A Dash Of Pepper

by Sam Short

  "Yes, Mary. It's beautiful," said Agnes, pouring herself a second cup of tea.

  "I know you like it, Agnes," said Mary. "You like everything I bake! I was wondering what the newest member of the club thought of it. We haven't had a new member join the club since I joined — I think it's nice to get her opinion."

  Agnes rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I'm sure that when Miss Grinder has eaten the last of her cake and sipped the last of her tea, she'll be gone. I don't think she came here to join our club, Mary." She gave pepper a thin smile. "I'm not sure that she even enjoys gardening or plants."

  Now that was a statement that Pepper could quite easily refute. She sat back in her chair and stared at Agnes while using her tongue to capture a rogue crumb at the edge of her mouth. She reached across the table and touched one of the long wilting leaves that hung from the stem of the potted plant alongside Agnes's elbow.

  As soon as Pepper's fingers grazed the dying plant, she knew precisely what it needed. She’d known precisely what it had needed as soon as she'd sat down at the table. She'd heard the weak vibes and had intended to tell Agnes exactly what actions were required to save the plant.

  This way was better, though. This way she could save the plant, and rub Agnes's nose in the fact that although Pepper may not have looked or dressed like everybody else in the room, she certainly belonged in a group of people who enjoyed plants. If she’d wanted to be a member of that group.

  Pepper frowned as she picked up on the weak energy which the plant gave off. "It's a lily, isn't it?" she said.

  "I think that would be quite obvious to somebody who enjoys plants," said Agnes. "Of course it's a lily. It's a peace lily. It was a gift, and I've only had it for a year. It shouldn't be dying already."

  "No," said Pepper, running a finger along another of the wilting leaves. "It shouldn't, but I can tell you how to make it flourish again."

  "You can?" said Geoffrey, his legs stretched out in front of him, and his arms crossed. "I'd be interested in hearing your ideas. I suggested that the plant is getting a little too much light, and maybe too much water. What are your thoughts, Miss Grinder?"

  Pepper smiled. "Call me Pepper, please." She looked around the table, leaving Agnes until last. "That goes for all of you."

  “Pepper it is then,” said Winston.

  Making a show of inspecting the plant one more time, Pepper looked at Geoffrey. "You're right about the light," she said. "This plant doesn't like direct sunlight on its leaves. It likes to be in a bright place, but not where the sun can beat down on it. When it comes to water, it's not the quantity that's the problem here, it's the quality."

  "The quality?" said Agnes. "What on earth are you talking about, Miss Grinder? I give it the same water, which comes from the same tap, which I’ve given to all my plants over the thirty years I've lived in my house. It's Derbyshire tap water, Miss grinder — it's clean and safe, how could it possibly be a problem for my peace lily?"

  "Could I suggest either purchasing a water filter or using bottled spring water for this particular plant?" asked Pepper. "This plant is very sensitive to chlorine. It doesn't like it."

  "You mean peace lilies in general, Pepper?" asked Winston, pushing a short pruning knife towards the edge of the table. "Not just this one in particular."

  "I can only speak for this plant," said Pepper. "And this plant doesn't like chlorine. My suggestion to you, Agnes, is to repot it — it's not happy in the soil it’s sitting in — it's full of chlorine. Then, when it's been repotted, move it to a windowsill with a little less direct sunlight, and only water it with filtered water or spring water." She looked around the table again. "Might I suggest that you all try filtered water? Not just for your houseplants, but for yourselves, too. Who knows what chemicals are in the water that comes from our taps?"

  "You do sound like you know what you're speaking about, Pepper," said Mary, peering at the wilting peace lily. "We can only hope your suggestions will work. Peace lilies are such beautiful plants, it's a shame to see this one looking so unloved."

  "Mary Goodenough!" barked Agnes. "Think about what you're saying! It's not unloved, I tend to my plants with a great deal of love."

  Mary's cheeks flushed, and she stared at Agnes with wide eyes. "I didn't mean it like that," she said. "I'm just saying that that's how the plant looks, not that you treated it that way. Anyway — let's hope the tips that Pepper have given you will work."

