Chapter Eleven
I’m up at sunrise, sketching and shading away.
While it was tiresome and stressful, spending time at the lost garden yesterday must have sparked some inspiration in me, because I’ve come up with an adorable design for Jimmy, and the host of quirky characters he happens upon throughout the story. I decided to give him a cute crop of ginger curls, a smattering of freckles across a button nose and a pair of yellow Wellington boots, to contrast and complement his famous red balloon. I’m rather pleased with my efforts, and I hope Hank at Starlight Publishing - and of course, the author - will be too. I just need to finish colouring in the illustrations and then I’ll be ready to send the drafts off for approval.
As I’m packing away my art supplies, I hear a muffled ping from inside my pocket. It’s a text message from Lucy.
Hey, are you free today? I’ve given myself the day off if you want to do something? L x
My mouth twists from side to side as I mull over the offer. If I hadn’t made excellent headway on the illustrations this morning, I’d have to decline, but since I’m nearly finished, I guess I can allow myself a day of leisure.
Sure! Where shall we meet? X
She responds almost instantly:
You know the village green? I’ll be there in ten! L x
Smiling, I slip my phone back into my jeans. This is the most social interaction I’ve had in years - what with my best mate Preet being so often unavailable due to her busy work schedule and travelling, it’s been rough going. Working from home is great for a myriad of reasons, but it can also be rather isolating. Add into the mix an uninterested husband who basically ignores you, and you’ve got a recipe for loneliness.
I’m so glad Lucy has taken me under her wing, even before we met in person, she’s always been so warm and open. I usually try to keep things courteous yet professional with clients but with Luce, that was impossible. In every call, she shared her life with me, so much so that I felt I already knew her friends and boyfriend before I even got to Lily Vale. And then, of course, I began to open up to her, spilling my true feelings about my failing marriage. When it all came to a head, it was Lucy who took me by the hand and urged me to come here, and though it was a reckless decision, I’m starting to believe it was a good one.
Lucy is nowhere in sight when I arrive at the village green, so I plop down on a bench and watch the world go by while I wait. I wonder if the garden wall stayed put in the night, Shaun did a decent job of securing it, so it should be fine. It was awful seeing the garden in such disrepair, I mean, it’s already in a dire state, but the havoc from the storm made things a whole lot worse. I haven’t felt that sick, stomach drop sensation since Nathan announced he wanted a divorce.
A little bumblebee buzzes past my ear, and I smile at the simple beauty surrounding me. Staying here has really given me a new respect and love for nature, I never thought much of the great outdoors before, but I’ve truly been enjoying getting my hands dirty in the garden. I’ve been learning a lot from Shaun too, like the names of different flower geneses and how to tell if a plant is done for or still has some life left in it. He’s quite a good teacher, when he’s not being crabby, that is.
I’ve never met someone like him before, he’s so guarded and irritatingly stone-faced, he’d be quite at home with the statues in Rosemary’s garden. And yet, sometimes I spy that twinkle in his eye, catch a glimpse of playfulness beneath the veneer, and it gets me to wondering, who is the real Shaun Henley? Deep down inside, underneath the hard outer shell …
‘Hey!’ Lucy sits down beside me, shattering my musing in an instant. ‘Sorry I’m a bit late, I had to pop into my mate Lottie’s dress shop.’
Blinking away the last of my daydream, I strive to focus on my friend. ‘No worries, I haven’t been here long.’
‘What’s up with you?’ She peers at me. ‘You’re all flushed and jittery.’
Mortified, I press a palm to my cheek, and sure enough, it’s warm and no doubt, bright pink.
‘I - I’m fine, it’s just the heat of the day.’
Lucy squints suspiciously, obviously not taken in by my weak lie. Mercifully, she decides not to press the matter - at least for now - and links her arm through mine.
‘What do you fancy doing, then?’ she asks as we amble down the narrow street two-by-two. ‘We could go grab a cake and coffee for lunch, but it’s a bit early yet. Oh, there’s a lovely charity shop next door to the haberdashers, I swear, they always have the best stuff.’
‘Lead the way, Miss Middleton!’
I do love a good potter around a charity shop, and when we step inside, I’m impressed by the unique selection of clothing and trinkets on display. Lucy wasn’t kidding, straight away I clock a handsome, one-of-a-kind solid wood side table with gilded details that wouldn’t look out of place in a high-end department store, and that’s not to mention all the clothes on offer. There’s rails and rails of ensembles for any occasion, from kooky t-shirts to elegant ballgowns and everything in between.
The shop is empty except for a young lad behind the till and a woman in her late fifties carefully examining a silver-sequinned cardigan. Lucy and I sidle beside her and search through the jumbled racks of clothing.
‘So, what’s going on then?’ Lucy turns to me as she flicks through the rail, eyebrows wiggling. ‘Met a fancy man, did you?’
‘N-no! ’ I splutter, ducking my head to my chest. ‘Of course not.’
‘Well, then what is it?’ she probes. ‘I know you’re keeping a secret, Ruth Harper!’
‘Okay, okay.’ I clear my throat and lean in, finally ready to share. ‘I’ve been working on a restoration project.’
Lucy’s animated brows shoot up toward her hairline. ‘Huh? What do you mean? You didn’t pack in illustrating and take on a brand new career in the last few weeks, did you?’
‘Nope, still doodling for a living. But I went for a walk in the Heather Hills and I discovered a garden.’
‘A … garden?’
Enthusiastically, I nod. ‘It’s a walled garden, with a little ivory gate. It’s all overgrown and the storm did some damage to it, but I’ve hired a gardener to help me clean it up. It’s sort of become my little secret.’
‘Wow, I can’t believe I didn’t know about this!’ Lucy shakes her head in disbelief. ‘Is it hard to find, or something?’
