella and Hannah’s mobile café taking off; Wesley’s birthday tomorrow; and Sally’s had an offer on her house. It’s not that Rose disagrees that these things are wonderful, it’s just that she has agreed to a gig here again in the garden later, and it all feels a bit full-on.

Still, there will be many hands to the pump, and Flora has something to tell Rose, apparently. Something that can’t be told over the phone, because she wants to see Rose’s expression. It was a good job that Flora couldn’t see Rose’s expression a while ago when Tristan told her that Flora had given him Rose’s number, and generally divulged all of her business without so much as a ‘by your leave’.

Rose butters bread rolls and thinks about her resolve to tell Flora to butt out. When the opportunity arose, she couldn’t bring herself to. Flora wouldn’t have done any of it maliciously, and she guessed that Tristan probably asked for the number, rather than Flora offering it. Rose acknowledges she was upset at the time, because things to do with Tristan seem to be happening outside her control. That past and present are blurred, smudged, unclear.

Tristan has been making good use of her phone number too, messaging her regularly about this and that. The weather, the gig, the house-hunt. Nothing deep and meaningful, though, and she’s been delighted to see photos of his family. But what if? What if Tristan has feelings for her? Then she rationalises it. Let other people have their own thoughts and feelings. You can’t do anything about those. Just make sure you are in charge of your own.

Two wonderful memory plantings will be done today, which makes her very happy. Louise came up with the perfect plant for Lucy. Sea campion – a white flower that grows happily along the coast and would be best grown along the stone wall, as it prefers sandy soil. The flowers are edible too. And Tristan’s bringing the rose for Gemma. He sent a photo of her. A beautiful little girl with big blue eyes and dark curls. She was at the beach, laughing at the camera, an ice lolly in her hand. Just heartbreaking that she never got to grow up, to live her life. The rose with her name will hopefully bring some comfort, and Tristan will be able to see his precious memories reflected in its beauty.

* * *

Flora walks up the road to Rose’s with a bag of goodies for the celebration day. James is meeting her there and she’s looking forward to seeing everyone again. She’s also looking forward to seeing someone she hasn’t met yet – Lily, Josh’s grandma. Flora is not looking forward to one aspect, however, even though the aspect is of her own making. It’s something she needs to run past Rose, but she’s not sure what she’ll make of it all. Flora herself isn’t sure what she makes of it all, so how does she expect anyone else to? All she is sure of at the moment is that she needs a lighthouse. Rose has done a good job of guiding her to safe harbour in the past, and Flora hopes she’s polished her lamp today.

As she walks through the gate and up the path, she sees Rose putting some nibbles in bowls on the picnic and trestle tables. She seems to be alone, which is what Flora planned, as she’s arrived an hour before everyone else. Rose looks up, a little surprised to see an early first guest, but smiles and waves nevertheless. ‘Hi, Flora, come to lend a hand?’

‘I have indeed. But I wondered if we could have a little chat before your other helpers arrive, and everyone else, of course.’

‘Yeah, you said you had something to run by me. Let’s sit down for a few minutes.’

As soon as Flora sits opposite Rose at the picnic table, her stomach ties itself in a big knot and her tongue follows suit. She looks away from her friend’s searching eyes and finds a safe focus on the Philadelphus. Patrick’s smiling face looks back at her through the years and she climbs inside the memory of the dawn bouquet once more. That memory was full of hope, love and the giddiness of youth. Now she’s heading towards seventy-eight and incredibly, she feels something akin to that again. It hasn’t hit her like a lightning bolt the way it did when she was a girl, but instead, it’s grown strong and steady like a grapevine in a Mediterranean climate. Clearing her throat, she says:

‘Rose… I hardly know where to begin. What I have to share sounds crazy to my own ears, so I’m guessing it will to yours. It’s about James. You know he and I have become very fond of each other, and are now a little more than friends?’ Rose nods an encouraging smile. ‘Well, he … well, we … the thing is, he…’ Flora can’t say it. She’s hot and bothered and the words she wants to get out keep sliding back down her throat.

‘He’s asked you to marry him,’ Rose states.

Flora is astonished, not just because Rose has guessed, but because she sounds as if this is a perfectly okay question for a seventy-four-year-old man to ask a seventy-seven-year-old woman. She nods, mutely.

‘How absolutely wonderful!’ Rose says, clapping her hands together, an excited gleam in her eyes.

‘It is?’

‘It is!’

‘I’m not so sure.’

