‘We’d help too!’ Martha cried.
‘Oh we would!’ Ada added, because it was utterly against the known laws of the universe for one of them to speak without the sentence being book-ended by agreement from the other. Nina couldn’t help but wonder how much help the sisters would be. If their gardening was anything like their baking, not very much. She couldn’t see their little back yard from hers and she’d never been out there, but Nasser’s wife, Yasmin, had told her that it was mostly filled with plastic gnomes and gnarled-up plants that the ladies refused to accept were actually dead.
‘I still don’t think you can garden at this time of the year,’ someone said. Nasser looked at him.
‘Nina has already explained it, Tully. We can clear the garden anyway for Christmas, and while we do that there’s no harm in planting bulbs for the spring.’
‘That’s assuming that the council tells us we can keep it,’ Tully said.
‘Well, yes,’ Nasser conceded.
‘We could put hardy shrubs in too,’ Nina said.
‘Yes,’ Nasser said. ‘There’s plenty we could put in that would be green all year round.’
‘I still don’t see the point,’ Ron insisted. ‘It’s a lot of money for nothing if you ask me.’
‘Oh, you’re a mean one, Ron Furnival!’ Ada scolded.
‘Rotten humbug to the core,’ Martha agreed.
‘There is no point.’
‘Only to make everyone smile.’
‘But we all know that’s an impossible task with you.’
‘Never seen you crack a smile in all my fifty years on this street,’ Martha concluded, folding her arms across her chest with an emphatic nod, which her sister mirrored.
‘I’ll smile when you two pop your clogs and give us all some peace,’ Ron said savagely, which sent another hiss of disapproval around the room, this time aimed at him rather than at any plans Nasser might have proposed.
‘There’s no need for that,’ Nasser said, looking faintly appalled. ‘We’re a community, aren’t we? What’s happened to community spirit?’
‘You can all enjoy your community spirit,’ Ron said. ‘And I’ll enjoy keeping my money for more important things than a Christmas tree.’
Robyn pursed her lips. ‘Then why are you here?’ she asked, turning to face him again with a glare that would have smelted iron.
Ron looked furious, but he also looked like someone who didn’t have an answer. The previous year Ron and his wife had left Sparrow Street for the sunshine of the Costa del Sol to retire. He’d come home three months later without her, thankful for the house that they hadn’t managed to sell while they’d been in Spain, and he’d resettled back in England. His wife hadn’t returned. Nina wasn’t sure whether they were planning to get divorced, but it certainly didn’t look as if they were a couple any longer. Ron didn’t seem particularly upset by it and neither was his wife, Yvette (so those in contact with her said), and you didn’t part without good reason, particularly when you’d gone to the trouble of moving your entire life to a new country. However, neither had divulged the reason for the split, though plenty of people on Sparrow Street agreed that if they’d been married to Ron, they’d have moved to Spain to get away from him too. The fact was, though, that no matter what had caused Ron to come home, getting used to life in England without Yvette couldn’t have been easy, and Nina wondered whether he came to these community meetings simply because he had nothing better to do. He certainly never seemed to enjoy them and she often wished he’d make life a little more pleasant for them all and just stay away.
‘I suggest,’ Robyn cut in before Ron had time to find a reply, ‘that if you’ve got nothing useful that you want to contribute, you can bugger off back to your telly at home – a place, judging by the size of you, you’re very often sitting in front of.’
Ron folded his arms and glowered at Robyn but he didn’t make a move to leave. Then Nina heard someone ask if Robyn lived on Sparrow Street, and someone else replied that they didn’t believe so, which was more the pity because Sparrow Street could have done with more people with the balls to stand up to Ron Furnival. Despite this, Nina only hoped that Robyn hadn’t ruffled too many feathers because she loved Robyn’s kind heart and dry humour, and the way she called a spade a spade, and she wanted her neighbours to do that too. They wouldn’t if they couldn’t get past her outspoken first introduction.
Perhaps Robyn was suddenly sensitive to Nina’s concerns, because when she spoke again now her tone was more conciliatory.