  "Yes," said Agnes, staring at Pepper from beneath knitted brows. "Let's hope her tips work."

  After a few more minutes, and a lively discussion on whether a cactus would thrive better in a kitchen or a bathroom, Pepper began to realise that the club was not really a garden lover’s club at all.

  Yes, the members all seemed to love plants, and she was sure they all enjoyed tending to them, but it seemed to her that the four people assembled in the small hall were all just looking for one thing — friendship and company. The focus on plants and gardening was just the excuse they needed to meet each other on a few nights each week.

  As that realisation dawned on Pepper, she decided it was time to leave. She knew she was vulnerable to people making her their friend, but she knew with equal certainty that having friends was hard work.

  Having to answer the telephone when you didn't feel sociable, or having to be at a particular coffee shop at a certain time, when you just felt like sitting alone in your garden, was hard work, and Pepper didn't need such stresses in her life.

  She smiled at Mary. "Thank you for the cake, it was lovely. Now, if you'll all excuse me, it's time I was getting home."

  Agnes sighed and gave Pepper a forced smile. "Thank you for bringing me my purse," she said. "It was very kind of you. I'm sorry I levelled such a horrible accusation at you. I think we can all tell that you’re not a thief."

  Pepper stood up. "That's quite all right," she said. "I'm not the sort of person who holds grudges."

  "Then we're all friends," said Geoffrey, clapping his hands and getting to his feet. "Will you be returning to the Picklebury Garden Lover's Club, Pepper? Or has your visit been a one-off treat, never to be repeated?"

  "It was a one-off visit, I'm afraid," said Pepper, unable to hide the smile which crept across her face. "Although I'm not sure I’d call it a treat."

  “I certainly feel invigorated by your energy, Pepper,” said Geoffrey. “I feel like meeting you was a treat. A charming treat.”

  "Geoffrey thinks himself a ladies’ man," said Agnes. "Ignore him. He tries it on with all the girls."

  "Only the pretty ones, Agnes," said Geoffrey. "So you've got nothing to worry about."

  Giggling into her hand, Mary Goodenough began gathering the empty plates and teacups. "I've had an idea," she said. "Why don't we take Pepper to our little patch of heaven and reward her for her kindness in returning Agnes’s purse with a selection of nature's finest offerings. I can take Stan a slice of cake too."

  "Oh, yes!" said Winston. "What a good idea." He gave Pepper a broad smile, making her feel guilty for a second time about internally referring to his eyes as piggy. "We have an allotment patch across the road! You must come and choose some goodies to take with you! The strawberries are out of this world — they go lovely with a little cream or yoghurt."

  "Oh no," said Pepper. "It's quite all right. There's no need."

  "Nonsense," said Agnes. "I was quite rude to you. Although I don't suffer fools gladly, it appears that I misjudged you. The least we could do is provide you with some organically grown fruit and vegetables to take home with you." She dropped her eyes briefly. "The least I could do, I should say."

  Remembering what her grandmother had said about never offending somebody by refusing to accept an offer of food or drink from them, Pepper relented. "Okay," she said. "That sounds wonderful. I do like strawberries, and I've got some lovely double cream in my fridge which could do with being used."

  "Then it's a plan!" said Geoffrey. "To the allotment!"

  Pepper whee
led her bike alongside the four members of the Picklebury Garden Lover’s Club as they crossed the road outside the hall and made their way towards the tilted gate which hung from one hinge, wrapped in the tight grip of an ivy plant.

  Her spirits lifting as she sensed the multitude of positive vibes pouring from the healthy plants which filled the large allotment gardens, Pepper pushed her bike through the gateway and followed in Winston's footsteps.

  He whistled as he led the group along narrow pathways which cut straight lines through beds of cabbages, cauliflowers, carrots, and plenty of other crops that Pepper didn't recognise from the tufts of green which poked from the earth.

  A young couple shouted a greeting as they sat outside their brightly painted shed, a bottle of wine and two glasses on an upturned wooden crate next to their feet, and Pepper joined in with the gardening club as they waved a response.

