Chapter 31
SEPTEMBER
And although the dying time, it is also the color time,
the time when faith in the steadfastness of Nature is surest…
The seeds all have next summer in them, some of them thousands of summers.
— JOHN MUIR
‘I had a chat with Rowan last night,’ said Leo.
They were sitting in Flora’s garden, drinking in the last of another golden day.
‘Oh yes, I wondered what you were huddled together about.’
‘He’s asked me to stay. In fact, he’s asked both of us to stay.’
Gemma frowned. ‘But aren’t we already here?’
Leo tutted in amusement, nudging her shoulder. ‘Very funny. But neither of us actually lives here, do we? My house is almost an hour away and I’m back and forth, back and forth, when really all I want to be is forth, if that makes sense. Not back…’
It was Gemma’s turn to be amused. ‘Yeah, I get it. You’d rather be here than there.’
‘I would. And I wondered… Rowan wondered, if you’d like to be here too. On a permanent basis. And if you would, then I’d very much like it to be with me…’
She stared up at him. ‘Go on…’ she said.
‘He’s offered us the farmhouse, either it or its site, anyway. What we do with it would be up to us. We could either renovate it, or tear the whole lot down and start again.’
‘With one of your houses?’
Leo paused, as if weighing something up. ‘Possibly. Which would you prefer?’
‘Which would you prefer?’
‘I asked first.’
‘You realise that’s completely unfair, making me choose like that when obviously I should pick yours.
I love your houses, Leo. I think they’re beautiful, and smart, and incredibly well designed, and I’ve loved living in one.
All those windows… all that light…’ She screwed up her face.
‘But I think I might be more of an old-fashioned kind of gal. The roses-round-the door type. The romantic chocolate-box-farmhouse type. I’m sorry…
’ She risked a look at him only to see that he was smiling, his eyes twinkling in merriment.
She gave his arm a playful push. ‘That’s really not fair, teasing me like that.
But shouldn’t you of all people want to live in one of your own houses? ’
‘Probably. But unfortunately, making those houses means I come with a whole lot of extras which all need to be stored somewhere, and the old stabling here would be perfect for that. Plus, of course, the fact that I’m more of an old-fashioned kind of guy myself.
The roses-round-the door type. And, dare I say it, the romantic chocolate-box-farmhouse type… ’
She studied him, his eyes a deep dusky blue in the evening light. ‘You are, aren’t you?’ she said. ‘Well, that settles it then.’
‘So is that a yes? To rebuilding the farmhouse? And to living here? Living with me?’
‘It’s all the yeses,’ she said, dropping her head against his shoulder. She sighed with happiness. ‘Which means this would be our back garden.’
‘It would.’
‘And I would look out on it every time I opened the curtains in the morning. Our curtains.’
‘You would.’
She thought for a moment. ‘And could we call it Flora’s Cottage?’
‘Not Edmund’s?’
She pursed her lips. ‘No… somehow, it’s Flora’s. I feel I know her better. And I think she’d like it if we were living here, taking care of the house for her, taking care of the garden. Does that make sense?’
‘It does. It makes perfect sense. It’s perfect.’
‘It’s almost as if she’s been watching over us the whole time.’
Leo smiled. ‘Then tell her to close her eyes because I’m about to kiss you.’
His lips were warm, the faint growth of stubble on his chin somewhere her fingers always strayed. ‘We should go back to the house,’ she said. ‘And tell Rowan and Willow our news.’
‘We should, but… there’s time enough for that later. Come with me a moment.’
They wandered through the garden, to sit on a warm stone bench and gaze out at the fields beyond.
The view that was so like the one from her old house, where her dad would sit at the end of each day.
She pointed to the stand of apple trees in the distance beside the hencoop, the place where she had stood on her very first day at the farm.
‘I dreamed about those apples,’ she said.
‘When the trees were bare of them and any that were left were rotting on the ground. I pictured myself on a warm autumn day picking those apples, baking them into pies and crumbles. I didn’t think I’d still be here by then, but it was perhaps the first time I realised how much I wanted to be.
And now…’ She stared up into the sky, the bright blue of the daytime slowly being replaced by the soft violet colours of dusk.
‘I never thought I would see these days, with the harvest safely gathered in, with the frenzy of work behind us and the promise of slower, more gentle days to come. It feels like a miracle, doesn’t it? ’
Leo nodded. ‘Look,’ he whispered, pointing towards the tall grasses by the garden’s edge, still golden as they caught the last of the sun’s rays.
And there were the hares, with the last of this year’s young, kept safe and sheltered as they grew, still and watchful, waiting for the moment when they, like their parents, could take to the fields under the glowing sky, and dance with pure joy.
It might be one of the last days of the year when they would see them, but the hares would always be at Thistledown. And so would they.
***
Did you love joining Gemma in the magical setting of The Twilight Garden? Meet Frankie as she opens her bakery through the night and shares hope and friendship with a side of cinnamon buns in The Midnight Bakery.
Get it here or keep reading for an exclusive extract.