‘Have you not accepted?’ Rose’s smile falters.

‘I’ve said I’ll think about it.’

Rose laughs. ‘What’s there to think about?’

‘Everything! Our age, for one.’ She’s still a bit worried about this aspect, despite the talk she’s had with James recently. ‘Where we’d live for another, because I don’t want to leave my cottage. Would he get on my nerves, for another? I have never lived with anyone apart from Mother, and that was less than perfect, as you know. For another…’

‘Mother doesn’t count, as she was an old witch. The only thing that matters is that you love each other. You can work all the rest out.’ Rose fixes her with a no-nonsense stare. ‘Do you love him, Flora?’

That knocks all the wind out of her sails and she starts to drift towards the rocks. ‘I… I…’ She looks at the table top, the Philadelphus and back at her friend. After a few agonising seconds, Rose’s glare won’t let her stall any longer, and she turns her ship towards the lighthouse, pushing before it a heartfelt and honest response. ‘Yes. I know it’s madness, but I do. More than I ever thought possible.’

‘Then tell him so. Put the poor man out of his misery!’ Rose rushes round the table and gives Flora a big hug. ‘I can’t tell you how delighted I am for you both. You’re made for each other and you’ll be very happy together, I’m sure of it.’

If Flora looks past all the silly worries and excuses she’s dredged up since James proposed three days ago, she knows Rose is right. Rose is always right. Being with her here in this garden is right. She’s lifted, grounded, at peace with her decision. Maybe it’s one she always knew she’d make, but it would have taken her much longer and many sleepless nights to arrive where she is now in a matter of minutes. ‘Thanks for helping me to see the light, Rose.’

‘If I have, then it’s my pleasure.’ Rose pops a crisp into her mouth and pokes Flora in the arm. ‘Right. When’s the wedding?’

‘Well, I suppose if we’re going to do this crazy act, it will have to be sooner rather than later. We haven’t got time on our side, after all!’

‘Excellent, because I’m going to announce it later when everyone’s here.’ Flora’s about to protest until she gets a pointy finger and a cheeky wink. ‘Got you there.’

Rose tells her it goes without saying that she’ll keep this under her hat until she gets further news from Flora, though it will be hard to do so, as she’s bursting with joy about it.

As Flora takes pizzas out of the oven a little later, she finds that she’s in a similar state of bursting too. She hopes James comes soon. because she wants to give him her answer. Flora knows exactly where she wants to do it, too. The Philadelphus has helped her remember the happiest time of her past, and now it will be part of another happy time today. Flora also knows she and James will have many more to come, and she needs to remove all her obstacles, real or imagined, from her overthinking brain.

James arrives with the wrapped gift they’ve agreed to give to Weez under his arm, and he sets it carefully in Rose’s hallway. Then Flora gives him what she hopes is an enigmatic smile, takes him by the hand and leads him down the garden, past one or two others who have arrived, and are at the trestle tables helping themselves to food and a glass of wine. James is slightly disgruntled, as she’s ignoring his questions about where they’re going, and can’t he have a drink first?

Sally is under the pergola with Daisy, chatting about Sally’s house sale and where she’s planning on moving. Flora’s planning on moving both of them, because what she has to say to James is for his ears only. ‘Would you be so kind as to step out for a moment, ladies, and please keep anyone else away from this little area? I need to speak to James alone.’ Daisy gives Flora a questioning eyebrow, but slips her arm through Sally’s and they move off towards the picnic table. They have their heads together deep in conversation, and occasionally look back over their shoulders, but Flora’s satisfied they won’t be disturbed.

By the Philadelphus, Flora takes his hand and gives him an intense look. This is a momentous day and she wants to remember every second of it. The scent of the last remaining blooms gifted to them by the salt air, the warm sun on her back, the subtle fragrance of James’s cologne, the conker brown of his eyes. Those eyes which are now flitting to the other guests, the plants, her pink beaded top, anywhere but at her. When he does look at her face, she can tell he’s a little anxious, concerned even, so she decides to put him out of his misery.

‘James, you asked me a question three days ago and I have my answer.’

He tightens his grip on her hand and looks away, shakes his head. ‘You’re letting me down gently. I get it. But can we still carry on as we were? I couldn’t bear it if you ended things between…’ He tails off as she throws back her head and laughs. ‘Flora?’

‘You wonderful, gorgeous, fantastic man. I’m not letting you down. Gently or otherwise. I…’ Flora finds her voice has given up on her and she hopes the soppy smile and tears rolling down her face will tell him what she can’t.