‘Look, I know I don’t live on the street but I do live in Wrenwick. It pisses me off to see how the council are gradually ripping the soul out of our lovely town. All they care about is money and development. Like the Sacred Heart shop that Nina and I used to work at. You know it’s been sold to a restaurant chain – I don’t know, probably going to be another burger bar or something, and of course we need another bloody burger bar. So I’m up for helping you lot if you’ll have me. A win here is another win against the erosion of our community values – right? We win here and it’s another two-fingered salute to the council leaders in their big houses on the hill who don’t have to live with what’s going on in the ordinary streets of their town.’
Ada and Martha stood up simultaneously and began to applaud. Whether they really knew what they were applauding for was another matter entirely.
‘Thank you,’ Nasser said, making a small gesture for Ada and Martha to take their seats again. ‘I’m sure everyone here appreciates your kind offer.’
‘If the people at the council thought we were doing something really useful with the space, they might be happier to let us have it?’ Tully suggested.
‘A lovely Christmas garden is good,’ Ada said.
‘Oh yes,’ Martha agreed. ‘It is good.’
‘But not terribly useful,’ Nina put in, and she glanced at Tully, who nodded. ‘I see Tully’s point,’ she continued. She looked at Robyn now. ‘I think we may have some ideas, right?’
Robyn looked confused. ‘We do?’
‘Well,’ Nina said patiently, ‘both our husbands were nursed by the Sacred Heart Hospice. And I’m sure countless others have been nursed there over the years, many dear to people gathered here. In fact, I bet everyone here has lost someone over the years in tragic circumstances. So what if, instead of spending all that money on street decorations we made it a garden of memories? We could… I don’t know, plant trees or shrubs for people we’ve lost? Or we could put out lanterns for them, light candles or something? People could come and see, and they could add their own if they wanted to and maybe make donations to various local charities?’
‘Like pay to have someone remembered?’ Nasser asked.
Nina turned to him and nodded. ‘Surely the council couldn’t veto that if we approached them with a proper plan?’
Nasser nodded thoughtfully. ‘You may be on to something there, although I’m not sure of the long-term potential.’
‘We could work on that too,’ Nina said. ‘Make some longer-term plans and present them when we present this.’
‘If we could get hold of someone at the council who’s been in the same situation they might be more sympathetic,’ Robyn said. ‘In fact, I might know someone.’
Nina gave Robyn a sharp look. If the someone she might know was who Nina thought it was, then she couldn’t imagine how that conversation would go. Still, Robyn was a grown woman and Nina could hardly stop her.
Her friend didn’t seem to notice Nina’s questioning gaze. Perhaps she wouldn’t be as bothered as Nina supposed she might be. All Nina knew was that she wouldn’t be approaching an ex-boyfriend for a favour if they’d parted in the way Robyn had parted from hers.
Nasser’s gaze ran over the small crowd seated before him. ‘Does anyone else have any thoughts on this?’
‘I like it,’ Kelly said. ‘I’d light a lantern for my gran. I don’t know about planting trees, though. We might run out of room quite early on and it would
end up looking like a very weird tiny forest.’
‘That’s true,’ Tully agreed. ‘Exactly what I was thinking. And after Christmas a little patch of trees is just begging for trouble. Kids hiding in it, causing mischief. Especially that gang of lads from Bluebird Street – little shits…’
There was some murmur of agreement before Tully continued. For the past two or three years there had been antisocial incidents and petty crimes and everyone knew who the perpetrators were, even if they couldn’t prove it. It had been pointless anyone trying to talk to the boys’ parents too, previous complaints having fallen on deaf ears.
‘With a proper open garden we can see what’s going on in there.’
‘What about the money?’ Ron spoke again for the first time since Robyn’s rebuke. ‘Do we still have to shell out for this lot?’
‘Nobody has to shell out for anything,’ Nasser said, doing his best to smooth a sour look into something more neutral. Ron was clearly getting on everyone’s nerves with his constant complaining. Robyn was right about that: if all this pained him as much as it seemed to, it was difficult to see why he’d bothered to come to the meeting at all.
