Robyn nodded. ‘I just don’t know what to do about it. He’s a good boy but I feel as if that good boy is slipping away and I don’t know how to stop it from happening.’
As Robyn shared her concerns, Winston chewed thoughtfully on a sausage roll. He hardly looked to be listening, his gaze on a bank of heavy cloud rolling across the rooftops. But then he spoke.
‘Does he have a job yet?’
‘He doesn’t have a lot of time with his college work,’ Robyn said, sounding a bit confused by the question. ‘I know a lot of his friends have part-time work as well but…’
‘Do you think he’d want one?’ Winston asked.
‘I expect he’d appreciate the extra money,’ Robyn said. ‘There’s not much around, though, is there? And what there is pays terribly for lads of his age. I don’t think he ought to worry about it just now – he needs to concentrate on his college work.’
‘It doesn’t sound as if he’s really doing that at the moment,’ Nina said gently.
‘Well, no, but… as soon as we get over this hump he’ll be OK, I’m sure.’
‘What does he want to do after college?’ Winston asked.
‘I don’t think he really knows.’ Robyn reached for a sandwich from Nina’s plate.
‘Maybe if he worked, he might start to discover what he likes and what he doesn’t,’ Winston said. ‘It might focus his mind a bit too.’
Robyn bit into her sandwich. ‘I suppose it might. At least, I expect it couldn’t make things any worse, and it might do him good to mix with people other than the gang he hangs out with at college. I mean, they’re OK but they’re not exactly future prime ministers or anything. I think Toby is bright and he can do better but he’s not going to while he’s keeping that company. I suppose it might help him grow up a bit to work.’
Winston nodded slowly, his gaze still on the looming cloud. ‘How does he feel about cars?’
‘Cars?’ Robyn repeated blankly. ‘He can’t drive yet – couldn’t afford the lessons for a start…’
‘But would it be an area of interest?’
‘I suppose he’s as interested as the next boy,’ Robyn said. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘I was just thinking I could do with some help,’ Winston said. ‘If he’s interested, that is. It wouldn’t pay much and it would be on a very casual basis, but I’d give him a good education and those sorts of skills are always handy to have.’
‘They certainly are, if only to save money on future garage bills,’ Robyn said with a smile. ‘I suppose I could ask him, see what he thinks.’
Nina looked at her dad with a small smile of her own. He didn’t really need help renovating his cars and he certainly didn’t have a lot of spare cash to pay an assistant. She recognised one of his finest qualities at play now. Nina’s dad saw a young life in peril, a future hanging in the balance, and he wanted to help steer it the right way, to help save it if he could.
‘Thank you,’ Robyn said. ‘I can’t promise he’ll say yes, but I think it’s a brilliant idea and I’ll certainly work on him.’
‘There’s no pressure, of course,’ Winston said. ‘If he’s interested I’d be glad to have him, but if it’s not for him I completely understand.’
‘As far as I’m concerned any lifeline is gratefully accepted,’ Robyn said firmly. ‘I really appreciate the offer whether he takes it or not – though if he says no we’ll be having words…’
‘It’s pointless making him do what he’s not interested in,’ Winston said. ‘See how the land lies. The offer’s always open even if he says no and then changes his mind later.’
‘Well…’ Robyn looked at her watch. ‘He ought to be back in the next ten minutes so if we get a quiet moment I’ll ask him about it.’
Winston nodded his agreement. Nina smiled at him, her heart bursting with pride. The world was full of unsung heroes and, right now, there was no bigger one in her eyes than Winston Alder.
Chapter Seven
It was mid-afternoon when the sky turned leaden and the rain began to lash down. The volunteers rushed to collect up equipment and belongings that might get damaged in the downpour and then dashed for shelter in the nearest open house where they could chat and wait for the weather to improve. Even though their own homes were only feet away, it seemed almost everyone was enjoying the novelty of working closely with people they didn’t see all that often too much to give it up just yet. That house happened to belong to Ada and Martha. For their part, they were thrilled to suddenly find themselves so important and useful.