James wipes his eyes too and whispers, ‘Are you saying yes? Yes, you’ll marry me?’

She hopes her voice has come back as she opens her mouth and yells, ‘Yes! Yes, I will!’

As they embrace, she hears a babble of voices behind and they turn to find Daisy, Sally, Rose and Weez staring at them with their hands over their mouths, their eyes alight with excitement. Rose gives her a tentative thumbs up and Flora chucks a vigorous nod back. Looking up at James, she says, ‘I know it’s all still new to us, but I’m bursting to tell people. What do you think?’

‘Yes! I want to tell the world.’ He digs an old red box out of his pocket and says, ‘But before we do, I’d like to give you this. My grandmother gave it to me – said I should give it to the love of my life. I didn’t give it to the woman I married, because as you know, she wasn’t… But you, my dear Flora, are.’ He pulls a wry expression. ‘Not sure how long I’ve got left of my life, but I know I want to spend all of it with you.’

Flora opens the box and there’s something shiny in it, but it’s a bit blurry – okay, it’s a lot blurry. Finding a tissue, her vision clears enough to reveal a sapphire and diamond ring, in the shape of a flower. ‘How absolutely perfect,’ she hears herself say.

James slips it on her finger, and amazingly it fits. ‘A flower for my beautiful Flora.’ He nods over her head at her dear friends beyond. ‘Shall we tell them now? Looks like they will collapse with curiosity if we don’t.’

As they walk hand in hand towards them, Flora feels as though she’s floating. For the first time in her life, she knows she is enough. She is a good person. She is worthy of love. I’m getting married, Mother. Yes, me, at my age. And no, it’s not absolutely preposterous, it’s absolutely bloody beautiful. Stick that where the sun don’t shine! And in that moment, Flora knows that’s the last she’ll hear of Mother. Ever.

* * *

Rose hands the trowel to Lucy. ‘Okay, you can do the honours, make sure the root is covered, but try not to disturb it too much.’ Lucy puts the little sea campion into the shallow sandy hole that Rose has made in the top of the stone wall and sprinkles gritty, sandy soil around it.

‘This is such a lovely delicate little plant, but I have a feeling it’s going to survive,’ Lucy says with a smile at Rose.

Josh places a hand on her shoulder. ‘A bit like you then, sis.’

Lucy looks up at him, and Rose can see she’s overcome with emotion.

‘Yes, it’s a survivor alright, as are you,’ Rose says. ‘Josh is right. I can’t believe how much stronger you seem, even after just a few weeks.’

‘Thanks. I think I am. I’m even going to the seal sanctuary next week to ask if I can volunteer at weekends, just to see how it goes.’

‘That’s wonderful.’ Rose smiles and points down the garden to where Flora is chatting to Lily at the picnic table. ‘They seem to be getting on well.’

Josh smiles. ‘The change in Gran is remarkable. She recognised me a few times last week and adores the flowers for her room that I take in fresh from the garden.’

‘She even recognised me the other day!’ Lucy says with a giggle. ‘I took her round the garden at the home and she’s loving what Josh is doing with it.’

‘Oh?’ Rose wonders.

‘I’m making a sensory garden. I’ve already put grasses and bamboo in, and I’ve started a pond. I had a word with the care home owners about how sound, smell and touch could help memory and bring feelings of calm and peace, and they were delighted. My parents are paying for it too, so they had no objection to anything I came up with. I’m going to plant lots of scented flowers soon – colourful ones, leave them to do their own thing, as Gran says.’

‘How absolutely wonderful,’ Rose says. ‘I bet I know which seeds you’ll be sowing come October?’

‘Sweet peas.’ Josh nods and pulls Rose into a brief hug. ‘Thanks for everything, Rose.’

She’s about to say she’s done nothing really, but they both know it’s not true and so she just smiles. Lucy hugs her too. ‘Thanks from me as well. Both for the sea campion memory and the wise words last time we spoke. I know I don’t know you that well, but I feel like I do, if you get me?’

‘I get you. Now off you both go and get some food, before it’s all disappeared.’

After they’ve gone, Rose makes sure the sea campion is secure in its new home and looks around for Tristan. There’s his Gemma to plant in a warm place not too far from Madame Agatha. She will look after Gemma and help her grow. At one time, Rose would have questioned such a thought, but not now. Now it seems perfectly reasonable to believe that some plants and flowers would help each other. She knows it’s a fact that planting flowers close together is a good idea, as they preserve their collective moisture better. So maybe Rose is right to stick to her beliefs.

