In a Country Garden

by Maeve Haran

  Douglas had been officially appointed, through his firm, to mastermind the works. Bella would project manage. Len and Hiro were taking a particular interest and became a regular feature as spectators, which the builders seemed to find a great joke. Hiro was even asked to do the odd calculation.

  The building works only halted once when Len, in breach of every building site rule, charmed a strapping workman into letting him have a go with the big digger and ended up with a heart scare.

  Claudia had to rush to hospital and found the faithful Hiro at his side and no sign of her mother Olivia.

  ‘I’m so sorry, love. I know I shouldn’t have done it but I miss all those big machines.’ Her father, before he retired, had been a structural engineer. ‘But one thing is good. I’ve found out I’ve got a bad heart.’ He took Claudia’s hand. ‘Will you promise me something, Claudie?’ His voice was suddenly serious. ‘If I have a heart attack, don’t let them take me into hospital and stick tubes in me like Frankenstein’s monster. I don’t want to be revived. I want to die at home. Will you promise that, please?’ There was a crack in his voice that wrenched at Claudia.

  He turned to Hiro. ‘Will you too?’

  Hiro took his hand. ‘Leonard, I am only a machine.’

  ‘No you’re not. You’re my friend. And you’ve got more brains than most idiots I meet.’

  Hiro nodded solemnly.

  Sixteen

  Ella thought about putting her cottage on the market in the conventional way through an agent and couldn’t be bothered. She’d been through the whole process so recently. Instead she called up Tim McInerney, the developer who’d outbid her in the auction and then sold it to her for the price he’d paid. Julia would protest she wouldn’t get as much for it that way, but Ella decided it was like selling your car via part exchange rather than doing it yourself on eBay. Worth it to save yourself the hassle.

  It was all done in a very gentlemanly way and he even suggested they have a drink when she was next in London. That would give Julia something to think about, if she had a beau who was twenty years younger!

  Instead she ought to think about where she was going to live for now. She had decided she wanted to live locally, especially as Claudia had asked her to plant a vegetable garden for the manor so they could grow their own produce. Wandering through the village, she saw a sign in The Laden Ox offering a cabin in the wood at the bottom of their pub garden. The drawback was no water, loo or electricity. Suddenly this appealed to Ella. She would be a hermit or a wood sprite, rediscovering nature. She went in and hired the place on the spot.

  The pub landlady was thrilled and got them both a glass of wine to mark the occasion.

  Great, thought Ella, what could be nicer than living in a wood at the bottom of a pub garden? Even if it did mean she had to sleep with two hot-water bottles inside a sleeping bag when it got really cold.

  Just as they were clinking their glasses a rather attractive man wandered into the pub to see if it was open yet. He was about her age, rather suave with designer stubble and a silk scarf knotted in the manner of José Mourinho.

  ‘What are you celebrating, girls?’ he enquired merrily. ‘Can anyone join if they pick up the tab?’

  ‘Now, Daniel,’ tutted the landlady. ‘We’re not officially open yet. This lady is going to move up to Igden Manor as soon as it’s finished, but till then she’s renting my chalet in the wood.’

  ‘Is she indeed?’ He turned to Ella. ‘You’re part of the new-age old-age commune then?’ His eyes twinkled mischievously. ‘We’re all riveted to see how it turns out. Will there be non-stop Bob Dylan and naked festivals with free Sanatogen?’

  ‘I think we’ll probably keep our clothes on most of the time,’ Ella replied. ‘We don’t want to scare the horses and children.’

  Daniel surveyed Ella’s neat, still gamine appearance. ‘I think the horses and children could probably cope and the rest of us might enjoy it.’

  Ella held up her glass of wine consideringly. This man was flirting with her. And he was clearly a regular in the pub where she was going to be an almost-resident. What did she think about that?

  ‘So how long before it’ll all be finished up there?’

  ‘Quicker than you’d think. They’re working at it full tilt.’

  ‘I’m amazed at old Lord Binns agreeing to sell at such a knock-down price.’ Clearly the whole village knew every detail of the deal. She’d have to get used to the difference between village living and the anonymity of London.

