by Suzanne Snow
Flora felt a thrill steal through her at his words; this meant he would almost certainly be at Róisín whenever she was, and she knew she would be happy to snatch more time in his company before she had to leave at the end of the week. They drank their coffee in a comfortable silence, enjoying the warmth of the sun through the glass, as it slowly climbed higher. Flora thought of Tamsin arriving here this morning, and the little girl’s family, as she quietly voiced the question which had been in her mind for the last couple of days.
‘I hope you don’t mind my asking, but I wondered what happened to Tamsin’s parents? Maggie said very little, other than that they died several months ago.’ Flora hesitated. ‘I quite understand if you’d rather not say.’ She knew well that not everybody wanted to reveal their grief.
Mac was silent for a minute and Flora thought she might have overstepped the mark and that he would not wish to share something so personal and upsetting with her. He dipped his head and then turned it towards her, the loss evident now in his eyes and the sorrow stilling his smile.
‘It was an accident. They’d gone to a restaurant on the mainland to celebrate ten years since they had first met. There was heavy rain and a lorry skidded into their car on the way home. The awful irony is that they were driving back instead of staying over because they didn’t want to leave Tamsin overnight. It wasn’t even dark.’
‘I’m so sorry.’ Flora’s voice was barely more than a whisper and he acknowledged her words with a twist of his lips.
‘Angus, her dad, was my best friend on the island; he grew up here but, like everyone else, he had to go away to board for high school, and so we’d both be here for the holidays and spent most of our time together. He moved away after university and met Rachael, and when they knew they were expecting Tamsin, they decided to come back and settle on the island so they could all benefit from the way of life here. Angus’s parents ran a B&B, so they already had family here; Rachael had lost her mum years ago.’
‘Oh, Mac,’ Flora whispered, tears filling her eyes as she thought about such a tragic loss. ‘You must all have been devastated. I’m so very sorry. Poor, poor Tamsin.’ Her free hand reached for his, and she covered his fingers with hers, caressing them lightly. His look moved to their joined hands and he squeezed, trapping her fingers between his.
‘Thank you.’ His voice was very quiet in the broken building and Flora leant towards him until their shoulders were touching, wanting to give him every scrap of empathy she could offer. ‘It affected the whole island in different ways, but everyone has been so supportive and helped however they could. Rachael’s dad was distraught, but he has MS and can’t offer the practical help he would like. Angus’s brother farms in New Zealand, so he’s out of the picture and, in place of a legally appointed guardian – as Angus and Rachael died without naming one – Tamsin lives with her grandparents here, as they are in a better position to take care of her. If it hadn’t been for Tamsin and the overwhelming need to look after her, I don’t know what Angus’s mum would have done. It nearly broke her, losing him and Rachael.’
‘What about you?’ Flora couldn’t have disguised the softness in her voice even if she had wanted to.
Mac shrugged and when he tilted his head sideways to look at her again, she saw the tears in his eyes, glistening against the grey. ‘I lost my best mate and sometimes now the island only feels like half a home, like it’s missing a piece of its heart somehow. He was such a madcap when we were kids and I keep expecting him to burst in to tell me about some crazy stunt he’s planning. But it’s worse for their families, whatever I feel. One of the reasons for moving here permanently will be the opportunity to be a proper godfather to Tamsin and help take care of her however I can.’ He blinked, the tears retreating as his tone became more reflective.
‘I don’t know whether Maggie has already told you, but Tamsin has a form of anxiety called selective mutism. She’s perfectly fine at home and with people she’s comfortable with, but when she started school and didn’t really speak, it was assumed at first that she was just shy. Eventually, it became apparent that there was more to it and then it took about a year to get a proper diagnosis, and it’s another thing for her grandparents to worry about. She’s having treatment and there were signs of improvement, but of course after what’s happened, she’s not doing quite as well.’
Mac raised his head to look at her, and Flora wanted to cup his face, to smooth away the sorrow lining his skin – and the realisation hurt. It was not her place. ‘Until she met you, Flora. She’s really taken to you.’
