Chapter 21 #2
‘Over the last few years, I suppose. I was having a big declutter at home and found loads of stuff I didn’t really need.
Things I had two or three of from when I’d bought them on bundle deals and then forgotten about so bought more.
I’d been reading about no-buy and low-buy years so I thought I’d give that a go to give me a chance to whittle down some of these extra supplies.
Freddy did it along with me so we could support and more importantly, not tempt each other. ’
‘No buy seems pretty extreme.’
‘I know. I kind of admire people who can be that hardcore.’
‘What do they do about food?’
‘You’re allowed to buy necessities but that’s it.’
‘So, you two did what? A low buy?’
‘Yes. We allowed ourselves certain treats like a pizza delivery once a month, and obviously, Freddy would need art supplies, etc. If your knickers wore out, you were allowed to buy those. That sort of thing.’
‘Phew.’
‘Funny. I’m not going to continue if you’re going to make fun.’ I stuck my nose in the air for good measure.
He caught my elbow. ‘I’m not, I promise. Carry on, I’m interested.’
I made of show of thinking about it but Edward gave me a patient look, underlined with a smirk.
‘Fine. As you asked nicely.’ I threw him a mischievous glance and continued.
‘So, we both started the low-buy year on the first of the next month and actually really enjoyed it. It made us think twice about those things you buy without too much consideration, click-throughs from social media, that kind of thing. Especially the 3 a.m. kind when you can’t sleep. ’
‘Oh yes. Been there. They always seem such a great idea at the time, don’t they?’
‘They do!’ I said emphatically, pleased that Edward got it.
‘And how did it go?’
‘It went great. We both did it the following year too. We decluttered what we didn’t want, used up stocks of things we had already and because we could see what we actually owned, didn’t end up wasting money on things we already had.’
‘But?’
‘But…’ I looked up at him. ‘It highlighted something that had been niggling away quietly in my mind for a while.’
‘That the philosophy you were living by was at odds with what your job called for.’
‘Exactly! And every day that went past, the more it rankled. Especially when we’d win a contract for something that seemed completely pointless in my eyes, or was something that could easily have been made reusable but was instead a one or two use item, causing literally tonnes of rubbish to go to landfill.
When I tried to pitch for smaller, more ethical brands, the company wasn’t interested.
Their budgets weren’t big enough or the demand wasn’t there.
Perhaps the first was understandable but I didn’t believe the second.
That sort of business needs all the exposure they can get.
Often, people use more wasteful products because they don’t know there’s an alternative. ’
‘Could you have gone to another marketing firm that was more in line with your own ethics?’
I sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. ‘I could have, yeah. And I’d have had real references to get me in the door with them.’ I threw him a smile which he caught and returned. ‘You’re right; I was good at my job. The trouble was I no longer felt that my job was good for me.’
‘Tricky situation. And that’s when you came up with the scheme of starting here?’
‘No. That took me making the mistake of telling my company about my doubts. There followed a sudden realisation that they were overstaffed and a redundancy required. On the way home, I had a slip on some ice and my ironically named gardening leave became broken-ankle leave and that’s when all this began to manifest itself. ’
‘Ouch!’
‘It was a bit. Although in a way, I’m not sure I’d have ever ended up here if it hadn’t been for all that.
I was bored out of my mind one evening and, as you observed earlier, I can get quite fidgety.
Freddy was home in Ireland for the weekend.
She’d asked me to go with her but I just couldn’t be arsed with the faff of going through the airport and on to the plane with crutches. ’
‘That’s understandable,’ Edward said, holding out his hand for me to take as we climbed over another stile. I did so without thinking. It felt natural, normal, as we walked along chatting.
‘Somehow, I ended up on the website for The Lady magazine. Don’t ask me how. I fell down a lot of rabbit holes during that time that may or may not have been helped by wine.’
‘I think I remember my grandmother taking that magazine. It’s not in print any more?’
‘No, I don’t think so. Like so many magazines, it’s gone digital these days.’
‘I like a paper magazine – something tangible.’
‘Me too!’ I replied, oddly shocked that we had something in common. ‘Anyway, I was just pootling about on the site, reading this, looking at that and landed on the job adverts.’
‘I didn’t know Barney had even put it in there. I guess he must have remembered our grandmother hiring people through it too.’
‘Maybe. I doubt I would have even thought about it if it hadn’t been for that. I might have done what you said and changed agencies, gone to work for a company that was more interested in what it helped sell rather than the bottom line.’
‘I suppose most companies main interest really is the bottom line.’
‘That’s true, but you know what I mean. Not just boosting that at all costs.’
‘I do and you’re exactly right. But,’ he prompted me, ‘now there was the advert for the under-gardener job in front of you. Did you apply straight away?’
‘God, no. I thought about how lovely it would be for a few moments, saw that it came with lodging back in the county I was born in, nearer my dad. It all sounded great.’
‘Except?’
‘Except I had no formal training. Yes, I’d spent hours in my grandparents’ gardens when I’d go to stay with them for summers.