‘Come in,’ Ada beckoned, ‘come through to the kitchen.’
‘Yes,’ Martha chimed in. ‘Come to the kitchen. We can have a cup of tea.’
‘Tea will get us warmed up,’ Ada said.
‘Yes,’ Martha agreed, ‘tea would warm us up.’
There was a silent, collective sigh of relief. Tea everyone could handle, just as long as they weren’t forced to eat some of the sisters’ dreadful cake.
Ada and Martha didn’t get a lot in the way of visitors and so they only had four chairs in a compact kitchen that, like elsewhere in the house, sported an alarming collection of puppy posters. These ones, however, were stuck on the walls with Blu Tack, some curled at the corners from cooking steam, some faded from the sunlight coming in the south-facing window. Nina suspected that if any of them were taken down there would be a perfectly stencilled rectangle of darker wall behind them.
There were a lot more than four people in that kitchen now, so almost everyone stood around while the sisters dashed about trying to find enough cups. They didn’t have enough of those either in the end, so Kelly went to collect some from her house to make up the shortfall. Some people said they’d prefer coffee, which sent poor Ada and Martha into a tizzy because they didn’t buy it, and so Kelly went back to her house to pick up a jar of that too.
While she was gone, Nina and Robyn took drink orders. Nina glanced across the kitchen to see Toby hoisting himself up onto a worktop to sit, legs dangling forlornly and looking very much like a fish out of water. Working alongside a bunch of adults he didn’t know was one thing, but having tea with them in a tiny, slightly unnerving kitchen was quite another. He looked as if he’d have preferred to take his chances out in the rain, though it was testament to the effort he was making that he’d come back from his lunch at the burger bar at all.
Nina couldn’t help but reflect, as she watched him look around the room, just how like his dad he was. The same chestnut hair, same deep brown eyes, the same freckles shading his nose. Every time she saw Toby he looked more like Eric, and Nina mused that the same thoughts must have occurred to Robyn.
Given what she knew about their complicated marriage, Nina wondered how Robyn handled that. It must have been a source of conflict to have such a strong, physical reminder of Eric in her house every day, to love him so much when her love for his father had been so much more uncertain and complicated. But whereas Eric had been rock solid, a man who knew exactly who he was and what he wanted, Toby was like a lost soul – it was plain to see for anyone who cared to look long enough.
It was hardly surprising, though, when you considered what a tough childhood he must have had. Nina nursing Gray as his wife had been hard enough; she couldn’t imagine how it must have been to be a young boy growing up in a house filled with Eric’s illness, where every decision and every thought had to be for him before anything else, where the constant fear of the inevitable must have been utterly overwhelming for his young brain.
She went back to her order list, and when she looked again she saw that her dad had struck up a conversation with him. At least, it was a conversation of sorts because there was definitely more effort on Winston’s part than there was on Toby’s, who simply pulled his cap down firmly onto his head, looking as if he would rather be anywhere else than this crowded kitchen.
‘I have to admit to being a bit worried that he’ll be too much for your dad.’
Nina turned to see that Robyn
was now following Winston and Toby’s awkward interaction too.
‘He wouldn’t have made the offer if he didn’t think he could handle it,’ Nina said. ‘He wants to help and he thinks he can see a way to do that.’
‘I know. I think he could help too, but the risk of it all backfiring worries me. I’d hate to think of Toby upsetting or hurting your lovely dad.’
‘Dad’ll be alright. You can bet he’ll be ready for any scenario – he knows how to handle more than you might think.’
Robyn nodded thoughtfully, her gaze still trained on her son across the room, who was now staring at his feet as Winston chatted. ‘If your dad says to you at any point that Toby’s visits are too much, or that he’s finding it hard work to communicate with him, you must tell me. I’d hate to think of him struggling.’