Surprise raced through her at his comment; Flora understood only too well how they were all having to adapt to a life no one had ever imagined or wanted. ‘I’m so glad if I’m helping her in any way, Mac.’ Shoulders still touching, she glanced at her watch. ‘Do you think we should go? They’ll be here very soon.’
They chatted about the garden as they walked back and Flora pointed out anything she thought would interest him, pleased by his curiosity in what she was uncovering. She opened the garden door after they had crossed the terrace and saw that there was already an additional car on the drive. An older man got out of the vehicle, immediately followed by Tamsin from the back seat. They called a greeting to her and Flora was thrilled when Tamsin came shyly towards her, a cautious smile beginning to reveal a little of the excitement that was bubbling in her eyes.
She was wearing pink flowery wellies with a purple coat, her love of pretty colours evident. Flora’s arm naturally extended towards Tamsin and she felt the warmth of her small hand slipping into hers. She squeezed it gently with a smile, feeling that bump in her chest again, as Mac made the introductions.
‘Flora, this is Doug Hardie, Tamsin’s grandad. Doug, Flora is the horticulturist I told you about.’
Doug reached out to shake Flora’s free hand, his bemused glance landing on his granddaughter as he observed how she had already snuggled up to Flora. He must only have been in his early sixties, but thick lines were carved through his face and his cheeks looked thin. Blue eyes were faded and his grey hair blown about by the breeze circling from the sea beneath them, and Flora guessed that this was a more shrunken version of the man he used to be. Not that she was surprised; she knew first-hand what sudden grief could do to a person.
‘I’m really pleased to meet you at last,’ he said warmly, his accent sounding very much like Lewis’s. ‘We’ve heard a lot about you around the island and Tamsin is thrilled with those little plants you gave her. It was very kind of you.’
‘Not at all,’ Flora brushed away his thanks, swallowing down the lump forming in her throat. ‘I just hope Tamsin enjoys them and they flower well for her.’ She looked at Tamsin, her sapphire eyes meeting the little girl’s softer blue ones. ‘Shall we take your grandad and Mac with us or would you like just us girls to explore on our own? I don’t mind which.’ Flora tilted her head towards the two men as she bent down and caught Tamsin’s faint reply.
‘Just girls.’
‘Perfect,’ Flora whispered for Tamsin’s ears only, before turning to Mac and Doug. ‘This is a girls-only expedition for now, so we’ll see you in an hour or so, okay?’
The two men nodded, although Doug looked a bit doubtful. Then Mac pointed to something high up on the house, distracting him, and Flora turned away, her hand still in Tamsin’s as she grinned at the little girl beside her.
‘Let’s go. I’ll show you some things I think you might enjoy but if there’s anywhere you see or want to explore, providing it’s not dangerous, let me know and we’ll go and look together. You can just squeeze my hand. Okay?’
Tamsin nodded as they set off back through the door and onto the broken terrace, and Flora warned her to be very careful as they descended the steps together. She began to explain a bit about the garden, unwilling to put her off by speaking too much and bombarding her with information that Tamsin would find hard to remember. She took her down to show her the rose garden and explained why they believed the hous
e was called Róisín, but left out anything to do with Archie or his death. Every so often, Tamsin would tug her hand and whisper a few words, questions which Flora was more than happy to answer. She talked briefly of the architect and how it related to Mac’s job, and why the garden might be important for teaching people in the future.
‘Are you sure I’m not boring you?’ Flora was watching Tamsin, who shook her head fiercely. ‘I promise to stop when you’ve had enough, okay? My friends say I talk too much about gardens sometimes.’
They had made their way up to the north garden above the house, and Flora led the way carefully through the tangled mess of lawn next to an overgrown border, until they reached an old summerhouse. A tiled roof was still mostly in place, despite the ivy climbing the walls and threatening to choke the stone. Flora checked to make sure it was safe, before she settled on a seat and invited Tamsin to sit beside her. She lifted an arm, indicating the view before them.