‘There must be a way of doing it all between us on the cheap,’ Kelly said. ‘My brother works at a builders’ yard – I can ask him if he can help.’
‘Good plan,’ Nasser said. ‘Though perhaps just hold that thought until we get an absolute go-ahead from the council, and that will mean going to them with concrete proposals first. Nina… as it was your initial idea, would you like to take on the garden of memories and elaborate on a plan, see what you can come up with?’
‘I’d be happy to,’ Nina said and smiled. As she did, she felt Robyn’s hand close over hers and squeeze tight. They were in this together, always, and Nina’s heart swelled with the knowledge that despite the tragedies that had dogged both their lives, it was tragedy that had bound them as friends too, a friendship that was solid and real and, for Nina at least, heaven sent.
‘I’ll take a look at that with you if you like,’ Robyn said.
‘Thanks,’ Nina said.
‘So I think we’ll need teams to take charge of different aspects of the planning – we can’t expect Nina to do it all,’ Nasser said. He looked at Kelly. ‘If you’re talking to your brother at some point anyway, would you be happy to look at garden design?’
‘Of course,’ Kelly said, flushing and smiling proudly. Delicate and nervy, she was someone with an artistic flair but little confidence in it, as evidenced by the beautiful pottery made by her own hand that lined the shelves of her home, but which produced a self-conscious blush every time it was praised by a visitor. There had been rumours that she’d come to Sparrow Street seeking refuge from an abusive boyfriend, though nobody had ever seen him, and if this was true, it would explain a lot about the low profile she always tried to keep. According to Ada and Martha, there were rumours of a drink problem too, and if that was true then it was hardly surprising given the hardships she must have had to overcome. Whatever the truth, it was only over the last six months that she’d started to gain enough confidence to play a more active role in the community, and she’d started to look happier too. It was nice to see her so obviously thrilled with Nasser’s proposal.
‘Who’s going to go to the council for permission?’ someone at the back asked. ‘Are you?’
‘I’m happy to do that if everyone is happy to hand that responsibility to me,’ Nasser replied. He looked at Robyn with a grin. ‘And I think I have just the person to come with me. Didn’t you say you might have a contact?’
‘Possibly,’ Robyn said cautiously. ‘No promises, though.’
‘More importantly,’ Nasser added, giving a short nod that acknowledged Robyn’s caveat, ‘would you be up for the challenge?’
Nina had to grin too. She’d never known Robyn not to be up for a challenge – it was the main reason she’d tried so hard to persuade her friend to come to the meeting. She’d known if there was anything to be done, Robyn would want to get involved.
‘Contacts might not be cut and dried,’ Robyn said with a smile, ‘but challenges I can absolutely do!’
Chapter Four
Robyn had been excited when the meeting was over. They’d spent some time chatting with the residents who’d stayed behind for a cup of tea so that she could get to know the people she might end up working with a bit better. Nasser’s wife, Yasmin, had turned up with their three children in tow – all under the age of ten and not exactly suited to sitting through a meeting – and Robyn had made such a fuss of them all that they’d left feeling as if they’d gained a new auntie. Then they’d all been thrown out of the meeting room by an over-eighties keep-fit class that was waiting for the hall and had gone back to their own homes – apart from Robyn, who’d gone back to Nina’s for more tea and because they were both so full of enthusiasm for the project and itching to get started.
On the way it had started to rain in heavy, icy sheets, and they’d both been soaked to the bone and frozen stiff. So Nina had got the fire going and fetched fleecy blankets for them to wrap around themselves, and they were now both curled up on opposite ends of Nina’s sofa cradling mugs of hot tea while the fire burned with a satisfying roar in the grate.
‘I think Kelly’s right about the trees,’ Nina said. ‘I mean, it would be nice to have some more greenery, but it’s going to be hard to allocate one to each person we want to remember and it might just be more trouble than it’s worth.’
‘Well, if we’re putting up a Christmas tree anyway, then candles might be the way forward.’
