Chapter 17 #2
Back then, there were many things we didn’t know. As we made up for lost time, we simply filled our hearts, assuaged the ache the three of us shared for life and laughter. Love.
‘We can do this again,’ I told you both the night before we left. ‘Life is different now.’ In a week, your hair had turned a salty shade of blonde, and Ollie’s skin was honey brown. We felt different, too, as though this place, the sea, was helping to heal us.
I imagined us leaving the past here, laying it on the sand, three lumpy shadows side by side, watching as the tide encroached and washed over them as they melted away under the waves.
If only it could have been that simple. If a holiday, a safe home, could have unshackled you both from the past. On the surface, we were different. But I was unaware that there were many, invisible elements of our lives that went deeper, that were going to be far harder to change.
* * *
After we got back, in no time, wedding season was in full swing as Lucy and I increasingly struggled to fulfil our demand for flowers that suited our ethos.
‘There aren’t enough suppliers local to us – and my garden is too small. We need to grow more of our own flowers.’ We just needed to find the right place.
‘Do we have time?’ Lucy said. ‘We’re already busy.’
‘We should keep it in mind,’ I said. ‘If the right place comes up, we should definitely think about it.’
For a while, I thought no more of it. Lucy was right: life was busy enough, getting you and Ollie off to school and sixth form college, tending the garden I already had.
Until a Friday morning when Lucy and I were working on some wedding flowers.
The door to the workshop opened and a woman walked in.
She was beautifully dressed in pale blue, and I guessed her to be in her late seventies.
Taking her time, she perused the buckets of flowers, before picking out a bouquet.
‘Good morning,’ she said. ‘I can’t believe I haven’t been here before.
I must say, it really is rather lovely.’ Up close, her eyes were a piercing pale blue, as I realised she was probably older than I’d thought.
‘May I have these?’ She placed the bouquet on the workbench, then studied the flower arrangements we were working on.
‘They’re for a wedding,’ Lucy said. ‘We mostly try to source local, seasonal flowers, the problem being there just aren’t enough of them.’
‘It makes such a difference.’ She looked thoughtful. ‘Have you thought about growing your own?’
‘I grow some of them at home. But really, we need a bigger space,’ I said.
A small smile played on her lips. ‘In that case, I think I might be able to help you.’ She paid for her bouquet. ‘Leave it with me for a few days. I’ll be in touch.’
As she left, I frowned at Lucy. ‘Do you think she was serious?’
Lucy shrugged. ‘I haven’t a clue. But I’m guessing if she comes back, we’ll find out.’
It wasn’t until the following week when the woman came back. Mary, as she told us her name was, invited us to visit her at home.
‘I have this rather lovely old garden,’ she said. ‘No one uses it any more – and it’s far too much for me to look after. But if you don’t mind it being rather neglected…’ She paused. ‘You’re welcome to come and take a look.’
I had to admit to having misgivings about the amount of work we’d be taking on. But the following Monday afternoon, Lucy and I went over to Mary’s house. It was a short drive from our workshop and when we pulled up outside, the pair of us were awestruck.
‘I wasn’t expecting this.’ Lucy stared at the lovely old house. ‘Look at the roses.’ The exposed stone exterior was festooned with pale pink blooms.
‘Come on.’ Getting out, I walked towards the front door, struck by the sense of peace I could feel.
Clearly watching out for us, Mary opened the door before we reached it. ‘Welcome,’ she said. ‘How nice to see you both.’ Her eyes were sparkling.
‘This is gorgeous, Mary,’ I said. ‘Those roses are stunning.’
‘Thank you. I planted them myself – it must have been over fifty years ago.’ She smiled, almost secretively. ‘Shall I take you to see the garden?’
As she led us across the lawn, I took in the mature trees and sprawling shrubs, starting to get a sense of how the gardens must have looked once. Reaching a door in a wall, she pushed it open. I stepped inside and looked around, completely awestruck.