She hasn’t found Tristan, but Weez has found her. Rose marvels at the difference in her as she hurries up the path towards her, a canvas under her arm. She’s wearing what look suspiciously like trainers on her feet, jeans and a casual green T-shirt. Weez is allowing her once short salt-and-pepper curls to achieve some length, and the longer hair softens her face. ‘Look what James gave me!’ she says, holding up the canvas for Rose to see, her eyes alive with excitement.

Rose looks at the fantastic painting of the jasmine that she’s admired so much. ‘Wow! That’s lovely of him.’

‘Yes. He said that now the flowers on the memory jasmine have died back, it would be nice for me to have this in my house to remember my Matthew by over the winter.’ She pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose. ‘Not that I need a reminder, but I know what he meant. It’s one of the nicest things anyone has ever given me.’

They walk along to sit on the grass next to the pond and listen to the bubbling of the waterfall and the sigh of the breeze through the grasses. ‘Tell me about your nursery work. Are you enjoying it?’

‘I adore it,’ Louise says, as though bewildered. ‘I would never have thought that I’d be working with the littlies. Me, who’s never had anything much to do with them before now.’

‘You have had the experience of our little one.’ Rose nods over to where Wesley is being a human wheelbarrow, yelling as his big sister grabs his legs and he runs forward on his hands.

‘Ah, yes. The darling Wesley.’ Then Weez’s hazel eyes catch Rose’s, the large glasses intensifying her gaze. ‘Flora, you, this garden, many of the others here today, and that sweet little ball of energy otherwise known as your grandson, brought me out of myself. You all made me realise I could trust people again – let them into my heart without the fear that they’d leave me alone once more. Apart from when my dear Matthew and I were together, this is the happiest I’ve been in a very long time.’

‘I’m so pleased, Weez.’ Rose realises she’s said ‘Weez’ out loud instead of in her head, and she grimaces. ‘Oops, sorry. Wesley started it and Flora and I carried it on.’

Weez laughs. ‘It’s grown on me, actually.’

‘Good. And I’ve decided to gracefully accept people thanking me for being a friend, or helping them, instead of saying the British thing, pleasedon’t mention it. Or, I didn’t do anything, really. But it goes two ways. Thank you for being so great with my Wesley and helping Josh. You taught him about plants, made him realise that he could go for his gardening dream.’

‘I think you had a bigger hand in that than I did.’ Weez is obviously struggling against ignoring British politeness. ‘But I’m glad I helped him, thank you for saying so.’

Flora gives her a quick hug. ‘Time for Wesley’s birthday cake soon. Would you mind taking orders for tea and coffee?’

‘It would be my pleasure.’

* * *

Right, where the devil was Tristan? At last, she spots him laughing by the gate with James and Flora, and Rose waves as he scans around and then up the incline towards her. He does the thumbs-up and comes over. ‘There you are! I was late coming down from Wales – traffic was horrendous. Then I got talking to Sally and Daisy, and after that, I stopped to have a few words with Flora and James.’ He pushes his hair back and gives her his sparkly blue-eyed smile. ‘Isn’t it brilliant news about their engagement?’

‘It really is. I couldn’t be more thrilled.’ She nods at the little pink rose shrub in his hands. ‘This is Gemma?’

He nods and becomes serious. ‘Thanks again for letting me plant this memory. Where do you think she should be?’

‘I’ve prepared a bed next to Madame Agatha Panther. She’s dropped almost all her petals, but she’s strong and will be back next year. Follow me.’

As they walk around the side of the house towards the area between the shed and the back wall, she answers his question about why she calls the agapanthus Madame Agatha. When they arrive at the spot, Tristan turns to her and says, ‘Does it sometimes make you sad when you look out of the kitchen window and see a reminder of Glen?’

Rose thinks about this for a moment. ‘Yes, sometimes. But mostly it brings me comfort. With the help of my family and friends and my newfound love of nature and tending this garden, I’ve learned to accept lots of things this spring and summer. Though I suppose some things I will never completely accept, like the loss of my Glen, who I miss every day. But I’ve definitely made peace with my retirement, and I’ve realised that the rest of my life can still be full of so many wonderful possibilities, if I want them. I just have to believe, and make them happen.’

Tristan smiles and hands her Gemma. ‘Thank you. I think she’ll be very happy here, Rose.’

