The Winter Garden

by Heidi Swain

  ‘They’re brilliant,’ said Graham, coming over for a closer look, ‘and someone over there has got an olive oil container, but we’re going to have to find a way to adapt it. Do you think Finn might have some tools to help with that, Freya?’

  ‘I’m sure he does,’ I said, hoping that he wouldn’t mind the interruption. I knew he was hoping to add the finishing touches to his latest creation.

  When everyone was settled, Graham asked me to step up to say a few words.

  ‘As you all know,’ I began, ‘Luke Lonsdale, who owns Prosperous Place, set up Winterfest this year with a view to helping us cope with the long winter months and short dark days.’

  The sky was all cloud, which demonstrated the point beautifully.

  ‘He’s also created a Winter Garden.’

  ‘With your help, Freya,’ Graham quickly added.

  ‘And yours and Chloe’s,’ I nodded, ‘and for everyone to enjoy. It’s going to be officially opened soon, but today is all about creating something cheering to have closer to home. It’s been scientifically proven that getting outside in nature, looking at green things growing and vibrant colours, such as those in the flowers Graham has found for us to plant today, releases all sorts of feel-good chemicals in the brain and therefore a container on the doorstep, or dotted around your garden, could make all the difference to your mental health.’

  Sara gave a little cheer and a couple of the others clapped.

  ‘So,’ I finished up, ‘before we all start to freeze, let’s get planting!’

  I very much enjoyed helping with the plant selection and colour co-ordinating. We soon discovered that the most impactful combinations seemed to be those which didn’t match at all.

  ‘I’ll just pop to see Finn about this container,’ said Graham, once he was happy everyone was occupied.

  ‘You don’t want me to go instead?’ I offered.

  ‘No,’ he winked. ‘There’s no telling how long you’d be!’

  When he came back, he had a couple of people with him. I knew they couldn’t be Winterfest late arrivals as all the spots were taken, but Graham looked delighted as he left them at the gate and rushed back over to me.

  ‘They’re here to see you, Freya,’ he excitedly told me as I looked up from the bag of compost my hands were immersed in. ‘I recognised the woman straightaway,’ he elaborated, ‘she’s a famous landscape architect. In fact,’ he added, ‘now I think of it, her last name’s Fuller. She isn’t a relative, is she?’

  ‘Yes,’ I swallowed, my shocked heart beating a sudden tattoo as I looked over to where she was standing, ‘she’s my mother.’

  It took me a moment to realise that she wasn’t with Dad, but Jackson. I had no idea why they’d come, but the sudden appearance of a shaking Nell at my side told me that she’d seen Jackson too. There was no way I was going to subject her to a reunion.

  ‘Would you keep an eye on Nell for me, Graham?’ I asked. ‘And I’ll get rid of them.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Graham, ‘but don’t do that. Take your time, show them around.’

  Obviously, he had no idea about my family set-up, and it was hardly the time to enlighten him, so I just smiled and strode over to where the pair were standing.

  ‘Freya, darling,’ said Mum.

  She leant in to offer me her cheek but, noticing the grubby state I was in, she recoiled.

  ‘Have you come to plant up some polyanthus?’ I asked, smiling sweetly.

  ‘Hardly,’ she grimaced.

  Bright bedding was the last thing she’d put in a winter-flowering container. Not that she would ever actually do any planting herself.

  ‘Well,’ I said, still ignoring Jackson, ‘that’s what I’m doing, so—’

  ‘We won’t take up much of your time,’ she cut in. ‘We just want a quick word. Jackson has something to tell you.’

  ‘Hello, Freya,’ he said, stepping up and giving me the kiss Mum had shied away from.

  ‘Jackson,’ I said, my stomach rolling because I hadn’t managed to move away quickly enough to ward him off.

  He had never, in spite of his early efforts, managed to kiss me before, and I was annoyed that he had caught me off guard. I was also perturbed to find that, in spite of the manner in which I’d left Broad-Meadows, thwarting his cruel plan for Nell, he still had the power to unsettle me.

  ‘You’re looking well,’ he added, appraising me in a way that I didn’t appreciate.

  ‘You’d better follow me,’ I said, heading for the garden office.