‘This is stunning.’ I couldn’t stop staring. The gravel paths needed weeding, as did the borders, but it had clearly been a well-stocked, much-loved garden at some point. I glanced at my friend. ‘It’s perfect, Luce.’
‘You don’t think it will be too much work?’ Mary said doubtfully.
‘Edie loves gardening,’ Lucy said. ‘Don’t you?’
I turned to Mary. ‘I love this garden. If you’re sure about this, I think it’s perfect for us.’
It was perfect for Mary, too. It clearly saddened her to see the garden neglected and she was happy to hand over its care. ‘I don’t want any money,’ she said. ‘It’s upset me to see this go to rack and ruin. But I do love flowers. Just bring me some, when you have any spare.’
Life was about to get a whole lot busier, because it was a no-brainer as far as I was concerned.
The walled garden needed a huge amount of work, but as we’d already seen, there were treasures to unearth, plants to bring back to life.
With the lull in weddings that autumn typically brought with it, I started work on the weekends I was there, you and Ollie sometimes coming to help, drawn by the allure of Mary’s homemade cakes.
If there was a cloud on the horizon, it was only now and then, when I’d catch myself watching you. Something seemed different in you that I couldn’t put my finger on.
It was around this time, the autumn of your sixteenth year, when you started spending more time at the animal shelter. ‘There aren’t enough staff to care for the animals, Mum. They need me.’ You felt responsible.
‘I understand, but you have your exams to think about, Lex. A few months, and they’ll be behind you.’
But you were already steering your own course.
You’d discovered a bus that ran from close to school to half a mile from the animal shelter.
And that’s where you were to be found, most evenings, caring for a sick pony or dog, cleaning out the stables there were never enough of.
One evening I went to pick you up, you were nowhere to be seen.
I found you eventually, curled up asleep in a haybarn, next to a poorly calf that had cuddled against you.
‘Lex?’ I gently woke you.
You opened your eyes with a start, blinking at me as you realised where you were. ‘Mum?’
‘Don’t you think it’s time to go home?’ I said quietly.
You turned to the calf. ‘I can’t leave him,’ you said. ‘He’s really sick.’
‘You can’t stay, Lexie,’ I said. ‘It’s getting late – and you’re exhausted.’ I took off my jacket and spread it over the calf; when it didn’t move, wondered how long it had left in this world.
You lingered, then so gently stroked its head with your fingers before leaning down and kissed it. There was such tenderness in your touch, such love. But I think you knew, too, that even if you had stayed, there wasn’t anything more you could do.
As we drove home, you were preoccupied, I assumed about the calf. When we went inside, I saw how cold you still were. ‘Why don’t you run a bath?’ I suggested. ‘I’ll put supper on.’
An hour later, the three of us were sitting at the kitchen table.
‘I’ve been thinking about uni courses today,’ Ollie said. ‘I’ve been reading online about Environmental Science degrees.’ He went on explaining the diversity of subjects it encompassed.
You turned to look at Ollie. ‘That’s really cool, Oll.’
‘I think so.’ Ollie looked at me, slightly anxiously. ‘I think I might apply, Mum.’
‘It sounds like a brilliant course.’ I smiled at him. It’s what I wanted for him, even though I knew how much I’d miss him.
When you were quiet, I wondered if you were thinking about the calf. After going to bed, I lay awake that night. Of course I wanted you both to go off and live your lives – at some point. The trouble was, that time was arriving fast and a small, selfish part of me wasn’t ready.
I tried to imagine how life would be when Ollie moved out, then you.
Something told me you wouldn’t be far behind him.
Slowly this new reality became absorbed into my everyday, one that was already expanding to encompass trips to check out uni courses for Ollie, evening runs to the animal shelter to collect you.
Of course I was proud of you both. Of your drive, your dedication to hard work.
But I worried about you, Lexie. It was as though you were changing before my eyes.
In the end, I put it down to you growing older.
You weren’t a little girl any more. And you were already going after what was important in your life.