The Garden on Sparrow Street: A heartwarming, uplifting Christmas romance
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Chapter Twenty-Six
Robyn looked at Nina over the rim of her cup. On the table in front of them was an unfinished pot of tea and the last of the lanterns that needed putting together and labelling, while stacked against a wall were crates containing those they’d completed, waiting to be attached to the tree.
‘You know you’re an idiot, don’t you?’ Robyn said. ‘The man was crazy about you – not to mention bloody fit – and you just send him packing? Are you mad?’
‘What else could I do?’
‘You could have put up a fight instead of getting all ridiculous and noble about it. This is real life, not some stupid romance novel.’
‘They’re a family—’ Nina began, but Robyn cut across her.
‘Who gives a shit? His wife certainly didn’t when she buggered off and left him to cope! She didn’t care that they were a family and she should be the one left out in the cold now, not you.’
‘I don’t think Polly would agree with you.’
‘She’s fifteen – what does she know?’
Nina frowned but Robyn put her drink down with a shrug and reached for a fresh card to write on.
‘I’m just saying… she thinks she wants her mum now but all the grown-ups in the room know that it’s only a matter of time before the flaky wench runs off again. And when she does it’ll be ten times worse picking up the pieces than it was the first time.’
Nina couldn’t help but wonder if there wasn’t some wisdom in what Robyn was saying. Had she done the wrong thing after all? What if giving Colm up wasn’t what he’d needed?
‘I had to let him go,’ she said wearily. ‘I had to be sure this wasn’t going to come between us sometime down the line.’
‘I don’t see how it would have done. She chose to leave, and she ought to be the one knocking at the window to get back in. All you’ve done is open it wide and leave her to get everything back without a bit of a fight.’
‘What else could I do?’
Robyn gave an impatient sigh. ‘There’s no helping you so I’m not even going to try.’
‘Come on,’ Nina said. ‘What would you have done?’
‘I wouldn’t have handed him over on a plate, that’s for sure.’
‘You left Peter when you found out his wife was still living there.’
‘That’s different and you know it. I left Peter because she’d never left their home – I hadn’t just let her back in after she’d been missing for years because she fancied another go. This woman has no right to Colm or to Polly for that matter. She left them.’
‘As far as I can tell it might not have been that straightforward. Maybe she had mental-health problems.’
‘I’m sure she did – it’s not rational behaviour – but does that mean you have to pay for that? Her mental health isn’t your fault so why should you suffer?’
‘I just thought that the last thing Colm needed was to be pressured into a choice.’
‘And so…’ Robyn looked up from the card she was attaching to a lantern and fixed Nina with a firm gaze. ‘What if he chooses her now that you’ve left him free to do whatever he likes?’
‘Then he was never mine at all,’ Nina said with more conviction than she felt.
‘Bullshit,’ Robyn said, sighing as she returned to her task. ‘What are you, a bloody Sting song? You love him, right?’
‘I don’t…’
‘Of course you do – I have eyes. You should have fought for him, tooth and nail. I would have done.’
Nina stared into the depths of her mug and pondered Robyn’s words. She wanted to believe that what she’d done was right, but what if it wasn’t? What if Robyn was right? What if she should have fought for Colm instead of stepping back? What if she’d lost him forever now because of that mistake? Maybe Jane didn’t deserve a second chance; maybe Nina had opened the door simply for Jane to hurt him and Polly all over again?
She shook away her doubts and looked up at Robyn. ‘This is fighting for him. I have to make this sacrifice. If he comes back to me we’ll be stronger, more certain for it.’
‘And if he doesn’t?’
Nina reached for a card and began to attach it to a lantern. Maybe she’d already lost him. Maybe she’d always been destined to lose him, even before they’d begun.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
It was the eve of Christmas Eve and the day they were due to unveil the memory tree. It had been trying to snow for a week now, the days cold and the nights biting, but the most they’d seen was a faint dusting, despite it being forecast. Nina wished that the high pressure would break and the snow would come, if only to warm the air a little. Even with the heating on her house was draughty, and as she still had no job, it seemed prudent to try to save some money and not to run it constantly. This meant that when it was off she was bundled in layer upon layer of fleece and knitwear. In some ways it was a good thing that Colm hadn’t been to see her since she’d sent him away to sort things with Jane, because it was hardly a sexy look.