‘I will; you don’t have to worry about that. So you think Toby will say yes to Dad’s offer?’
‘I’m not going to give him a choice. I’ve decided anything that gives him less time to hang around with that gang of wasters he calls friends is OK with me. Not only that but he’ll be learning new skills and making a bit of money too. It’s a no-brainer really, isn’t it?’
‘You never know, it might be the money that sways him in the end,’ Nina said. ‘I bet he’d like to have a bit of his own so he doesn’t have to keep coming to you.’
‘That’s true.’ Robyn looked at her now, and in her eyes, Nina saw hope mixed with a pervading, lingering despair that made her heart ache for her friend. Robyn had already lost her husband – was she afraid now that she might lose her son too? Was she afraid that no matter what she did – what anyone did – she’d lose him anyway? ‘He needs a good male role model,’ she continued. ‘I do my best with him but he needs what Eric would have been able to give him.’
‘You do a fantastic job,’ Nina said. ‘Nobody could argue with that.’
‘Oh, I can take care of his everyday needs. But sometimes I think he needs a man to talk to, someone to tell things that he doesn’t feel he can tell me.’
‘I think my dad might know that.’
‘He’s a smart bloke.’
‘He is. I think he and Toby will get along. Although Toby might not be so keen on his music choices,’ Nina added with a smile.
‘Good!’ Robyn said. ‘Anyone who can turn him off that awful rap onto something with a tune should receive a knighthood as far as I’m concerned.’
‘Even if it’s naff old rock music?’
Robyn grinned. ‘There’s nothing wrong with a bit of Black Sabbath. If Toby comes in wanting to bite the head off a bat, I’ll consider his musical education a job well done.’
Nasser came over to them then, phone in hand. He turned it to show Nina a weather forecast on the screen.
‘I think we might have to call it a day. It’s annoying but it looks as if this rain is here to stay.’
‘People will be disappointed not to have made more progress,’ Nina replied, frowning at the phone. ‘Plus a lot of people can’t make it again tomorrow – many took time off work especially.’
‘I realise that, but it’s not really practical to carry on working in such heavy rain – all we’re doing is creating a mud bath.’
Nina looked at Robyn.
‘He’s right,’ she said flatly.
Nina gave a reluctant nod. ‘I don’t suppose anyone would thank us for ruining their shoes and clothes.’
‘Or for pneumonia,’ Robyn added.
‘Perhaps we can use the time to do other things?’ Nasser suggested. ‘As we’re all here together anyway.’
‘Like what?’
‘Like help you design the campaign for the charity lanterns? The more input the better, I’d have thought.’
‘Yes, I suppose we could do that,’ Nina agreed, feeling happier already. ‘If Ada and Martha are happy to let us use their kitchen for a while longer then anyone who wants to stay to help can, while anyone who’d rather call it a day is free to go home with our thanks.’
‘Excellent!’ Nasser said. ‘I’ll go and have a word with them now.’
It had been Nasser’s idea to invite the local radio DJ to come and cut the ribbon and declare the garden open. Nobody had really expected Sammy Star – the gravelled voice of Wrenwick Community Radio – to say yes but they’d all agreed that it would be nice to mark the occasion with something memorable after they’d all worked so hard to get it finished in what had been really a very short space of time. People had pitched in for odd hours here and there, when they’d been able to get away from work and family commitments, while Nina (who, having had no luck on the job front, hadn’t a lot else to do) had done her best to be there as often as possible as a sort of deputy foreman/coordinator when Nasser hadn’t been able to due to commitments of his own. In fact, she’d really quite enjoyed it because it had made her feel more useful than she had in a long time. A part of her was actually sad once the garden was finished.
Sammy Star was there now, cutting the ribbon as Nina and almost all of Sparrow Street looked on. They’d attracted a good crowd from the surrounding area too, perhaps intrigued by the promise of an up-close-and-personal event with a local celebrity.