‘Well, you have to climb to the summit and tramp through the woods for a bit, but once you know the way, it’s okay. I think it belonged to an artist named Rosemary Grey, she used to live here a long time ago.’
‘Hm, can’t say I’ve ever heard of her, but then again, I’ve only lived here a few years, perhaps some of the Lily Vale natives might know more? Ooh, look at this!’ With a gasp of delight, she pulls out a stunning teal dress, close-cut with beaded spaghetti straps and gathered at the thigh. ‘Isn’t it beautiful?’
‘You should try it on, there’s a changing room over there.’
‘I think I will! I’ll be back in a jiffy.’
As Lucy swans off toward the changing room, I continue sifting through the clothes absentmindedly, not really searching for anything in particular. The woman by my side tucks a silvery-blonde hair back into her low bun and pointedly slots the cardigan she was admiring back onto the rail. She walks past me, and furtively whispers from the corner of her mouth.
‘If I were you, I’d close that garden gate and never look back.’
Not quite sure I heard correctly, I call after her. ‘Excuse me, but what did you say?’
She pauses a moment, and then glances over her shoulder. ‘Just a word of caution, love. Sometimes it’s better for everyone to just leave the past in the past.’
Then she’s gone, the bell above the door tinkling in her absence. I don’t have time to ruminate over what she meant by that, as the changing room curtain swings open and Lucy hops out. The dress looks incredible on her, the soft satin material clings to her curves and the hem falls demurely around her calves.
‘What do you think?’ she asks, holding her arms out excitedly.
‘It’s fantastic.’ I swallow hard, trying to forget the woman’s warning. ‘Are you going to get it?’
Lucy holds the slinky dress before her, tilting her head this way and that. ‘Yeah, I think I will. Not that I have any place to wear it, mind.’
Once she’s changed back into her regular jeans and jumper, the two of us make our way to the till, the dress folded carefully in Lucy’s arms.
‘Maybe Alex will take you out for a night on the town.’ I suggest as she places it on the counter. ‘Gladeswood isn’t far from here, is it? I heard they have some posh bars and restaurants there.’
Lucy snorts. ‘Chance would be a fine thing, we haven’t been on a proper date for months. I think the most romantic thing we’ve done lately is order a takeaway and wash up the dishes together.’
That sounds lovely to me. I picture Lucy and Alex at the butler’s sink in Appleseed Cottage - she washing and him drying - giggling and joshing each other as they complete the task in tandem. From what I’ve witnessed, they seem to have such a comfortable, sweet relationship, the kind where the mundane becomes fun, simply because you’re together. I’ve never felt that, even in the blissful, early days with Nathan when he was perfect and so I was, because we hadn’t known each other long enough to notice the flaws.
‘Don’t get me wrong, I love a chippy tea and Alex and I are doing great, it’s just he’s been so tired after work recently, we haven’t done anything big in ages,’ Lucy continues, swinging the shopping bag as we leave the charity shop. ‘And I’ve had something big on my mind lately.’
I stare at her. ‘What, like marriage?’
She chuckles, face flooding red. ‘Not exactly, though I honestly wouldn’t rule it out! But I do want to take things to the next level.’ She takes in a steadying breath, as if she’s about to dive headfirst into an icy pool. ‘I want him to move in with me to Appleseed Cottage.’
‘Wow, that is big.’ A frown creases my brow. ‘You guys have been together a few years now, right? And you’ve never had a conversation about living together before?’
‘We have, but it’s … complicated. Appleseed Cottage used to be my gran’s, and Alex’s house belongs to his mum. She lives in a retirement community not far from here, but the house is still in her name. I don’t think she or Alex would want to sell it, it’s their family home, but I can’t bear the thought of moving out of Appleseed Cottage, either.’
‘Right, I see the issue. But you’ll never know until you have the conversation.’
With a sigh of defeat, she shrugs. ‘I know. But it’s tough, I don’t want to make things strained between us, and we’re just fine as we are. Maybe I should just wait for him to bring it up.’
‘Hm, I suppose you could. But you’ve got every right to raise concerns or thoughts about the relationship too, you know.’
Hearing myself say that out loud, I could almost laugh. As if I ever brought up problems in my own marriage - I very quickly learned that if I did, I’d be on a fast track to a screaming argument I’d always be out-matched in. It’s easy to give advice, it’s quite another thing to follow it yourself.
*
After a lovely afternoon with my mate, I head back to the cottage. I’m utterly ravenous, despite a decadent lunch at the deli, so I shove a ready meal in the oven. While its cooking, I run upstairs to grab my journal, excited to chronicle the events of the day.
Dear Diary,
I’ve been thinking a lot about relationships. My friend Lucy has a boyfriend who adores her, and as horrible as this might be to admit, it’s hard to watch them together. It just reminds me that I’ve never had that sort of comfortable camaraderie with a man before. Even so, Lucy is still scared to bring up moving in together with him, in case it causes more issues. I can relate to that.
I’m trying to stay off social media, everyone I know seems to be getting married or engaged. I wish Preet was back in the UK, she’s the only one I know who is perpetually single, and she’s glad to be. If only I could be more like her, but the wounds of my broken marriage are still raw, and I’m grieving something I’ve never had - a happy relationship.
Even Shaun might be married, for all I know. I’ve never seen him wear a ring, but perhaps that’s because of his job, it’s probably not safe to wear jewellery of any kind. He’s never mentioned anyone before, but that’s not surprising, since he hardly mentions anything. I’ve never known such a closed-off man, but then there’s the rare occasions that I’ll see little hints of tenderness and good humour behind the wall … until he builds it back up again!
He’s infuriating!
Ugh, I better stop writing now before I get myself all worked up.
Ruth x