  ‘Perhaps he’s looking forward to the naked festivals as well.’ Shocked at herself, Ella realized she was flirting back.

  ‘Dirty old man. He has to be eighty at least.’

  ‘Excuse me.’ Ella slipped as elegantly as she could off her bar stool. ‘I have to go and sort out my stuff.’

  ‘Hope to see more of you, as they say,’ Daniel replied, opening the door for her.

  Later on, when she unpacked the few things she’d brought with her for her new cabin living, she went to pick up the key from the landlady. ‘So who exactly was that?’ she asked.

  ‘Daniel Forrest. He runs the local choir. They meet here every week.’

  Oh my God, Ella realized, feeling foolish. So that was Daniel the sexy choirmaster. The man Claudia had had a flirtation with, which had almost wrecked her daughter’s wedding when Gaby found out.

  Ella could see Claudia’s point. There was something intriguing about Daniel Forrest.

  All the same, the last thing they needed was Ella herself falling for Daniel Forrest. She’d better make sure Claudia kept distracting her with the vegetable garden!

  Claudia had to admit they were incredibly lucky with their builders. They were punctual, polite and amazingly hardworking. To her amazement they even worked on Saturdays.

  And considering she’d known nothing about building work, Bella was an absolutely brilliant project manager. With advice from Douglas she’d trawled the internet and now could speak Builder fluently. Claudia, for instance, had no idea what things like M&E – which turned out to be mechanical and electrical – or UFH – underfloor heating – meant, but Bella grasped them at once and had gained the respect of the building site even though she quite often had Noah slung round her chest when she issued her instructions. Claudia had taken to looking after Noah some of the time since Laura was in London, and it had made her rather hope her daughter Gaby might decide to have one herself. Of course she couldn’t say anything. Mothers these days weren’t allowed to have views on wanting grandchildren or it was seen as a breach of human rights.

  After that life settled down much as before as summer changed into autumn and then winter. Ella made several visits back to London to the famous allotment for advice and tips for planting the vegetable garden, and also, Claudia suspected, because she missed it so much.

  Claudia, shopping in Sainsbury’s, saw a large stack of mince pies and sent a photo of it to Gaby on her phone, with the caption: Oh my God, the nightmare that is Christmas approacheth.

  Then came the idea that, while her parents still had the rectory, it would be lovely to have a really big Christmas there, and it would be a great way of saying goodbye to it.

  So they all started planning. Olivia loved guests, especially if other people did the work. And actually a communal Christmas was great fun, when each person could contribute something different.

  After that the months seemed to flash by and finally, finally, the following May, Douglas and Bella announced that if they didn’t mind ignoring a few builders finishing off, it was ready for them to move in.

  Claudia decided she ought to move first to supervise everything and Don, who looked about as thrilled with the move as a wet Wednesday in Wigan, finally agreed to organize vans and transport. ‘Poor Vito’ – he surveyed their dog – ‘I bet he’ll hate the move,’ he stated glumly.

  Vito, who loved every two-legged creature from the postman to a passing burglar, was looking decidedly upbeat at the prospect of more humans to
pet and feed him.

  They moved their belongings plus Vito’s basket into the coach house, where Bella had thoughtfully arranged (as she had in all the apartments) a moving-in bunch of roses in a jam jar.

  ‘Oh, look at that!’ Claudia pointed out almost tearfully. ‘Like home already!’

  The day after, when they had at least roughly unpacked, they would move her parents and – a subject of much disagreement – Hiro the robot.

  ‘At least he doesn’t need his own room,’ commented Don.

  ‘My mother keeps putting him in the broom cupboard with the vacuum cleaner,’ Claudia giggled.

  ‘I suppose it begs the question,’ Don said, shaking his head thoughtfully. ‘What exactly is a carer robot? A broom with a brain?’

  ‘Hiro’s been wonderful with Dad. He’s much more than a broom.’

  They surveyed their new home.

  There was a sudden knock and Bella arrived with a bottle of champagne, holding the now-toddling Noah firmly by the hand in case Claudia’s dog was there, whom Noah now took great delight in chasing.

  ‘We’ve come to welcome you and show you all the features,’ she announced proudly.