She couldn’t deny, though, that his absence weighed heavily on her. It seemed to leach the colour from everything, even though she stood by her decision. He’d phoned once to try and talk to her again about what she’d said and about what might happen, but she’d told him it was pointless because she’d made up her mind and she was convinced that it was the only sensible way forward. Perhaps he’d seen it as some kind of rejection, or perhaps things really were as complicated as she’d feared after all. Perhaps even now, despite what he’d told her, he was trying to rebuild his life with Jane.
She’d been tempted to call him many times since that last phone conversation but she’d decided against it every time. Phoning him would only confuse things for all of them, she was sure of that, but she still had to admit that she missed him terribly. At least she had the memory tree to keep her occupied and she’d thrown herself into the planning and preparation with new vigour, determined that everything would be perfect. Thus, the garden was now immaculate, with neat borders, spotless paths, weed-free beds and a new stone birdbath that had been gifted to them by the local rotary club. The bird feeders and boxes and the insect hotel were in place again, and the rope swing had been restored. A little water feature gurgled in a quiet corner mimicking a mountain stream, with a set of benches close enough to sit and listen on a warm day. It had been Colm’s suggestion and it remained one of Nina’s favourite features of the garden, despite everything that had happened since. And then there was their special tree, tall and strong and thick with pine needles.
Sammy Star had been booked to help the celebrations along and the local vicar had agreed to attend to make the opening official. The church choir and freelance caterers were on hand, while Ada, Martha and Kelly were all making mince pies and mulled wine. Nina could only hope that Kelly’s influence on the twins would be enough to turn out some decent baking this time, although she was slightly concerned that Kelly might also drink all the wine before they’d even got it to the garden. Nina and Robyn had been busy dressing the tree and directing operations while all this had been going on. Come hell or high water, everything was going to be perfect – they’d worked too long and too hard to let anything happen to ruin that.
It was hard to predict how many people would attend, but Nina had asked around during the previous days and, from what people had told her, she’d guessed at a few hundred. What they might spend on additional fundraising events like the tombola, raffle and collection tins would be added to the money they’d already raised from donations for the tree dedications and would make a nice pot of cash for the charities everyone had agreed would benefit. If nothing else made Nina happy right now, at least that did.
The preparations had not been without hiccups, though. The candles they’d planned to use inside the lanterns had proved to be impractical and unreliable, forcing Nina to make a last-minute dash to the wholesalers to purchase a whole mound of battery-powered lights that looked like candles. As she hadn’t wanted to take the fu
nds from the money they’d raised for charity so far, she’d ended up footing the bill herself. At least they’d been cheap, sold to her at cost by a friend of Sammy, who was proving to be very useful when it came to friends and acquaintances – although some introductions, she reflected with more than a little irony, had given her more than she’d bargained for.
And then there had been the small matter of Nina’s aversion to the limelight. The last thing she wanted to do was get up to make a speech about the tree, to announce it in any way, to tell the story of how it came to be, or anything that involved the crowd looking directly at her. Sammy, who loved all of this, came to her rescue once again and agreed to host the evening in its entirety. He’d offer a brief nod to Nina and Robyn, who’d happily lurk in the shadows ensuring everything was running smoothly and mingling in the crowd to offer personal thanks to people for their support. In fact, there’d been plenty of that already and there were a lot of people to thank. Many of Nina’s neighbours had been in the garden with Nina and Robyn since the early morning helping with the preparations, not to mention the people who were making contributions from their homes. No matter Nina’s emotions, she only had to think of that to feel lucky to be part of such a caring community.