  "It's not just about the gardening, you see," laughed Geoffrey. "Allotment gardening is about the lifestyle. That young couple might live in a flat without a garden, but look at them, enjoying a glass of wine together while surrounded by nature. You can't beat the allotments — it's like a little society of its own."

  As Pepper gazed at her surroundings, she understood what Geoffrey meant. The allotments were large, and there were too many sheds to count, but most of the doors were closed, and she could only see a handful of people tending their crops.

  It was a Thursday evening, though, and many working people probably didn't have the time to visit their allotments every day. Pepper imagined it would be a completely different story on a weekend, and pictured the little pathways teeming with people carrying tools and laughing with one another as they enjoyed their gardens.

  She smiled. Being around nature always made her happy, but being in a place with so many healthy plants concentrated in one area increased her happiness to the next level.

  "That’s ours over there," said Winston, pointing at the little white shed alongside a tree which Pepper suspected was a pear tree.

  "We've had it for years," explained Mary, her bag hanging from her shoulder. "None of us have had to pay supermarket prices for our vegetables in a very long time."

  “Only the exotic ones from other countries,” noted Geoffrey.

  "It's a lovely patch," said Pepper, as she followed Winston onto the little gravelled area outside the shed and leaned her bike against a wooden post with a handwritten sign nailed to it. She smiled as she read what had been painted on the sign. A gardener’s life is long — there's always plenty of thyme!

  Winston smiled as he saw Pepper reading it. "I came up with that idea!" he said, proudly.

  "It’s very funny," said Pepper. "I like it."

  "You're not the first person to say that," said Winston. His face took on a stern expression, and he looked at Pepper as he took a key from his pocket and slid into the small padlock which kept the shed door locked. "I should mention that inside this shed are some very hazardous tools. I’d prefer it if you stayed out here while I get the equipment we'll need to harvest some produce for you.”

  Mary must have seen the look on Pepper's face, because she tapped her on the shoulder, and spoke quietly into her ear. "Just humour him," she whispered. "We all do."

  "I heard that, Mary," said Winston. "You may think you’re humouring me, but one day you'll be glad that I take safety issues seriously. An allotment can be a dangerous place, after all."

  "Come over here, Pepper," said Geoffrey, offering her a small wooden punnet which he took from a stack covered in a tarp. "Pick yourself some strawberries, you don't need any tools for that."

  Taking the punnet, Pepper thanked Geoffrey, and followed him along the little path next to the shed, which led them past the tree which hung with juvenile pears, and then to the raised bed of strawberry plants which sagged under the weight of succulent fruit.

  Each holding a punnet, Geoffrey, Mary, and Pepper plucked the juicy fruits from the lush green plants, and smiled at one another as Winston appeared with a selection of trowels and small gardening forks. "Here we are," he said, handing Agnes a fork. "Let's dig up some potatoes and carrots for Pepper."

  "I'll help," offered Pepper, popping a strawberry into her mouth and closing her eyes as she bit down on it, tasting the sweet juice which spilt over her tongue.

  "Nonsense," said Winston. "You've got your good clothes on, we're dressed for gardening. Agnes and I will get down in the dirt, you stay standing there, picking strawberries."

  And then suddenly, without realising it at first, Pepper was thoroughly enjoying herself. She was enjoying herself more than she had done in a long time. She listened to Geoffrey teasing Agnes and Mary, and she listened to Winston declaring that one should always use a kneeling pad when working at ground level, and she listened to the beautiful vibes of the plants.

  When her punnet was full, and her lips were sticky with strawberry juice, Pepper joined the four members of the gardening club as they congregated outside the little white shed and began filling a box with potatoes, carrots, and two punnets of strawberries.

  "There you are," said Geoffrey, the lenses of his glasses covered in dirty fingerprints. "That should fit in that handy little basket on the front of your bike."

  "Thank you," said Pepper. "You've all been very kind."

  "It was our pleasure," said Agnes. "I do hope our little altercation can be forgotten, and I must admit, I do like your jacket. I especially like the patch on the back. My late husband was a big fan of Pink Floyd."

