‘I noticed. You should take care, Rosemary.’ Paul sounded so grave she wanted to laugh, but it was no laughing matter. The chef was sly and she hated the expression in his eyes when he looked her up and down like meat on a slab.
‘I am careful. He’s worse when I go near the kitchens. He always appears even though he’s finished work. Since he came I prefer to take stuff to Honeysuckle Cottage and cook in Papa Oliphant’s kitchen.’
‘There is a solution,’ Paul suggested, ‘but it would cost money.’
‘What sort of solution?’
‘No one needs access to the Stables Cottage since the last chefs went away. You could erect tall iron gates at the entrance to the gardens. They could be locked at night. I come by the back drive from the main road and through the orchard. The back entrance is nearer to my house and the village. Rodney cycles the same way.’
‘It’s years since I’ve used the back drive. I always seem to be heading in the other direction for Honeysuckle Cottage, or on to Bengairney. Gates would be a splendid idea to bar the access from the hotel. I must see how much they would cost.’ Her blue eyes gleamed. She detested Lambert creeping around. He tried to slide his hands down her arms when she was passing him a tray of vegetables. Once he had crept up behind her in the kitchens and tried to stroke her neck.
Rosemary discussed the idea of erecting gates with her father and with John Oliphant. Douglas Palmer-Farr couldn’t understand why she wanted to spend precious capital on something unproductive.
‘I want to lock out the chef. He’s sly and I don’t trust him. He helps himself to produce without accounting for it. I can’t stand him creeping about.’
‘I don’t see any objection so long as you can afford to do it,’ Catherine said. ‘You have your own telephone line and I notice you use one of the rooms at Stable Cottage for your office. It is sensible to be separate. It’s a pity the garden traffic needs to use the front drive. It is not convenient when we have a lot of cars for a conference.’
‘Rodney and Paul use the back drive.’
‘There was a transit van making deliveries two days ago,’ Catherine argued, ‘and last week there was a lorry delivering bags of fertilizer.’
‘Oh dear.’ Rosemary sighed. ‘You’ll be even less happy then when I tell you I intend to keep hens again, and a couple of beehives.’
‘Bees? You can’t keep bees. They might sting the guests and keeping hens would mean vans bringing poultry feed.’ Catherine frowned. ‘Although I admit we have missed the fresh eggs since Chrissie died. The guests liked the idea that we produced our own.’
Rosemary was busy with the summer produce and delivering surplus vegetables to local shops. She had received quite a few inquiries from local gardeners for young plants to grow on in their own gardens and she was considering expanding these sales. Her vegetables and salads were always fresh and there was plenty of demand without delivering too far.
‘You seem to be managing the gardens very well, Rosemary Lavender,’ Catherine said one evening. ‘Do you think you will have made any profit?’
‘Yes, I reckon so. Not a huge profit but we have extended the vegetable garden. It cost quite a bit to hire a rotavator for a day, but the man made a good job. It will give us more scope.’
‘I see. Where did you intend to put the beehives if you get them?’ Catherine asked. She had begun to recognize her own determination in her daughter. She had learned long ago to plant the seed of an idea, leave it to germinate, then foster its growth when everyone had had time to consider.
‘Down the far edge of the paddock, near the orchard but out of the shadow of the trees,’ Rosemary replied and Catherine knew she had been right; Rosemary had not given up the idea. ‘They would never come near your guests and they only sting if they’re disturbed. I’ve been to two lectures on bee keeping and I’ve read about it. I’m going on a short course in the spring. I’ve budgeted for two hives and the bees. We have mended the large hen house and the pullets will be delivered next spring.’ She smiled the engaging smile which transformed her pixie face. ‘Just think Mum, your guests will love home produced eggs and honey for breakfast. You’ll build up a reputation irrespective of that horrible chef. Local honey is supposed to help build up immunity to infections so it will be good for Paul. He’s proving a real treasure and I’m amazed at the things he knows.’
‘Paul is not my concern,’ Catherine said. ‘Your schemes mean more traffic.’ She was resistant to her daughter’s enthusiasm. ‘I am trying to persuade your father to improve the back road so that you can direct all your traffic that way. You would need to put up a large sign at the back lodge directing vehicles to Langton Gardens.’