‘This summerhouse was built exactly here because it’s completely hidden from the house, but if you look down there, towards the old hedge, can you see the small gap in the hedge, a bit like a circle? When the garden was built, the gap would have been bigger so that people could sit here, look at the garden and catch a glimpse of the sea. It’s a clever idea and Rose, the girl who used to live here with her family, loved to come to this spot and write a diary about some of the things that happened to her. Mac found some boxes in the house with journals she had written and they’re helping us to find out more about her and the garden.’
Flora recognised that Tamsin was content to sit for a few minutes and rest her tired little legs. ‘We can stay here for a bit and then we’ll go and see where your grandad and Mac have got to. Do you think they might be lost, without us to show them the way?’
A smile, a nod, blue eyes resting on Flora’s face, questioning. Suddenly, Tamsin reached up and touched Flora’s hair, which was already trying to escape from its unruly ponytail, and Flora stilled, unsure what to do next as Tamsin’s hand fell away again.
‘My mummy had long hair.’
Quiet, heart-breaking words that made Flora pause to blink away tears, before she could offer a reply. She could barely breathe, and she swallowed anxiously, uncertain of how to reply without upsetting Tamsin, her voice tremulous. ‘Was it blonde and straight, like yours?’
Tamsin shook her head matter-of-factly. One pink welly was dangling off her small foot and she bent down to pull it firmly back into place. ‘Darker but not as dark as yours.’
‘I see,’ Flora murmured slowly, giving Tamsin time to continue if she wanted and aware of her looking straight down into the garden as she spoke again, just a few more whispered words.
‘I like your hair. I think Uncle Mac does, too. He’s always looking for you.’
Astonishment rendered Flora speechless after Tamsin’s confession. Sliding an arm across her narrow shoulders, she pulled her closer, holding her as tightly and as fiercely as she dared. Flora had no idea what to say or how best to respond, other than to show Tamsin that everything she had been brave enough to say mattered very much. They sat huddled together for what seemed like only moments, as Flora gently stroked her arm. Whatever else she might have to leave behind on the island, Flora was already dreading having to break the connection that she and Tamsin were developing through the garden.
‘Are you ready to head back to the house before we get too cold? The sun doesn’t reach here until later.’ Flora’s voice was low, her arm still tightly holding Tamsin. ‘I think Mac said there might be hot chocolate.’
Tamsin nodded and hopped down from her seat. As they set off on the walk back to the house, her little hand found Flora’s again and they returned to see Mac and Doug waiting for them on the terrace, sitting on green plastic chairs that looked incongruous in the historic and decades-old garden. There was a wrought-iron table, too, on which Mac had got a camping stove going, with a kettle and frying pan. He waved when he saw them climbing the steps carefully, hand in hand.
‘Who’s for sausages?’ he called, his eyes going to Tamsin before coming to rest on Flora. ‘They’re ready – you timed it well.’
‘They smell amazing.’ Flora squeezed Tamsin’s hand gently. ‘We’re starving after all that exploring. Hope you’ve got the hot chocolate you promised.’
‘Of course I have. Sit down and I’ll sort it out.’
Doug climbed to his feet when Flora and Tamsin reached him, scooping Tamsin up and spinning her into a hug that made her giggle. ‘Have you two had fun?’ Tamsin seemed serious as she looked at her grandad, who was staring at her with such love that it made Flora want to gasp at the unfairness of what they had lost. ‘What did you find out?’
Doug put her down and pulled out a chair beside his for Tamsin, but she didn’t sit on it; instead, she dragged it the few yards across the terrace until she was next to Flora and looked at her anxiously. Flora reached for her hand reassuringly and Tamsin began to speak tentatively, the noise of the sausages spitting behind her.
‘We saw an old stream that hasn’t got any water in it. It’s called a…’ Tamsin hesitated, looking at Flora again for confirmation.
Flora leant close to Tamsin, hoping to encourage her. ‘Do you remember? It rhymes with pill. It doesn’t matter at all if you’ve forgotten; you’ve listened so brilliantly to me chattering on for ages.’
‘A rill! It’s called a rill. But there’s no water in it.’