Rose slips her gardening gloves on, removes the rose from the pot, and settles her into the hole she prepared earlier. ‘I know she will. And Aggie and my Glen will watch over her, help her grow.’

Tristan looks as if he’s about to say something, but instead watches in silence as she finishes planting. Then he gives her the lightest kiss on the cheek and walks away.

* * *

Rose is putting away her trowel and gardening gloves when Bella, Nigel and the children pop up behind her. ‘Hi, Mum. It’s nearly time for the cake. You ready?’

‘I am indeed. Are you ready, my little monkey?’ She bends down and showers Wesley with tickles and kisses.

He giggles, then becomes suddenly solemn. ‘You can’t say I’m little after tomorrow, Granny, ’cos I’ll be four. And four is a big boy.’

Molly huffs and shakes her head. ‘Wait until you’re nearly six, then you’ll be a big boy.’

Wesley sticks his tongue out at her and runs away. The three of them watch, laughing as she gives chase. Nigel slips his arm around his wife’s shoulders and heaves a sigh of contentment. ‘It’s so good to be back home in Cornwall. Thanks for being there for us all, Rose. And for raising such a strong, sensible woman who made me realise what’s important in life.’

Rose slips her arm through his. ‘My pleasure. Me and her dad are so proud of the woman she’s become.’ Bella’s eyes fill with tears and she flaps a hand at her mum. ‘I know you are all going to be very happy.’

‘Stop it, Mum. I’ll look like a panda if you carry on.’

‘Good job we have some bamboo over there, then, in case you get peckish.’

* * *

After the singing of happy birthday to Wesley and he’s blown out his candles, people start to gather around the pergola where the band is tuning up. Rose wishes she could drift off to her sofa, put her feet up, and stay there for the evening. She’s tired and in a can’t-be-bothered mood, as she guessed she would be after such a long day of preparing food, then non-stop socialising. She also knows it’s too late to pull out now, though, as she’d let everyone down. Just before she reaches the pergola, Flora grabs Rose’s arm and pulls her over to one side.

‘Before you sing, I wanted to say what a lovely time we’ve had. It’s been made even more special because of this.’ Flora wiggles her ring finger under Rose’s nose and looks about seventeen, rather than seventy-seven right now.

‘It’s been a lovely day. And I can’t tell you how thrilled I am for you.’ Rose gives her a huge hug and feels a powerful rush of emotion. Her life is so much richer with this extraordinary (sometimes annoying) woman in it.

Flora steps back, a wobbly smile on her lips. ‘I’m convinced it’s because of meeting you, this place, and all the right stuff in the universe aligning at the right time.’ She pulls an incredulous expression, as though surprised at her words. ‘Whatever I just said – can you explain it back to me?’

Rose chuckles. ‘Not entirely. But you’re right about this garden. Special things happen in it.’

Flora gives a vigorous nod. ‘Exactly. I mean, look at Weez.’ She gestures over to where Louise is laughing with Bella, Nigel and the children. ‘She’s hardly recognisable as the serious, shiny-shoed mouse I first met.’

‘She’s changed, that’s for sure. Bloomed.’

Flora grasps the air as if picking an imaginary flower. ‘Bloomed! That’s the word. People are like flowers. If you give them the right environment in which to grow, they bloom. And why? Because people need similar things to flowers. A bit of sunshine, a safe sheltered spot, water, food … and love. Most of all, that.’ She squeezes Rose’s hand. Then she nods towards the remaining few people up by the pergola. ‘And if I’m not mistaken, I know who would be happy to give you lots of the latter.’

Rose frowns at that and scans who’s there. Daisy, Steve, Tristan and Sally. Tristan catches them staring and gives them a cheery wave.

Rose gets the message and turns her frown back to Flora, but she’s already hurrying away before Rose can tell her to buzz off.

* * *

Considering Rose didn’t want to do the gig, she has to admit it was one of the best nights ever. Once she’d started singing, her tiredness evaporated and she let her voice carry her through. Now completely energised, she’s toying with maybe singing one more song, after she’s had a little rest. She shrugs a warm jacket on, walks along the garden path lit with solar lights and sits down on a bench near the pond with a much-needed glass of wine. After a few minutes, she has to admit that now she’s stopped, the adrenaline rush has suddenly decided to exit stage left.