‘I see. What did Daddy say? How would he improve it? What would it cost?’ Rosemary gnawed her lip. She had another idea growing in her mind for any spare cash she could accumulate.
‘He said I was being premature and he is refusing to spend money on a proper road until he is sure you are going to keep on with the gardens.’
‘Of course I mean to keep on with the gardens. Anyway the traffic will be much the same whoever is in charge of them,’ Rosemary said, ‘but I can’t afford any money towards improving the back road yet. It hasn’t been used for proper traffic for years.’
‘I think your father would be willing to bring in several loads of gravel and a roller to make an even surface but he refuses to spend money on having it tarred.’
‘Plenty of gravel and a heavy roller would make a big improvement. Lots of farm roads are made that way. It doesn’t have to be posh so long as it is level and dries quickly.’
‘I’m glad you agree,’ Catherine said with satisfaction. ‘Your father will pay for the improvement but you will be responsible for maintainance. Shall I tell him to go ahead then and you’ll keep all your garden traffic away from the hotel drive and forecourt?’
‘All except Papa Oliphant. He doesn’t come every day now. He needs his car.’
‘Very well. Louis grumbles because you have shut him out of the gardens.’
‘He was helping himself too much, and not just to the herbs,’ she said. ‘Selling produce is my business. You will have to tell him that, Mum. And another thing, I can’t get near the kitchens without him coming down and watching me all the time, however late I wait. I’m thinking of doing up the kitchen in the Stable Cottage and cooking there. I wondered if you’d mind if I took my bedroom furniture? I could live there if I had my bed.’
‘You want to move out?’ Catherine asked in dismay.
‘I’d still be popping in and out but I’d like to be a bit more independent.’
‘Are you still cooking a meal for John Oliphant?’ Catherine demanded. ‘His family should be looking after him now that Chrissie has died.’
‘He refuses to take any money for all the jobs he does around the garden and he appreciates a good bowl of soup. You know I’ve always enjoyed his company. If I was at the Stable Cottage we could eat together and it would save me taking it down to Honeysuckle Cottage. Mrs Caraford attends to his laundry and cleaning and Tania stocks his wee freezer at weekends. Sometimes she stays overnight and takes him down to Bengairney for his Sunday lunch.’
‘I suppose you will do as you like, as usual. At least you’ve stopped running down to the farm as often. How do you propose to move your bedroom furniture?’
‘Paul and Rodney will help me move things in the van. Thanks Mum.’ Rosemary grinned. ‘I need to do some scrubbing out first so it will have to wait until we’re a bit less busy.’ If she could get the bedroom painted before she moved the furniture, the other rooms could wait.
She didn’t mention that she would be visiting Bengairney very soon. They were hosting a Young Farmers Stock Judging competition before Alex went back to college. Both Alex and Sam had insisted she must be there. She would be able to do as she pleased if she was in the Stable Cottage.
‘Shall I pick you up to night, Papa Oli? It’s the stock judging competition at Bengairney.’
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br /> ‘Eh, young Rosie, I think I’m getting a bit old for such things, don’t you?’ John Oliphant said, shaking his white head and smiling.
‘Of course not. You’ve always enjoyed looking round the cattle. The Bengairney herd is becoming well known so I expect there will be people taking the chance to see the stock, apart from members of the club. Maybe Mr Turner will be there,’
‘Aye, he might, he’s always taken an interest in Sam and Alex. It’s a shame he has no son, or grandson, to follow on at Martinwold. All right, I’ll be ready.’
‘I’ve been trying to persuade Paul to come too.’
‘Aye, it wouldna do the laddie any harm.’
Paul decided he would go to Bengairney when he heard John Oliphant was going. He had a thirst for knowledge, but after spending long periods in hospital he had no desire to spend time at university. In fact both he and his mother were grateful to John Oliphant for encouraging him to work in the gardens. Any time he spent studying now was related to plants or garden design.
‘I think I might be a bit nervous around cows,’ he confided to Rosie that afternoon.
‘Don’t worry, the cows for the competition will be haltered for leading round the ring. I’ll not desert you to a crowd of strangers or take you where you’re in any danger. I’ll pick you up first, then we’ll collect Papa Oliphant. You’ll enjoy meeting the Carafords. They’re a lovely family.’