‘One day there will be.’ Mac had joined them, bringing plates with sausages stuffed into rolls, and Flora couldn’t miss the love in his expression as he looked at Tamsin. He pushed a plate onto the table in front of Flora and another one in front of the little girl.
‘Can I come and see?’
‘Absolutely! I’ll probably need your help, too, Tamsin, if you’re going to be a gardener like Flora. There’s so much to do.’ Mac reached down and stroked her hair, and she looked up at him, hanging onto his words as though they were a promise. ‘Not for a while yet, though, little one. There’s lots to do first.’
Flora watched as he slid another plate in front of Doug, and she couldn’t allow herself to think about the progress that this magical place was going to make in the future without her. All too soon she would be leaving, and these people would continue their lives as though she had never been amongst them. A thoughtful silence fell over them as they ate hungrily, broken only when Tamsin asked for another hot chocolate.
Mac joined them again after he had made more drinks, pulling out a seat beside Flora. His eyes sought hers for a moment and she was startled afresh by Tamsin’s observation. Doug pushed his empty plate aside and spoke, easing the sombre mood that had fallen over them.
‘I almost forgot and then I’d have been in trouble! Moira asked me to invite you both to an early supper with us at the B&B, tomorrow night. Will you come? She’s very keen to meet you, Flora, and say thank you for everything you’ve done for Tamsin. She’s even getting the baking tray out and Mac can tell you how famous her lemon meringue pie is, can’t you, Mac?’
Flora was certain that Mac would want her to refuse, as he would surely be unwilling to share an evening in her company with such close friends, especially given the distance he had tried to keep at the ceilidh. But she caught a glimpse of Tamsin’s face, beseeching and excited all at once.
‘Please, Flora?’
Flora knew she couldn’t say no, whatever Mac’s wishes might be, and she quickly plastered a bright expression on her face, careful not to reveal any reluctance to come for supper and risk hurting the small girl. ‘That’s really kind, if you’re sure it’s not too much trouble?’
‘Of course not. We’d love to have you, wouldn’t we, Tamsin? Mac?’
Flora couldn’t see Mac’s face but sensed his shrug beside her, his shoulders rising in a gesture that suggested he wouldn’t mind either way. ‘Thanks, Doug. Sounds great.’
‘Perfect. See you both about five thirty tomorrow then. That’ll give us some time toget
her before Tamsin goes to bed.’
The impromptu meal over, Doug thanked them and said goodbye, and Flora watched as he and Tamsin crossed the terrace to the drive. Tamsin glanced back to wave at Flora, as she had done on Saturday at the school, and Flora couldn’t help but smile as she waved in return. She stood up, piling the plates together to help Mac clear away, and thanked him for the food. Then she turned around to leave, intending to carry on working for as long as possible in the walled garden.
‘Flora? I may as well pick you up tomorrow night, if you like. There’s probably not much point in both of us driving and the B&B isn’t that near the hotel. Relatively speaking, given the size of the island.’
It seemed churlish to refuse his offer and Flora’s reply was casual. ‘Thanks. That’d be nice.’
* * *
When Flora arrived back at the hotel the following day, later than she had intended, she showered hurriedly and searched for something to wear – something that wouldn’t suggest she was trying to dress for a date. She pulled on skinny jeans and low-heeled ankle boots with a lemon-yellow shirt, tugging a jacket from her wardrobe that suited the casual style she was aiming for. There wasn’t time to dry her hair properly so she swept it into a messy bun above the nape of her neck that left tendrils drifting loose. She stroked her lashes with mascara, added lip gloss and her favourite perfume, and she was ready.
Excitement blended with nerves at the thought of spending the evening with Mac and she made her way through the hotel reception, holding the bottle of wine she had quickly collected from the bar. She saw immediately that he was waiting outside, probably keen not to draw unnecessary attention, given his relationship with Chloe. The passenger door to the Audi opened as she neared it, and she thanked him politely as she climbed inside. She glanced across, noticing that he was in jeans, too, with a slim-fitting indigo shirt, the top two buttons undone.