  ‘You shouldn’t have gone to the expense of champagne.’ Claudia knew Bella’s finances were stretched, even if the free accommodation helped a lot.

  ‘It was on offer in Aldi!’ Bella grinned. ‘It was so cheap I could buy one for everyone.’

  ‘Who cares.’ Don tickled Noah who laughed delightedly. ‘Champagne is champagne. I wonder where the glasses are.’ He looked round at all their unpacked boxes.

  ‘Don’t worry.’ Bella rootled around in the backpack that went everywhere with her. ‘Plastic but still flutes!’ She handed round three champagne glasses.

  ‘Don will do it. He’s an expert.’

  Don grinned and began to open the champagne. ‘The secret is to move the bottle not the cork,’ he informed them. After three turns the cork popped open with not even a drop spilled. ‘Like the sigh of a satisfied woman,’ he announced pompously.

  ‘If you say that one more time, I’ll divorce you!’ Claudia informed him.

  ‘Come on, time for the tour,’ Bella intervened and started off into the living area. The dark-beamed oppressive almost stable-like feel of the old coach house had disappeared, along with the row of horse brasses which Bella had donated to The Laden Ox. Instead the room was open and light, painted in shades of subtle grey. The inglenook fireplace now contained a large stove instead.

  ‘Much more energy-efficient,’ Bella pointed out.

  ‘Is it gas-fired?’ Don asked gloomily. One of the few country pursuits he’d learned to love was chopping and stacking logs.

  ‘No. Wood-fired.’ Claudia could have kissed her. ‘It’ll definitely need lots of logs.’

  The mood was calm and peaceful. A little lacking in personality but they would add that. This would be the backdrop for the rest of their lives.

  ‘Note all the plugs at waist-level. That’s so you can reach them if you’re ever in a wheelchair.’

  ‘Right.’ Don caught Claudia’s eye.

  ‘Downstairs loo.’ She led them to it. ‘There’s a shower as well as a toilet in case the stairs ever become a problem. And the loo’s amazing. It cleans you without toilet paper.’

  Claudia sighed. It was all very practical and realistic. And just a tad depressing.

  ‘They call it future proofing,’ Bella explained. ‘The law insists on it now.’

  Don raised his glass and looked at his wife. ‘I think this calls for a toast. To Don and Claudia who will never run out of toilet paper ever again.’

  And Don and Claudia fell about laughing.

  Noah produced a sudden shout of delight and pointed in the direction of the large French window.

  They turned to find a scene worthy of a Bollywood movie.

  Mrs Lal had arrived in a black Mercedes with what seemed like a posse of flunkeys carrying exotic items into the hotel building which had been converted into luxurious apartments for Olivia and Len, Rose and Mrs Lal.

  They watched spellbound as a three-foot elephant decorated with what looked like real jewels led an art deco lamp held by a life-size Nubian slave and a vast gilded Chinese screen.

  ‘Just wait,’ Don commented. ‘There’ll be a giant Buddha next.’

  ‘Keep your cultural stereotyping to yourself,’ Claudia chided. ‘We don’t know what religion she is.’

  Don had gone ominously silent and pressed his nose right up against the French window. ‘Bloody hell!’ he said, stunned. ‘Look at that!’

  The final flunkey was carrying a six-foot oil painting which had been wrapped in a car rug which had just fallen off to reveal the image beneath.

  This was of a young woman with black hair, an ethereally pale face, dark eyes and a slightly parted red mouth, whose robe had fallen apart to reveal one pearly breast. The background was as dramatic as the figure, a kaleidoscope of shapes and colours in red, gold and green.

  ‘If that’s not a Klimt, then I don’t know anything about art,’ murmured Don, seriously impressed.

  ‘You don’t know anything about art. She’d hardly own a Klimt, they cost zillions, and if she did, she’d hardly bring it down with her in a car just wrapped in a rug, would she? It’s probably one of those reproductions you buy as a student. Even I had The Kiss on my wall.’

  ‘Did you?’ Don sounded surprised. ‘I didn’t realize you were that much of a romantic.’

  ‘There’s lots you still don’t know about me,’ she smiled back.

  ‘I suppose that’s quite good after thirty-five years. Anyway, I’m worried about this Mrs Lal.’