‘If you say so,’ Paul said, ‘but I get the impression Alexander would like to flog me anytime I’m in your company.’
‘Of course he wouldn’t.’ Rosie grinned. ‘We’ve known each other all our lives. He’s a bit protective, that’s all.’
‘Possessive, I’d say,’ Paul suggested.
‘We’re good friends, nothing more.’ She tossed her mop of blonde curls and frowned. Alex was inclined to be jealous whenever he saw her in the company of eligible males and Paul was quite handsome if you admired fair hair and blue eyes and finely chiselled features. He had grown taller since he first came to the gardens, but he was still very slim. She smiled to herself. It wouldn’t do Alex any harm to see her with someone else. Sam would never even notice, she thought gloomily. Lidia Blade was sure to be there.
When they arrived, three of the committee members were handing out cards for the judging competition. Lidia was flitting around like a colourful butterfly; Rosie had to admit she was the most glamorous girl there. She was not helping with anything, though, and her expression grew sullen when Sam continued to groom the cattle, making sure they looked their best for the judging. There were four classes of four animals so Joe Finkel would be leading one, along with Steven, Alex and Sam.
Dean came over to speak to them and she introduced Paul. ‘Dean will be master judge tonight so we all have to try and agree with his order of choice.’
‘I hope someone agrees,’ Dean said with a laugh. ‘Is she a tough boss?’
‘She’s a hard taskmaster.’ Paul glanced at her and winked. ‘I’m enjoying working in the gardens. I may decide to have a nursery of my own one day, or perhaps try garden design.’
‘I see.’ Dean looked at him. They all knew it had been touch and go whether or not he would recover from leukaemia but he looked well and healthy.
‘It’s good to have ambitions,’ Dean said. ‘I used to get frustrated, but you have to keep hoping and planning. I wish you luck, Paul.’ Dean turned to Rosie. ‘Are you going to have a go at the judging tonight, Rosie, or have you forgotten about cows these days?’
‘I’ll never forget about the animals.’ She looked at Paul. ‘Farming was my first love you know. ‘So yes, Dean Scott, I am having a go at the judging so you’d better agree with my choices.’ Her blue eyes glinted with laughter. There were often heated arguments after each class when people disagreed with the judges’ selection. At the end of the four classes the points were added up. There were prizes for junior and senior club members, as well as a class for open judging, which was the one Rosie would be entering. She tried to persuade Paul to have a go but he shook his head.
‘I wouldn’t know which cows have good legs and top line, milk veins and udders – and all the stuff you and Dean were discussing.’
Everyone chattered over the refreshments. Some were still discussing the judging and asking Dean to justify his reasons if they had not agreed with his choice. Mr Turner and John Oliphant had gone indoors for a seat and some of Megan’s home baking. Tania and Struan came to join them.
‘Speaking about gardening,’ Struan said, when Rosie had introduced Paul, ‘you can come and design ours any time you like. Farmers are notorious for neglecting their gardens – at least that’s what my father reckons. Mother says it’s just an excuse.’
‘We don’t do garden design,’ Rosie said ‘but Paul has had a brilliant idea for the forecourt to the hotel with a fountain in the centre and a rockery round about for small plants and spring bulbs. Even Mother is impressed. If you’re serious we could come to Shawlands and look at yours in about six weeks’ time. It might be a project for the winter. If Paul can suggest something to suit you we could grow the plants ready for planting next spring and autumn.’
‘Goodness, Rosie, you’re a devil for punishment,’ Tania teased. ‘Grandpa says you’re moving into the Stables Cottage as soon as you’ve done some decorating?’
‘That’s the plan, if I can get my bedroom furniture moved with my little van.’
‘Grandpa was telling Alex and Sam they should help you move your furniture. It would be easier for them with the Land Rover and trailer.’
‘I shall not refuse any offers of help,’ Rosie said with a grin.
‘Good. Oh listen, they’re announcing the winners of the stock judging.’
The winners of the Young Farmers’ Club junior and senior classes were announced first amidst cheers and a few friendly groans.
‘The open class, as well as best score overall, is Rosemary Palmer-Farr,’ the chairman announced. Blushing, but smiling Rosie went up to claim her prize.