Closing her eyes, she absorbs the sounds and smells of the garden. The drone of conversation and laughter, the clatter of plates, the clink of glasses and the whiff of perfume from a late rose, drifting on the ever-present salt breeze. Rose realises she finds comfort and pleasure in the smallest of things nowadays. And in the big things. It’s a big thing for her to dress up and go out on a regular basis to sing for strangers, but she’s used to singing in front of friends and family now. It’s become second nature. Though she acknowledges, a lot of it is to do with singing for herself. It lifts her spirits, makes her heart dance.

‘Falling asleep already?’

Tristan’s voice next to her ear jumps her out of her reverie. ‘No. Just thinking.’

‘Great gig, yeah?’

‘One of the best.’

‘I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, lately.’

Daisy comes over with another glass of wine for Rose and then leaves with a wink. What the hell? First Flora, now Daisy. She takes a big gulp of it and replies, ‘Really? What about?’

‘About what makes me happy. Like I said when we chatted over lunch at yours that day, I want to make the most of the time I have left. So I’m definitely going to move home here – I put my house on the market and there’s already interest. It makes me happy to be here, I feel like I’m back where I belong. I love playing with this fantastic band, to be back with my old mate Steve, Daisy too … and you, Rose. I love being with you too.’

Rose can see the joy in his face and she’s thrilled for him. She thinks she can see something else too, though. Something that gives her that unsettled feeling, the one that makes her stomach churn and her pulse race. ‘That’s great, Tristan.’ She raises her glass to him and then knocks it back. ‘Truly happy for you. Right, that’s me done. People look like they’re drifting off home now, which is good, as I’m truly shattered.’

She notes his crestfallen expression as she pats his shoulder, zips up her jacket and rushes past.

* * *

Outside her gate she waves the stragglers off and looks up. The moon’s high in the velvet-dark sky, shining them a path home along the street. Rose takes a deep breath and thinks how unusual it is that Tristan seems to have gone without saying goodbye. He was never one to go off in a huff. About to go indoors, she feels a hand on her arm.

‘Rose, can I have a minute?’

Not gone then, after all. She expected this. ‘Only a minute, Tris. I really am knackered.’

‘I feel like you’re pushing me away… Have I done something wrong?’

Has he? No. No, he’s just brought himself out of the past and muddied her future without so much as a by-your-leave. Her future that she’s only just tried on for size and found it’s the best fit she could have ever dreamed of. But then he’s not done it on purpose, has he? Tristan has no idea what she’s feeling. ‘No, not really.’ Come on Rose, be honest with him. ‘But I do feel you could be mixing up the old us with the new.’

‘Would that be so bad? We were so good together, so in love. I never forgot you… I never—’

‘Yes, but we were kids.’ Tristan looks so dejected, she almost stops, but he needs to hear this. ‘Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying what we had wasn’t special.’ She smiles at him. ‘This year I remembered that day in the woods on my sixteenth birthday, when we sang our hearts out amid the bluebells and wild garlic. Yes, we were in love and we had all our lives in front of us. It was exhilarating, exciting. When that memory came back to me, I was exhilarated all over again. I even went back to the wood and ate some wild garlic and brought some home to plant in the garden. But I went for me, Tris. To remember the girl I was. Not for us. What you’re feeling for me is the memory of us then. It’s not the reality of us now. It can’t be. Too much has changed, too many years have passed – we’re different people now.’

Tristan leans his hip against the gate and looks at his shoes. ‘So, you’re saying I shouldn’t come back?’

Is she? ‘No. No, I’m saying come back if it makes you happy. Because I do want you to be happy, Tris. But come back for you. Don’t come back for me.’

He heaves a heavy sigh. ‘Okay … but are you saying there will be absolutely no chance for us someday?’

Rose wants to go to him and give him a big hug, because he’s never looked more like that boy she first fell in love with in the wild garlic days. But she can’t, because that would undo everything. And would there ever be a chance? They look at each other for a long moment and then she says, ‘Never say never, but it’s a definite no right now.’

Tristan takes her hand, kisses the back of it. ‘Never say never? That’s enough for me. See you, Rose.’ And then with a half-smile, he turns and walks through the gate and down the road.

Rose finds her cheeks are wet and part of her wants to follow him, to tell him she’s made a mistake, but it’s a small part. Too small a part. She’s happy with her life, her family and friends, and of course her garden. She told him to do what makes him happy, and she will continue to do the same.

Rose raises a hand in a fond farewell, even though he can’t see her, and walks back up the path. She has her memories to grow and a future to tend.