It was mid-afternoon now, and the light was already beginning to fail. They’d done much of what they needed to do, however, and though they were tired already, the gathering dusk turning the skies saffron and peach over the rooftops was pretty enough to lift the lowest of spirits.
Nasser flicked a switch and the fairy lights he’d strung beneath the eaves of the potting shed burst into life. It was amazing how something as simple as a string of lights could transform the dullest construction into something magical.
‘OK?’ he asked Robyn, who was standing with her hands on her hips, looking on.
‘Perfect,’ she replied.
‘You want some anywhere else? I’ve got three sets going spare.’
Nina had been attaching the winning raffle numbers to some prizes on an old decorating table Ron had put together for her. Having just finished, she wandered over to see what else still needed to be done, catching the tail end of the exchange. ‘How about those crab apple trees?’
‘Yes, they’ll look nice there,’ Robyn agreed.
‘No problem.’ Nasser picked up the box containing the remaining sets of lights and strode over to the trees at the far side of the garden.
‘Ron’s got the ladder if you need it!’ Nina called after him.
‘It’s looking pretty good, isn’t it?’ Robyn said, turning to Nina. ‘It’s a shame the man who did most of the landscaping work won’t be here to see it tonight.’
‘Don’t…’ Nina warned her.
‘So… no word from him?’
Nina shook her head.
‘Looks like the ex got her man back then—’
‘Please,’ Nina said. ‘I don’t want to talk about it – especially not now. I’ve got too much else going on.’
Robyn looked like she was itching to say something more on the matter, but then she reached into her pocket and pulled out a roll of sticky tape.
‘This was left over from setting up the pin the tail on the donkey,’ she said. ‘Need it?’
Nina took it from her and stashed it into a cloth bag full of odds and ends she was wearing on her shoulder.
‘At least Ron looks happy today,’ Robyn said airily.
‘I must admit he does seem surprisingly cheery today. Didn’t need to be asked twice about helping here and didn’t complain at all…’
She looked at Ron now, whistling tunelessly as he held the ladder for Nasser, and it was hard to deny that he had a spring in his step. She wondered what it could be. Whatever it was, even the street’s biggest gossips Ada and Martha didn’t seem to know, though everyone had noticed a change.
Robyn clicked her fingers in front of Nina’s face. ‘Wakey wakey. We’ve still got plenty to do.’
‘Sorry,’ Nina said, shaking herself.
‘Seriously, though,’ Robyn asked. ‘You’re alright? I know it’s been a tough few days…’
‘I’m fine.’ Nina forced a smile. ‘It’s not like I was with him for years, was it?’
‘New love is sometimes the worst to get over,’ Robyn said. ‘That’s when it’s all fresh and potent, when you absolutely can’t breathe without them.’
‘Yeah, well…’ Nina hitched her bag onto her shoulder. ‘I’ll just have to get air tanks, won’t I, because it doesn’t look like he’s coming back anytime soon.’
An hour before the tree ceremony was due to begin the garden was filling up nicely. Nina was happy to see people crowding at the stalls, trying their luck at the tombola and raffles, having a whack at the piñata, buying mulled wine and mince pies. (Knowing who’d baked them, Nina had been forced to sample one, just to ensure that they were fit for human consumption, and they’d actually turned out to be surprisingly good.) She was busy helping set up the stage for Sammy when she heard a greeting and looked up to see her dad, hand in hand with Pam. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him hand in hand with anyone – not even her mum, who’d never really been one for public displays of affection – and he looked as happy as he always did whenever Pam was with him. At least that thought was enough to lift her own depressed spirits. While she’d been busy, she’d been able to pull her focus from the ache of missing Colm, but it had still been there in the background.
‘Want some help with that?’ Winston asked.
‘Oh, you could just plug that in for me over there,’ she said with a broad smile.
‘Lucky the weather’s holding for you,’ he said, taking the plug from her. ‘I don’t think rain or snow would have done much for your electrics here.’