‘Lanterns,’ Nina said. ‘Candles are too dangerous and they wouldn’t last two seconds in bad weather.’
‘Lanterns then. Suits me… Are you writing this down?’
Nina reached for the pad and pencil that had been set down on the floor beside the sofa. ‘Yes, Miss. You know, I’m almost certain there are already holly bushes there, now that I come to think about it.’
‘That might be useful. If we run out of tree, or if the tree just isn’t practical, we could perhaps hang lanterns from the bushes. Are they big?’
‘I’m not sure – we’d have to go and have a look.’
‘We ought to make a list of beneficiaries too,’ Robyn said thoughtfully. ‘Charities we can donate to with the money people pay for their dedication. Put them to people at the next meeting. It’s possible not everyone will agree with our list so we ought to let them see it before we go any further with it.’
‘I can’t see there being a big fuss about that but you’re probably right. There’s always someone who will unexpectedly disagree with something that seems perfectly reasonable to everyone else.’
‘Like that Ron character?’ Robyn raised her eyebrows. ‘Was he born with an altruism malfunction or has he just worked hard to cultivate it?’
‘He’s OK really,’ Nina said.
‘All he thinks about is money.’
‘I think he struggles a bit financially since the split with Yvette. I wonder if they put a lot of money into their move to Spain which, obviously, would have left him short.’
‘And she’s not coming back to England?’ Robyn asked.
‘It doesn’t look like it.’
‘Right…’ Robyn took a sip of her tea. ‘I can’t say I blame her. I wouldn’t come back to that great miserable lump either.’
‘That’s what everyone says. I don’t know, he can’t be that bad. I think he might be quite nice beneath it all.’
‘What’s he ever done to make you think that?’
Nina gave a vague shrug. ‘After Gray died he came round all the time to see if I needed anything. I mean, everyone did but still… I don’t suppose he had to.’
‘And did you need anything?’
‘Not usually but it was nice of him to ask, wasn’t it?’
Robyn offered a withering look. ‘If it was me, I’d rather he didn’t. I don’t know why he bothered going to the meeting when all he did was compl
ain.’
‘I know. Everyone wishes he wouldn’t turn up to them but he always does, and we sort of have to ask even though we don’t want to. I think he’s lonely to be honest.’
‘I’m not surprised – who’d want to talk to that miserable git?’
‘He is a bit miserable,’ Nina agreed.
‘A bit? Even his wife’s run away to Spain to avoid talking to him!’
‘Alright, a lot, but we’re stuck with him. I suppose at least he might be handy to have around if there’s any heavy hauling to be done in the garden.’
‘I think you’re confusing fat with muscle there.’
Nina giggled. ‘Poor Ron. He’s going to get short shrift from you, isn’t he?’ She turned her attention to the list they’d been writing. Chewing on the end of her pencil, she read down it. ‘Do you think that’s everything?’
‘I’m sure we’ll think of lots more in the days to come but it’ll do for now.’ Robyn glanced at her watch. ‘Comfy as I am here on your sofa, I really ought to be getting back to make sure Toby hasn’t blown up the house in my absence.’
‘You could have brought him along tonight, you know.’
‘Oh, he’d have loved that,’ Robyn said dryly. ‘In fact, I wish I’d known before because he was begging to come and sit in a room full of geriatrics to talk about gardens.’
Nina laughed again. ‘I suppose not. I don’t really know what kids are into but I suppose even I know it’s not that.’
‘It’s absolutely anything but that. Anyway, surely your own teenage years aren’t that far behind you that you can’t remember the days when all you thought about was stealing fags from your dad and ways to lose your virginity?’
‘My dad didn’t smoke and I don’t think I knew what my virginity was until I met Gray.’
Robyn’s eyes widened. ‘Are you kidding me? Gray was your first?’
‘First and last,’ Nina said with a rueful smile.
‘How the hell did you manage that?’
‘A helpful combination of ugliness and crippling shyness.’
The Garden on Sparrow Street: A heartwarming, uplifting Christmas romance Page 4
