The Heart of the Garden

by Victoria Connelly

  ‘Great!’ Kathleen said.

  ‘I’d start by shifting all the dead leaves. There are old plastic sacks over there that Mac brought with him. If we fill those with the leaves and pop a few holes in the bottom, they’ll make pretty good compost for future years.’

  ‘I’m impressed,’ Dorothy said. ‘You’re thinking ahead.’

  ‘It was Mac’s idea,’ Cape said. He’d been impressed by Mac’s foresight too. Compost was the foundation of every good garden. It was a natural product that was easy to come by and would save the estate money. ‘There are some rakes over there and a couple of brooms.’

  Everybody went and grabbed an implement and followed Cape out of the walled garden.

  ‘How are your boys getting on?’ Cape asked Patrick as they fell into step together.

  ‘They’re not used to being outdoors,’ Patrick said with a weary sigh. ‘Mind you, neither am I. I think we all spend an unhealthy amount of time at our computers.’

  ‘That’s the modern world, isn’t it?’

  ‘They looked at me as if I was mad when I told them about this project,’ Patrick went on. ‘“It’s winter,” they kept saying, but they don’t go out in the summer either.’ He sighed. ‘Are you sure this is a good idea?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘This whole gardening thing? I mean, we’re a bunch of old folks and kids who know next to nothing.’

  Cape frowned. ‘That’s not true. Mac and I—’

  ‘Yeah, I know you guys know what you’re doing, but what use are the rest of us?’

  ‘That’s what we’re trying to establish here,’ Cape told him. ‘But I’m really confident everyone can play an important role.’

  ‘Well, you’ve got more optimism than I have,’ Patrick confessed.

  ‘And we’re hardly old,’ Cape said, picking up on his earlier comment.

  ‘Oh, come on – that Dorothy woman?’

  ‘She’s coping okay, isn’t she?’

  ‘Maybe for now, but I don’t want to be responsible if she keels over and has a heart attack.’

  Cape almost choked in shock at the comment and Dorothy must have heard it too, because she turned around and glared at him.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’ she said, her face clouding over.

  Patrick wiped his hands on the front of his jeans. ‘Look, lady – all I meant was that you’re no spring chicken.’

  There was a sharp intake of breath from Dorothy. ‘I’ll have you know that I have absolutely no intention of keeling over and, if I do, I’ll make sure it’s as far away from you as possible!’

  Cape did his best to hide his amusement at this as he turned to face Patrick, who had the good grace to look a little shamefaced.

  ‘I didn’t mean—’ Patrick began.

  ‘Dorothy’s more than pulling her weight,’ Erin said. ‘Have you seen the amount of bricks she’s moved today? And she did it all with a smile on her face, which is more than some people can manage around here.’

  ‘Okay, okay!’ Patrick said in defeat.

  ‘I think you might owe Dorothy an apology,’ Cape whispered.

  He noticed that Patrick’s two boys were lagging behind the group. The older one, Matthew, was shuffling his feet along the ground while Elliot, a couple of years younger, had picked up a stick and was thrashing the hedge with it. Kathleen was watching in obvious disapproval.

  ‘How about I give them something really fun to do?’ Cape said.

  ‘Like what?’ Patrick asked.

  ‘There’s a yew bush that’s been growing in a pot for a while. It’s been kind of an experiment of mine. I haven’t been able to make up my mind what to do with it. Your boys could practise on it if they want.’

  ‘Practise what exactly?’

  ‘Topiary. Clipping.’

  ‘And you’re sure they can’t do any damage?’ Patrick asked.

  ‘They’ll only be using secateurs,’ Cape assured him.

  ‘No, I didn’t mean damage to themselves, I meant to the yew bush.’

  ‘Oh, right. No. It’s pretty indestructible.’

  ‘Well, if you’re sure.’

  ‘I think it might get them interested, you know?’

  Patrick gave a snort. ‘You reckon?’

  ‘Got to be worth a try, hasn’t it?’ Cape said, trying not to be discouraged by Patrick’s response.

  ‘I guess,’ Patrick said.

  ‘Right, boys!’ Cape clapped his hands together in enthusiasm as he turned towards Matthew and Elliot. ‘Have you ever heard of topiary?’

  They both looked up at him with bored, sulky expressions on their faces.

  ‘No? Well, it’s a way of clipping hedges into shapes. You can make anything from animals to crowns. The only thing limiting you is your own imagination.’

  The spark that Cape had hoped to ignite remained unlit.

  ‘Come with me,’ Cape said, leading them across the lawn towards the topiary garden.

  ‘What do you think of these, then?’ he asked as the boys stared up at the strange shapes above and around them.