  Claudia was worried too but she wasn’t going to admit it. ‘Just remember, we couldn’t have done it without her money. I just can’t think why someone that rich ended up in Laura’s spare bedroom.’

  ‘To embarrass her son-in-law, according to Laura. Remind him he couldn’t afford to put her up in the style to which she was accustomed.’

  ‘I’m surprised she thinks we can. Hey-ho. I suppose she’ll add a bit of spice.’

  ‘Now who’s culturally stereotyping?’ Don laughed.

  Claudia couldn’t think of a clever reply so she tickled Noah’s bare feet instead. He giggled appreciatively. What a pity life got so complicated as you grew up.

  ‘By the way, where’s Vito?’

  They looked round for their dog, but there was no sign of him.

  ‘We didn’t leave him behind, did we?’ Don asked anxiously.

  ‘No, he was definitely in the back.’

  They both ran upstairs.

  Their double bed had already been assembled in the master bedroom, all made up beautifully by Bella.

  ‘I think it’s important people see their bed looking all inviting as soon as they arrive,’ she explained.

  And right in the middle of the pristine white duvet cover, Vito slept angelically.

  ‘At least someone’s happy,’ Don shrugged.

  ‘Come on, you old moaning Minnie.’ Claudia took his arm. ‘Let’s go and see who else has moved in. We might even say hello to rich Mrs Lal.’

  ‘I think we’re all packed up.’ Olivia looked round the house that had been hers for so long.

  Memories here were like a patchwork – some bright, some dull. She’d never wanted to accept the truth that she had a mental illness. Brought up to be tough, illness was for the weak, but there had been times when she’d been genuinely frightened she was going mad. The medicine, which she resisted at first, had changed her life. But nothing could stave off the other threat – old age.

  The final straw had been the washing machine. Ridiculous really. All she had to do was phone and yet suddenly she’d longed not to have to summon the John Lewis engineer, or the electrician when things fused. When she’d last had to call Barry, the man who’d mended their lighting for years, she’d asked him a question. What do old ladies living alone do when something breaks? His answer had chilled Olivia. ‘The
y don’t do anything. They just ignore it.’

  After today she wouldn’t have to worry. Someone else would do it. She’d never become that old lady who sat in the dark because she hadn’t got the money or the energy to call for help.

  She turned to her husband. ‘One thing I want to get clear. That thing’ – she pointed at Hiro – ‘doesn’t come with us.’

  ‘If he doesn’t come,’ Len replied mutinously, ‘then I’m not coming either.’

  Husband and wife of over sixty years stood glaring at each other, a three-foot manikin all that separated them from physical violence.

  ‘If I might suggest a compromise?’

  They turned round in unison to confront Hiro.

  ‘Yes?’ barked Olivia, surveying the little robot contemptuously.

  ‘That you switch me off when I am not needed to provide Leonard with companionship.’

  Olivia knew that her husband had changed. The malleable character she had married had become more intractable, especially since this metal monstrosity had appeared in their lives. But like the issue with the washing machine and the plumber, she hadn’t the energy to fight him.

  ‘Why are you smiling, Leonard?’ Hiro asked him in a quiet voice as they fetched the last of his belongings.

  ‘Because I won.’ His impish smile had returned, making him seem suddenly years younger. ‘I need your companionship all the time.’

  Rose, with characteristic panache, had brought in the Homes Editor from the magazine she and Sal had worked on to design her apartment. ‘I’ve got as much design sense as a colour-blind cabbie,’ she announced. ‘Besides, the secret of my success has always been to delegate to someone more talented than me.’

  ‘But I loved your room at New Grey,’ Sal had protested when Rose told her, remembering Rose’s chintz paradise which had struck her as less an office, more a vicarage designed by Colefax and Fowler. ‘It was so you!’

  ‘That was because the Homes Editor designed that too!’ Rose announced, roaring with laughter.

  The result was, anyway, reassuringly Rose. Vintage standard lamps, Aubusson-style rugs, long drapey silk curtains, painted furniture and wallpaper decorated with birds of paradise. Somehow it looked instantly lived-in even though it was brand new.