Dad would come when he could and Mum would stay for a week or so but she hated to leave Dad as much as she hated to leave me.
I loved my time there. It was the place I most felt at home.
It was the one place that never changed, that remained familiar when we’d had to up sticks yet again. ’
‘And that’s where you learnt to garden?’
‘Yes. My dad was very keen on it too but he didn’t get the opportunity to have his own plot until he left the forces.
My grandparents grew everything they could.
Grandad was in charge of the veggies and Gran grew the most beautiful flowers of all kinds.
Some I’d never heard of or seen anywhere and then she’d create stunning displays in the house.
She’d do the odd wedding too, for friends, but her main drive was to make the garden and the house beautiful.
Both of them loved cooking, which was still a bit unusual for a man at the time, so I ate extremely well when I stayed with them. ’
‘Have you ever had your own garden?’
I shook my head as we walked along. ‘No. We had a couple of small pots on the balcony but that was it.’
‘You didn’t consider taking horticulture as a path when you were younger?’
‘No. I don’t think I really thought of it as a possible career choice then.
I don’t know why as I would have loved it.
Loved to have actually gone to Kew.’ I looked up under my lashes and met Edward’s good-natured smile.
‘Working in advertising was never a grand plan. It was something I sort of fell into.’
‘I think that’s true for a lot of people.’
‘I think you’re right. So then I worked at it, got promoted and then you’re on the treadmill, aren’t you? It’s hard to throw it all up and start again. It’s hard not to think if I completely change direction now, have all those years I’ve spent doing something else been a waste of time?’
‘Is that how you felt?’
‘In a way. But now there was a tiny, teeny kernel of an idea.’
‘And how did that tiny, teeny kernel end up bringing you here?’
‘Well, that was partly down to Freddy. I told her about the advert I’d seen, just in passing when she got back and, I don’t know why, but she encouraged me to apply for it. I told her I couldn’t. You, quite rightly, wanted experience and I didn’t have that.’
‘Which is where the fictitious Kew Garden degree came in.’
‘Yes.’ I looked up at him. ‘I am sorry about that. Looking back now, I can’t believe I went ahead with it.
I was so caught up in the thought of it, that this could actually be a possibility, I stopped thinking clearly.
As you said earlier, I am, when in my right mind, eminently practical, and pretending I’d studied for this was ridiculous and a downright lie. ’
Edward laid a hand on my shoulder. ‘You’re being too hard on yourself.
OK, the Kew thing wasn’t true but you can’t say you didn’t study.
From what I’ve heard, you had two of the greatest teachers and I know from both your interview with Barney and from your hallway bookcase, you love to curl up with a good gardening book. ’
I gave him a sideways look. ‘Who’s to say I didn’t just buy those to make it look like I knew what I was doing?’
‘Because I don’t think that’s your style. You took a leap in applying for this job but I don’t think you’d continue the lie if your heart wasn’t in it.’
Edward had me spot on. A cup of tea and the chance to stick my nose in one of my favourite gardening books or, joy of joys, treat myself to a new one was extremely high on my best-days-ever list.
We’d arrived at the bank of a river. It was low but still moving fast enough to trickle and swish over the rocks in its path, the sound soothing and cooling in the warmth of the day.
Edward lowered himself to the ground, his booted toes towards the river, and I followed as he slipped off the rucksack once more and this time pulled a flask from within.
‘Tea?’
‘Perfect.’
‘Cheers.’ He tapped the metal cup against mine, making a faint clang before we both took a sip.
‘As much as I’m sorry you were unhappy in your job, suffered an accident and had rather a miserable time of it all, I’m glad of it in as much as it led you here.’
I waited. For a moment, it looked as though Edward was going to say something else but when nothing else was forthcoming, I thanked him and agreed.
We spent a while in companionable silence, absorbing the sounds around us: songbirds building nests in the nearby hedgerows, a v-tailed kite high in the sky, its sharp call occasionally drifting down from where it soared on thermals above us, and the glittering water bubbling and skittering past below our feet.
‘I suppose we’d better be getting back.’ Edward’s voice broke the reverie.
‘Oh. Yes, I suppose we had.’ It hadn’t occurred to me that he might have plans this evening.
I could have sat there all day, absorbing the peace, enjoying the quiet.
I pushed myself up into a standing position and gave my bum a brush off for any loose bits of grass.
‘Thanks for today. It’s been really great. ’
‘I’m glad you’ve enjoyed it. I have too. Do feel free to roam wherever you like on the estate. Nowhere is out of bounds.’
‘I might never be seen again.’
‘If you get lost, call me.’
‘Scout’s honour,’ I said, and did a vague impression of what I thought a Scout’s salute might look like, never having been one.
We headed back towards the bluebell wood, at my request, and had become engrossed in a conversation about, of all things, whether different colour carrots tasted different and if they did, was it psychological because they weren’t orange?
As we crossed into the next field, I glanced round and gave a shriek of surprise.
In front of me was a man carrying a hiking pole, wearing a brimmed hat, stout walking boots with thick, bright-red walking socks and nothing else.