  Pepper smiled as she took the box of produce from Agnes and placed it into the basket on her bike, laying her bag on top of it. "Thank you, Agnes," she said.

  "Have you got far to go?" asked Geoffrey. "It's beginning to get dark, and the policeman still inside me has noticed that you don't have any lights fitted on your bicycle. I don't mean to sound all authoritarian, but by law, you must have lights fitted to the front and the rear. I don't mind, of course, but if a serving police officer were to see you, he or she might not be so dismissive of the matter."

  "No," said Pepper, "I haven't got far to go. I live in Meadow View Cottage — near the second canal bridge. I just moved in a couple of weeks ago. And don't worry, I will get some lights fitted — I don't tend to cycle at night a lot, so I've never really needed them."

  "Good heavens," said Winston. "Give the lady a break, Geoffrey. You're not a policeman anymore."

  "Which is what I just said," stated Geoffrey. "I don't want to see our new friend getting into trouble with the law, that's all. This is a small town, and an overzealous officer will swoop on a cyclist with no lights fitted in the same way that a London police officer would swoop on a drug dealer with a car boot full of heroin."

  "Well, I appreciate the warning," said Pepper, being honest. If there was one thing she wanted to minimise, it was her interactions with the local police force.

  "If you'll give us a moment to pack away the tools, we'll walk you to the gates and say farewell," said Winston.

  "And hopefully it will only be a farewell, and not a goodbye," said Geoffrey. "It would be nice to get some fresh blood in the club. It's been just the four of us for too long."

  Pepper smiled, happy that Geoffrey thought so highly of her, but acutely aware of her shortcomings when it came to keeping friendships fresh. "I don't think so," she said. "I'm not the sort of person who joins clubs. If I'm being honest with you, I'm the sort of person who keeps herself to herself."

  "Well, I can understand that," said Mary. "Some people enjoy their own company over others, and there's nothing shameful about that, but if you should ever feel like —"

  "Don't you try and persuade her to join your husband's church, Mary," warned Agnes. "She's already said that she likes her own company."

  "I wasn't going to," said Mary, blushing. "I was just going to say that Dominic would always be happy to welcome a newcomer to the congregation."

  Feeling Mary's embarrassment, Pepper gave her a reassuring smile. "That's a lovely offer,"
she said, "but I won't be joining any clubs or churches. I think I met your husband yesterday, though. Dominic, you said? I saw him at the police station when I was there to…" Pepper paused. She didn't want to tell anybody, especially the four people whose company she shared, that she'd been at the police station to be interviewed about the alleged crimes of trespass and criminal damage. She continued, the lie bitter in her mouth. "…to explain that I'd moved into Meadow View Cottage. It had been standing empty for a few months, so I wanted them to know that any movement in the property was me, and not burglars."

  "Very thoughtful of you," said Geoffrey. "I'm sure they were very appreciative. No police officer likes to get called out on a wasted mission."

  "Oh yes," said Mary, taking the conversation backwards by a few sentences. "That would have been Dominic. He went along to pick up some charity money the police had raised to help repair the church roof. He was very grateful indeed."

  "Hold that thought," said Winston, peering past Pepper and squinting his eyes. "Can anyone else see that suspicious looking fella? Look, he's just slipped behind that green shed up by the back gate."

  As curious as everybody else was, Pepper turned to look at the area of the allotments which Winston was indicating with a finger.

  She half closed her eyes in an attempt to see through the bright beams of the dipping sun. It was hard to make anything out through the dazzling evening light, but as Pepper put a hand to her forehead and shielded her eyes, she saw movement.

  The man was moving quickly, and Winston had been right when he'd used the adjective suspicious. With a cap pulled low over his face, the thin man stepped from behind the shed and looked over his shoulder before hurrying along a pathway and finding cover behind the tall vines of a runner bean plant.

  "I see something," said Geoffrey, removing his glasses and wiping the lenses on his T-shirt. "But you must have better eyesight than me, Winston."

  "I can see him," said Pepper. "And Winston is right. He does seem to be acting suspiciously."