In the shift of shadows across the stone faces, Carys could have sworn the blank eyes were watching her, bending close in a protective circle around her and David. As if they were trying to tell her something.
Her head was spinning. She closed her eyes to force back the giddiness. She could smell the green newness of the leaves, and the distant exotic richness of the yellow azalea by the lake, and the world pulsating to the slow beat of new life.
She opened her eyes again, and found herself gazing into the face of Little Gwion Bach. The child with the face of the little boy of the photograph with Nainie’s mother. It was only recently, looking through Mam’s photographs again, that it had dawned on her that the familiarity in the mischievous little face was her own. It was Dad’s face as a child, just as much as it was Grandmother Judith’s. And it was her own.
Carys smiled at the child with the face full of such eagerness and promise. A child who held the future, and could become anything they chose.
The rustle amongst the leaves was a warmth on her cheek, almost like the soft breath of a kiss. In her ears was the sound of laughter. Small figures seemed to flit in and out between the statues, turning now and again towards her with eager children’s faces. One moment they were the mischievous features of Grandmother Judith, the next the loving seriousness of Hermione Meredith, until they blended together so completely she could no longer tell which was which.
And the suspicion that had been growing in the back of her mind over the past couple of months was back again: this time a complete and utter certainty.
‘David,’ she whispered.
He put his arms around her, as he bent to touch the softness at the base of her neck with his lips. ‘Yes?’
She turned to meet his kiss. ‘We’d better get going. I can hear more cars arriving, and we don’t want them sending another search party out.’
Beside the Venus fountain, now cleaned and with water dancing high into the air, Tash was already making her way home, tail held high, glancing back every now and again to make certain they were following.
Carys took one last look around at the statues. In the whispering of the breeze and the flick of shadows over their faces, she could have sworn they were smiling.
‘I’ve something to tell you as we go,’ she said, as she slipped her arm through David’s, holding him tight.
And they set off together, walking upwards in the soft brightness of the day, towards Eden.
Acknowledgements
I would like to give a big thank you to everyone at Honno Press. With special thanks to my editor, Janet Thomas, without whose guidance this story would never have come to life and from whom I have learnt more than I can ever express.
Thank you to my family and friends for their help, patience and understanding. With special thanks to Fran Cox and Salena Walker, and also to Dan and Linette for the beautiful photographs taken at Brondanw Gardens.
Thank you, as ever, to Dave and Nerys, Catrin and Delyth Haynes for being the best of neighbours and for help with the assorted menagerie. And a big thank you to my colleagues at Tape Community Music and Film for all the support and allowing me so much flexibility of working. I couldn’t have done it without you!
Many thanks to my friends and fellow writers in the North Wales’ Novelistas, the ‘She Writes’ Forum, and the RNA. And especially to the wonderful RNA’s New Writers’ Scheme, without which I would never have become a published author. And to my bookclub for cheering me on and tactfully not noticing when I haven’t quite managed to read the book. Again.
About the Author
Juliet Greenwood lives in a traditional Welsh cottage halfway between the Isle of Anglesey and Snowdonia. After studying English at university, she worked in a variety of jobs, from running a craft stall at Covent Garden market to teaching English.
Juliet began writing seriously about ten years ago, after a severe viral illness left her with debilitating ME/Chronic Fatigue Syndrome for years. She says that ME was the worst, and the best, thing that ever happened to her. On one hand, it sent her from being able to walk up mountains with ease to struggling with the simplest of everyday tasks. But on the other, it forced her to re-evaluate her life and her priorities. And it made her a writer.
She is now well and back to dog walking and working in her beloved garden. Juliet writes stories and serials for magazines as ‘Heather Pardoe’. Eden’s Garden is her first novel.
‘Juliet’s characters are so believable and richly drawn the reader really cares what happens to them and interspersed in the ongoing story is the intrigue and secrets of the past that tug the reader along to find out what happens in the end. I found it a very satisfying read.’
Anne Bennett
‘Written on the grand scale, this powerful and moving story of two deeply creative women, separated by time but both struggling to balance the conflicting demands of family duty and the desire for freedom, held me gripped until the final family mystery was resolved and the entirely satisfying resolution reached.’
Trisha Ashley
‘Beautiful writing and a charming, intriguing story.’
Sue Moorcroft
It’s a great romantic read and also a very atmospheric, ingenious mystery.
The book is a wonderful story of love lost and found that kept me enthralled to the last page.
The settings are so beautifully realised I felt I was there.
Lovely poetic writing containing some fabulous imagery.
The Victorian strand of the story has echoes of Sarah Waters’ Fingersmith and Wilkie Collins’ The Woman in White which gave it additional resonance and will delight lovers of Victorian fiction, written at the time or in the present day.
Margaret James
Copyright
First published by Honno
‘Ailsa Craig’, Heol y Cawl, Dinas Powys,
Wales, CF64 4AH
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
© Juliet Greenwood 2012
The right of Juliet Greenwood to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without
clearance from the Publishers.
ISBN 978–1–906784–42–3
Published with the financial support of the Welsh Books Council.
Cover design by Simon Hicks
Printed in Wales by Gomer
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