  ‘Aren’t you going to take us to your house?’ Mum asked, refusing the seat I offered her as I scrubbed my hands at the cracked Belfast sink.

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘I’m not. I haven’t got time.’

  I knew Graham wouldn’t mind if I took a minute or two, he’d already said as much, but I didn’t want either of them, particularly Jackson, crossing my threshold and tainting the cosy ambience I had created.

  ‘Well, I have to say—’ Mum began, but Jackson interrupted her.

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ he said. ‘We thought you might be busy and we really don’t want to hold you up.’

  ‘What do you want then?’ I demanded, determined not to let him know he had unnerved me.

  ‘I just wanted to tell you, in person, that I’ve decided not to sell Broad-Meadows.’

  I felt my temperature shoot up and my hands, which I’d just dried, turn clammy. I closed my eyes and swallowed.

  ‘Not sell Broad-Meadows,’ I repeated.

  ‘That’s right.’

  Jackson sat in the chair I had offered Mum and I dumped myself down in the one behind the desk.

  ‘I tried to tell you the last time we spoke,’ Mum piped up, ‘but you never let me get a word in edgeways these days.’

  Jackson bit his lip and I guessed he found my mother every bit as trying as I did. Had I not been reeling from shock, I might have found his expression amusing, but as it was…

  ‘You’re now keeping Broad-Meadows,’ I repeated.

  ‘Yes,’ Jackson smiled, showing off his perfectly aligned too-white teeth.

  He really was the all-American dream. Even on a Sunday he was dressed for business; come to that, so was my mother. Was there something else they had driven all the way to Norwich to tell me?

  ‘What made you change your mind?’ I asked.

  ‘I decided I couldn’t part with it, after all.’

  That was something, I supposed. I wondered what Eloise would make of his dramatic turnaround.

  ‘And I was kinda hoping,’ he carried on, fixing me with a penetrating stare, ‘that you might come back, Freya?’

  ‘To Broad-Meadows?’

  ‘Yes,’ he nodded, ‘and to your cottage in the grounds.’

  I had loved that little place. It was cramped but quirky and full of character, but then so was where I was living now, and in Nightingale Square I was surrounded by friends.

  ‘But what about your tenant?’ I frowned, remembering my speedy eviction.

  Jackson seemed to think he was offering me something special, and had conveniently forgotten the circumstances of my departure from my once beloved home.

  ‘Decamped,’ he shrugged. ‘So, the place is yours, if you want it – unless you were happier in the house.’

  ‘You know I was never happy in the house,’ I reminded him.

  He laughed then, which infuriated me and ruffled my mother’s feathers. Clearly, the meeting wasn’t going how she had planned.

  ‘Jackson wants you to manage the garden again, Freya,’ Mum pointedly remarked.

  I’d already realised that, but the way Mum said it told me that we were now getting to the crux of their unexpected arrival. I saw Jackson’s jaw tighten, just a little, but it was enough of a tell to warn me that something else was afoot.

  ‘Well,’ I smiled, ‘you know I always loved the gardens.’

  Jackson went to say something, but Mum got there first.

  ‘And now,’ she rushed on, waving
a bejewelled hand about, ‘they’re going to be even better.’

  ‘How so?’ I asked, my eyes flitting between them. ‘Are you making some changes, Jackson?’

  ‘You could say that,’ he said tightly, clearly annoyed that he’d been forced to say as much so soon. ‘I’ve submitted plans to turn the house and estate into a luxurious country house hotel complex.’

  There it was. My stomach rolled again as I imagined the workmen moving in and the character of the place being hacked out.

  ‘And the gardens,’ I steeled myself to ask.

  ‘Total remodelling,’ said Mum, looking delighted. ‘Cutting edge, modern, exciting. Jackson has already awarded your father and me the project and we want you to manage it.’

  I couldn’t believe that was something that she, or Dad, thought I would want to be a part of. They were both aware that one of the main reasons I had wanted to move on when Jackson put the estate up for sale was because I couldn’t cope with the thought of it all being changed. Surely, she hadn’t forgotten that?

  ‘Imagine it,’ she said, looking dreamily off into the middle distance.

  ‘Oh, I am,’ I told her, my eyes fixed on Jackson.