‘I’m keeping my fingers crossed; a couple of hours is all I need. The forecast says it won’t snow until tomorrow but you can never trust it. I’m trying not to think about the electrics exploding.’
‘I’m sure Sammy’s holding his breath too.’
‘Probably,’ Nina said with a quick grin.
‘So, how have you been, love?’ he asked. ‘Since… you know.’
‘Oh, not too bad.’ Nina tried to keep her tone light. She’d had to tell her dad about Colm and Jane in the end but she didn’t want him to worry. ‘Honestly, I’ve been too busy to give it more than a second of thought.’
‘You’ve certainly done a wonderful job here,’ Pam said, sending an admiring glance around the fairy-lit garden. Nina looked too. She’d been so busy concentrating on one task or another that she hadn’t really seen the whole picture, but now that she stopped to look, she couldn’t help but agree. There were shining, glittering baubles hanging from bare trees, reflecting the lights that were dotted like fireflies all around; bells that swayed from branches and rang to sound like sleigh bells when the wind took them; covered stalls dressed in rich reds and velvet greens, the cinnamon-spiced aromas of festive treats drifting from them. And in the middle of it all was the lush fir, their memory tree, decked in satin bows and tagged lanterns, every one a beautiful reminder of a soul gone but never forgotten.
‘I had plenty of help,’ Nina said, pride swelling in her. ‘It wasn’t that bad in the end. Thanks for all that you and Dad did too, by the way. It was good of you to help.’
Pam waved away the comment. ‘It was nothing; happy to help for such a good cause.’
Nina looked up as she saw Robyn making her way over to join them.
‘Alright there, Winston… Pam?’ she asked. ‘How’s it going? How’s Toby been this week? I’d ask him myself but I barely get a grunt from him these days.’
‘Oh, he’s a lovely boy,’ Pam cut in. ‘Always so polite. You’ve done a good job there.’
Robyn laughed. ‘Are you sure that’s Toby?’
‘Oh, he’s as good as gold,’ Winston said. ‘And he picks things up so fast. I show him once and he’s got it, just like that. He’ll make a cracking mechanic if that’s what he fancies d
oing in the future.’
Nina’s attention was drawn away by Ron, who was sauntering over, hands in his pockets and looking casual, but very deliberately heading their way. As usual, he was alone, preferring to keep a distance from everyone on Sparrow Street, but – also as usual – it didn’t seem to bother him.
‘I’ve finished up,’ he said. ‘Unless there’s anything else you need me to do?’
Nina shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. Feel free to enjoy the festivities. There’s mince pies and mulled wine over by the crab apple trees.’
‘I’ve already had a few,’ Ron said, and Nina – knowing him well enough – guessed that his few would be more like twenty or so. The threat of Ada and Martha’s baking did nothing to put him off and he seemed quite impervious to its effects. He scratched at the bristles on his head and looked suddenly awkward. ‘I heard about that gardener fella,’ he said. ‘His wife came back… Is that right?’
‘Yes,’ Nina said stiffly. ‘She did.’
‘So you and him…?’
‘Not for the moment, no.’
‘Right…’ Ron’s hands dug into his pockets. ‘Sorry to hear that.’
‘It’s OK; these things happen.’
‘They do,’ Ron said. ‘If you need anything… well, I don’t know much about it but I can listen as well as anyone else. And for the record, I think he’s made a mistake. He’s let a good woman go leaving you for her—’
‘He didn’t leave me for her,’ Nina said. ‘It wasn’t quite like that…’
She let out a sigh. What was the point of trying to explain how it had happened? What did it matter what people thought? None of that changed the facts.
‘I saw him, you know,’ he said. ‘Out with his daughter and her. Didn’t know who she was at the time, of course. Thought it was a bit fishy, though.’
‘When was this?’ Nina asked, unable to help herself. Had Colm looked happy, she wanted to know – had they looked like a family? But how could she ask these things when she wasn’t sure what the answer would do to her? Now, with all this going on around her, was most certainly not the time.