‘He looks nothing like you expect him to, does he?’ Robyn whispered in Nina’s ear. ‘He sounds like sex on a stick when you listen to him on the radio, but in real life he just looks like a stick.’
Nina giggled.
‘And the eighties called,’ Robyn added. ‘They want their mullet back.’
There was a polite ripple of applause as Sammy declared the garden open, and then almost immediately people began to drift away. Nina had to admit that their modest little plot was hardly the most exciting thing to happen to Wrenwick but she’d expected a little more enthusiasm than that. She was proud of what they’d achieved with few resources and even fewer funds, and she was sure that the team of residents, and perhaps others, could at least stop and appreciate that for a minute or two. But it seemed people had better things to do and had lost interest now that Sammy had done his bit.
‘Nina!’ Nasser waved her over to where he now stood with the DJ. ‘Come and meet Sammy – you too, Robyn!’
Nina glanced at Robyn, biting back a grin. It looked as if they were about to get up close and personal with Robyn’s favourite stick.
‘Nasser tells me you two are the brains behind the charity aspect of the garden,’ Sammy said in a rumbling voice that sounded as if it couldn’t possibly have come from such a lanky frame. It was like hearing the voice of Pavarotti coming from Mickey Mouse.
‘Well, it’s not all us…’ Nina began. Nasser waved away her modesty.
‘Take some credit where it’s due,’ he said. ‘You two have worked hard on it.’
‘What made you want to do something like that?’ Sammy asked.
‘We both lost our husbands to motor neurone disease,’ Robyn said. ‘Originally, we wanted to raise money for the Sacred Heart Hospice who helped us through it, and that’s how it really started. Then we realised that there would be a lot of people who were missing loved ones from all sorts of diseases and tragedies, and we thought perhaps we could help the organisations that they’d turned to as well.’
‘There’s no master plan,’ Nina said. ‘Just a simple donation in return for a lantern on the big fir tree dedicated to a lost loved one. All the money we collect will go to a variety of good causes we’ve approved with our residents’ association.’
Sammy nodded sagely. Nina found herself distracted by his hairline. Surely it couldn’t be that black and that even on a man of his obviously advanced years?
‘Maybe you’d like to come on my show and talk about it?’ he asked.
‘Really?’ Nina looked at Robyn, who grinned.
‘We’d love to!’ Robyn said, but Nina wasn’t so sure. Still, she supposed, if they went on the show together then at least she could feel safe that Robyn – naturally more outgoing than her – would do most of the talking anyway. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so
bad and it would certainly help get the word out about their fundraising.
‘Fantastic,’ he said. His gaze wandered to the garden. ‘Is there any more to do here or…? I mean, it’s very nice.’
‘We’re pretty much done,’ Nina said.
‘Oh.’ Sammy looked unconvinced and Nina could understand why. They’d managed to tidy the land up and put a few plants in, but even she couldn’t deny it had hardly lived up to the ambitious plans they’d started out with. But nobody had banked on going over budget so quickly, and once they’d used the money from their own pockets they had found it tough to raise more from anywhere else. It was close to Christmas and people had enough to worry about, so the collective decision had been taken to do the best they could with what they had and to leave it at that until they could look at raising more sometime in the new year. Which had meant no landscaping, no ornamental fountain and no fencing. But Nina still thought it looked pretty with its neat flower beds and borders, and even though it was perhaps a bit barren now, it would be filled with colour once the bulbs they’d planted came out in the spring. There were overhanging trees and secret corners, bird boxes and feeders, little insect hotels put in for the children to wonder at during the summer and colourful wooden benches for their parents to sit and watch. Smooth paths ran through it and beneath one of the larger trees was a rope swing. It wasn’t going to win any prizes for garden design, but it was theirs – a little oasis of peace created by the community she loved, a little bit of heaven for them to share.
The Garden on Sparrow Street: A heartwarming, uplifting Christmas romance Page 8