  ‘You’d be back at Broad-Meadows and back in the family firm,’ she pressed on. ‘You’d have the best of both worlds, my darling. Everything you could possibly want.’

  Except for the garden that I loved. The garden that Eloise and previous generations of her family, had spent their lives creating and perfecting. I couldn’t bear to think of it being ripped out and replaced with something contemporary and cutting edge.

  ‘But you seem to have forgotten that I’m very happy where I am,’ I said, turning my gaze back to Mum. ‘I’m settled here.’

  ‘But for how much longer?’ she asked. ‘The Winter Garden must be all but planted now, what with the opening happening so soon, and then you’re going to be twiddling your thumbs just maintaining the place. It’s hardly going to be a challenge, is it? From what I’ve seen it’s no size at all. You need to be thinking long-term, Freya, and much, much bigger.’

  I knew it would be a waste of time trying to explain to her that Nightingale Square and Prosperous Place were about so much more than the size of the garden.

  ‘But then I’m forgetting that you’ve started something with one of the locals, aren’t I?’ she laughed, as if my feelings for Finn meant nothing. ‘You can’t really be in love with him, Freya. You’ve only been here five minutes.’

  ‘I think you’d better go,’ I said, standing up. ‘I’m astounded that either of you could possibly think that inviting me back to Broad-Meadows to see it all being ripped apart was something I’d even contemplate.’

  ‘Don’t make a decision now,’ said Jackson, following Mum through for the door. ‘Think it over.’

  Exactly how dense was he?

  ‘We’re going to make the place great.’

  ‘I know you haven’t noticed,’ I snapped, following him out and feeling his previously negative effect on me dwindle to insignificance, ‘but it already is. Now, you found your own way in here, so I’m sure you can find your own way out.’

  Chapter 29

  There was no time to answer any of Graham’s questions about my unexpected, and unwelcome, guests because by the time I returned to the Grow-Well, Nell was decidedly off-colour.

  ‘I heard her behind the compost bays,’ Sara told me with a concerned frown. ‘I don’t think she’s eaten anything she shouldn’t, but she’s looking a bit sorry for herself, isn’t she?’

  She was right. Poor Nell was looking very green around the gills and I was certain it wasn’t because of anything she had eaten. Her pallor – if a dog can have one – was the result of seeing Jackson. She might have only had the briefest glimpse, but it was enough to upset her and further proof, not that I needed it, that going back to Broad-Meadows would be damaging for both of us.

  ‘I think you’d better take her home,’ said Graham.

  ‘But I’m supposed to be helping,’ I reminded him. ‘I don’t want to let you down.’

  ‘I can manage,’ he said stoically. ‘Everyone’s off and running now.’

  ‘And I can help too,’ offered Sara, who felt like a regular visitor now, which I supposed, given that she’d attended every Winterfest session, she was.

  ‘Take Nell back to the square and get her settled in the warm,’ Graham insisted.

  ‘All right,’ I agreed as my poorly pooch began to retch again. ‘She’s not setting quite the tone we were aiming for, is she?’

  We had a slow walk home and I settled my little love, who was trembling, in her basket in the kitchen. It wasn’t the warmest room, but it did have a tiled floor and once I’d put a jacket potato in the oven for my dinner, it soon heated up.

  I sent Finn a text asking if we could give our planned evening a miss and then returned my attention to reassuring my nervy companion that all was well and she had nothing to worry about.

  * * *

  Unfortunately, my words didn’t soothe her and it was a long night for both of us. I spent much of Monday flitting backwards and forwards from the square to the garden and trying not to think about what my parents were planning for the gardens at Broad-Meadows or what Jackson had in mind for the house. I wasn’t going to play any part in it, but that didn’t stop it dominating my thoughts.

  ‘How’s Nell?’ Luke asked, as I loaded tools into a wheelbarrow after lunch. ‘Graham said she was poorly yesterday.’

  I wondered if he’d talked about my visitors too, but as Luke didn’t ask after them, I didn’t mention them either.

  ‘Yes, she was,’ I sighed, ‘and she still is. I’ve left her wrapped in a blanket at home feeling very sorry for herself.’