‘You’re wasting your time being a gardener, Rosie,’ the chairman said with a grin. He raised his voice and held her hand in the air. ‘Tell her, boys, she must rejoin the club now she’s home from college. We need her for the stock judging team for next year’s Highland Show.’ There were several cheers as Rosie walked back to Paul and Tania. Sam came running after her, seized her in his arms and swung her off her feet.
‘You only had two places different to Dean. That’s brilliant!’ He hugged her close, then blinked, startled by the feel of her soft curves as he held her against him. His eyes darkened and he kissed her firmly on her surprised mouth. Over his shoulder Rosie saw Lidia glaring furiously at her. She stiffened and struggled to break away but Sam held her tighter, oblivious of their surroundings.
‘Let me go!’ she hissed. ‘I will not be used, Samuel.’ She pushed against his chest.
‘Used?’ Sam stared down at her. ‘Rosie…? He relinquished his grip. ‘What do you mean?’ He looked bewildered.
‘Don’t use me to make Lidia jealous. She’s glaring as though she’d like to drown me in the cattle trough over there.’
‘B-but I was congratulating you. I’m proud of you. Here’s Dad coming.’ He moved aside and Steven shook her hand and kissed her cheek.
‘You did well, young Rosie. You always did remember everything I taught you about the crops and the animals, but I thought you might have forgotten now you’re gardening.’
‘I’m glad somebody agreed with my opinions,’ Dean said coming up behind him.
‘You did a good job, Dean,’ Steven assured him.
‘You’re the one who coached us so it’s not surprising we look for the same type of animal.’
‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ Steven said. ‘At the end of the day it is one man’s opinion against another’s, but the stock judging has always been good fun.’
Alex came to join them. ‘You did well, Rosie. Congratulations.’ He eyed Paul. ‘Did your friend have a go?’
‘No. Paul, meet my old school buddy, Alex Caraford. Alex, this is my right hand man, Paul Keir.’
‘I thought it must be,’ Alex said, ‘So you’re interested in more than gardening, then?’
‘I am indeed.’ Paul’s eyes gleamed with amusement. He did not miss Alex’s innuendo. ‘Your grandfather and Rosie persuaded me to come, but gardening is my main interest.’
‘Right.’ Alex nodded. ‘You coming in to speak to Mum, before you leave, Rosie?’
‘We’ve already had a chat. I brought you some Victoria plums. I know they’re your favourite. I’ll collect Papa Oliphant, then we’d better head home. You’ll be going back to college soon, Alex?’
‘Yes, I wish I was finished and home for good but I’d better get my diploma or I shall never hear the end of it from big brother.’
‘Quite right too,’ she nodded. ‘We’re ready to leave when you are, Papa Oliphant,’ she called popping her head round the kitchen door where several men were seated round the table.
‘Oh you’re leaving, Rosemary? The plums are beautiful,’ Megan said, ‘but I would like to pay for them now you’re in business.’
‘I owe you more than a few plums,’ Rosie said, ‘but you can buy the jam plums if you’re sure you want them.’
‘Indeed I do. When will they be ready?’
‘I’ll bring them down in about ten days or so. They are in the orchard so they’re later than the desert plums in the walled garden.’
‘If you have plenty my wife might like some,’ Mr Turner said. ‘She used to make a good plum chutney.’
‘Rosie makes a good plum chutney herself,’ John Oliphant said.
‘We have plenty at present. Will you ask Mrs Turner to give me a ring and tell me how many she would like?’ Rosie said with a smile. She pulled a printed card from the back pocket of her smart brown trousers. ‘This is my telephone number. I’m separate from the hotel.’ Alex and Sam both raised an eyebrow. It was hard to believe their little tomboy with the patched jeans was an efficient business woman now. Sam wondered why he had never realized Rosie was an attractive and desirable young woman. Where had he been looking? It had shaken him tonight when he held her soft young body in his arms. She was no longer the skinny child he had carried down from the loft after she had run away from boarding school and almost died of exhaustion and hypothermia. Tonight he had been far too aware of her womanly curves. He’d had a further shock when Rosie had hissed at him in fury. They had never quarrelled in all the years they’d known each other. He felt hurt by her reaction.
Another Home, Another Love Page 5