  ‘They’re weird,’ Matthew announced.

  ‘Kind of freaky,’ Elliot declared.

  ‘I think they’re kind of cool,’ Cape said.

  ‘Why are you showing them to us?’ Matthew asked in suspicion.

  ‘Because I think you can have a good go at making one of these yourselves.’

  ‘Seriously?’ Matthew said.

  ‘Seriously. See that pot over there?’

  The boys nodded.

  ‘It’s yours. It’s a yew bush. A lot of topiary is made out of yew. It’s easy to work with.’ He reached into one of his jacket pockets and brought out two small pairs of secateurs and handed one each to the boys before giving them the world’s quickest lesson in topiary shaping.

  ‘So, we can make anything?’ Matthew asked once he’d finished.

  ‘Anything you like.’

  ‘A football?’ Elliot suggested.

  ‘That’s a good idea, although round shapes can be deceptively hard to get absolutely perfect,’ Cape warned them.

  ‘I’m going to make a dragon,’ Matthew announced, enthusiasm showing at last.

  ‘I wouldn’t be too ambitious either,’ Cape warned. ‘Maybe something in between a football and a dragon.’

  ‘Or a dragon kicking a football!’ Matthew said.

  Cape laughed. ‘One day. But perhaps not today.’ He paused and then clapped his hands together. ‘Right, I’ll leave you to it. We’ll be just round the corner so holler if you need any help.’

  Cape left, but couldn’t help turning to take one last look at the boys who were standing examining the potted yew bush as if it were an alien life form. He grinned. They’d soon get stuck in. Now it was his turn – clearing one of the beautiful brick pathways that lay hidden under years of fallen leaves, moss and general debris.

  He was thrilled to see that his fellow gardeners had taken the initiative and made a start with the rakes and brooms; a section of the path had already come to life, waking up after its slumber, ready to be admired and used once again.

  It was good, satisfying work, which quickly built up the body’s temperature so that you forgot just how cold the January afternoon was. He noticed that Patrick was keeping his distance from Dorothy, but that the women were working well together. He walked towards them.

  ‘Dorothy?’ he said. ‘Can I have a word?’

  The old lady looked up and nodded. ‘Everything okay?’

  They walked down the path out of earshot of the group.

  ‘I was just making sure you’re all right. After Patrick’s comments, I mean.’

  Dorothy glanced over to where Patrick was raking leaves and took a deep breath as if fortifying herself.

  ‘If he thinks he can turf me out of this project then he’s wrong!’ she declared. ‘I might be old, but I’m not dead yet!’

  Cape grinned. ‘That’s the spirit.’

  ‘In fact, I’ve never felt more a
live,’ she went on. ‘I might move slightly slower than you young ones, but I hope I can be of some use to you all.’

  ‘But you are,’ Cape assured her.

  ‘Well, that’s good to hear,’ she said, ‘and, if I feel any keeling over coming on, I’ll let you know.’ She gave Cape a little wink and they returned to the group.

  ‘Hey, Cape – we could have a bonfire with all these leaves,’ Patrick suggested.

  ‘I think Cape wants them for compost,’ Anne Marie said.

  Cape thought for a moment and came to a decision. ‘I think a bonfire to round our first day off would be a great idea,’ he said. ‘There’ll be plenty more leaves to collect in the garden for compost and these are good and dry so will make a nice fire to warm us up. Your boys will like that too, won’t they?’

  Patrick shrugged. ‘They might. Or they might think it’s really lame. Everything’s really lame to them at the moment.’

  ‘Oh, dear,’ Dorothy said, compassion flooding her face. ‘It sounds like you’ve got a battle on your hands.’

  ‘You’re telling me. Everything I say or do is wrong, and they’re not even teenagers yet. I hate to think what happens when that stage kicks in.’

  ‘They’re probably just rebelling a bit since their mother . . .’ Kathleen began.

  ‘It’s okay. You can say it.’

  ‘I just meant—’

  ‘Since she walked out and hasn’t been in touch?’ Patrick said, suddenly full of fury. ‘I suppose that would screw you up pretty good as a kid, wouldn’t it?’

  Dorothy, who was standing next to him, reached out and touched his shoulder. ‘These things take time,’ she said. ‘They’re finding their way in a new and difficult world.’

  ‘Aren’t we all?’ Patrick said with a derisive sort of snort.

  ‘When I lost my husband, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I felt sad and mad all at once. It took me ages to even want to leave the house. I felt as if everybody was staring at me, waiting to see if I’d crumble.’

  Everybody had stopped working now and was listening to Dorothy.

  ‘That’s so sad,’ Erin said.