  ‘Then why are you here?’ Luke tutted. ‘You should be with her.’

  ‘I can’t take the day off just because my dog’s sick.’

  Luke clearly didn’t agree.

  ‘It’s not as if she’s a child,’ I pointed out.

  ‘As good as,’ Luke smiled. ‘Take the rest of the day. And tomorrow.’

  ‘But I can’t.’

  ‘I’m the boss,’ he said firmly, pulling rank, ‘and I’m ordering you to go home and look after Nell. I don’t want to see you back here until she’s well enough to come with you. Got it?’

  ‘Got it,’ I smiled, pushing the barrow back into the shed. ‘Thanks, Luke.’

  ‘Oh, and about the fireplace,’ he said. ‘I’ve got a sweep lined up to come and take a look at the chimney, but I’ll put him off for a few days.’

  ‘I’d appreciate that,’ I told him, ‘and so would Nell.’

  The last thing my little bag of nerves needed was a strange man, with scary, noisy equipment, coming into the house. It was frustrating to think that all the progress she’d made in the last couple of months had been undone in moments, but it had happened and I would just have to help her bounce back. Still feeling unsettled myself, I knew it was going to take me a little while to bounce back too.

  * * *

  ‘Is that it then?’ Chloe asked the next morning when she popped in to collect the list of jobs I had collated for her and Graham to work through in my absence.

  ‘That’s it,’ I said. ‘That should keep you both out of mischief, shouldn’t it?’

  ‘I should think so,’ she agreed, ‘and how’s the patient?’

  ‘Much better,’ I said, looking over at Nell who was watching our every move.

  She hadn’t been sick overnight and had wolfed down, and thankfully kept down, the dry food I’d put out for her that morning.

  ‘Was it the virus that’s doing the rounds?’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘She got a bit stressed at the weekend and that’s what set her off.’

  I had spoken to the local vet, just to be on the safe side, and she was in agreement with me. Had Nell caught the nasty bug that was currently plaguing dogs everywhere then she’d have been knocked off her feet for far longer.

  ‘Poor littl
e mite,’ Chloe tutted nonetheless.

  She knew all about Nell being a rescue with a less than happy start in life and therefore felt kindly sympathetic towards her fragile mental state.

  ‘Do you want a coffee?’ I offered, holding up a mug.

  ‘Just a quick one,’ she said, glancing at the clock. ‘I don’t want the boss thinking I’m slacking and I know Graham will be itching to get on.’ She pulled out a chair at the table and sat down. ‘Nell wasn’t the only one across the road who was stressed out at the weekend, was she?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘When I dropped my wellies back late Sunday night, I heard a godawful row going on in Finn’s studio.’

  ‘Did you?’ I frowned.

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Didn’t you know?’

  ‘No. Who was it?’

  ‘Well, to begin with, I wondered if it was the pair of you, having your first lovers’ tiff.’

  ‘What?’ I gasped.

  Chloe rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, come off it,’ she tutted, ‘we all know that you’re together now.’

  ‘All of you?’

  ‘Yes,’ she laughed. ‘We’re taking bets on how long it’ll be before you go public.’

  ‘I see,’ I said, focusing on making the coffee.

  ‘Anyway,’ Chloe continued, ‘it wasn’t you, obviously.’

  ‘Why obviously?’

  ‘Because it was two guys shouting.’

  ‘Oh crikey. I hope it wasn’t Zak.’

  The brothers had been getting on so well, it would be a shame if they had a setback and had to start all over again.

  ‘I thought of him too,’ Chloe frowned, ‘but it didn’t sound like him.’

  ‘Do you think Luke and Kate could hear it?’

  Luke hadn’t mentioned anything about it to me, but then why would he?

  ‘Probably,’ Chloe sighed. ‘They were really going for it.’

  I hadn’t seen or spoken to Finn since we’d exchanged text messages late on Sunday afternoon. He was fine then, happy to put our plans off under the circumstances. I had told him Nell was unwell, but not why, and he told me that he was going to carry on working in the studio. As we were both so busy, we’d agreed to catch up later in the week, and I knew how immersed he got once he was in the creative zone. As we’d sorted everything, I hadn’t given his subsequent silence any further thought, but now…