  ‘I know it’s not the same,’ Dorothy said, ‘but your boys are probably grieving in a similar way. They need time and love and support. They’ll get through it.’

  Cape had been watching Patrick’s response to Dorothy’s words and could see that he felt deeply uneasy. He had cast his eyes down to the ground to avoid eye contact and was doing a funny sort of shuffle with his feet. Perhaps he was regretting his earlier words to her, especially now that she was showing such kindness towards him.

  ‘Something else they’ll benefit from is fresh air and plenty of exercise,’ Cape added to lighten the mood a little. ‘That’ll do them the power of good.’

  ‘I’m not sure it’s doing me the power of good,’ Kathleen said. ‘I’ve just broken a nail.’ Her tone was more amused than annoyed though.

  ‘You’re not wearing the gloves I gave you,’ Cape said. ‘They’ll save you from a dozen different mishaps in the garden.’

  She nodded and walked across to the dilapidated bench where she’d left them. Patrick’s gaze followed her, but he quickly withdrew it when she turned around and came back, the gloves now firmly on.

  Work resumed and the beautiful red-brick path continued to reveal itself to the gardeners.

  ‘Just look at the colour of these bricks,’ Dorothy enthused. ‘I wonder who the last person was to walk down this path.’

  ‘I often wonder that when I’m in the garden,’ Cape confessed. ‘I sometimes think I’ve caught a glimpse of somebody just walking into the shadows or around the corner. It makes you wonder if the ghosts of gardeners past are here.’

  ‘Oh, don’t!’ Erin said. ‘That’s spooky.’

  ‘Can gardens be haunted? Isn’t it just houses?’ Dorothy asked.

  ‘I don’t see why they can’t be,’ Kathleen said. ‘If somebody spends a long enough time in one place, they’re bound to leave a little bit of themselves behind.’

  ‘Maybe we’ll all leave a little bit of ourselves behind here,’ Cape suggested.

  ‘But this project only goes on for a year, doesn’t it?’ Patrick was quick to point out.

  ‘Initially,’ Cape said. ‘We’ll have to find a way of maintaining the gardens once they’re restored.’

  ‘Won’t that be somebody else’s job?’ Patrick asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Cape said honestly. ‘I thought maybe some of us would want to continue here.’

  The group didn’t say anything. They still obviously had reservations about the amount of time they were willing to donate to this project.

  ‘I’d like to stay on,’ Anne Marie said.

  Cape glanced her way and smiled. ‘Good.’

  ‘I might,’ Erin said. ‘Unless someone buys me a month’s holiday in Italy or I’m given my dream job in a museum or gallery.’

  They continued work on the path for a while, but the light was beginning to fade. The sky had turned an eerie shade of sepia and the temperature had dropped. Mac emerged from the walled garden and stood admiring the path that had been unearthed.

  ‘Nice,’ he said, nodding in appreciation.

  ‘A pretty good first day’s work,’ Kathleen said.

  ‘Hey, I’d better see how your boys are getting on with that yew,’ Cape told Patrick who nodded, but didn’t offer to go with him.

  Cape made his way to the topiary garden and instantly came to a standstill at the sight that greeted him. It was an evergreen apocalypse. Years of patient growth had been mercilessly hacked away in less than an hour, the devastation littering the ground around the terracotta pot. Cape cursed under his breath and looked around for the boys who were nowhere to be seen.

  ‘Boys?’ Cape shouted. ‘Matthew? Elliot? Where are you?’ He stood still, his head cocked to one side as he thought he heard voices. ‘Boys?’

  ‘We’re in the maze!’ a voice shouted back through the half-light of dusk.

  It was then that Patrick joined him.

  ‘Where are the boys?’ he asked, looking around.

  ‘They’re in the maze,’ Cape said.

  ‘Dad?’ a voice yelled.

  ‘Elliot?’

  ‘We’re lost, Dad!’

  Patrick gave a tiny grin. ‘Were they meant to go in the maze?’

  ‘I didn’t exactly give them permission,’ Cape confessed.

  ‘I see. And how did they get on with the—’ Patrick stopped, his mouth suddenly dropping open. ‘Bloody hell! Is that the plant you gave them?’

  Cape rubbed his chin. ‘Erm, yeah.’

  ‘I’m guessing it shouldn’t look like that.’

  ‘Not in an ideal world.’

  ‘Little blighters,’ Patrick said.

  ‘I should have supervised them.’

  Patrick shook his head. ‘This would still have happened. The minute your back was turned.’

  ‘I’ll go and get them out of the maze.’

  ‘Leave them in there,’ Patrick said.

  ‘But it’ll be getting dark soon,’ Cape pointed out.

  ‘Serve them right.’

  Cape frowned, half amused, half appalled. ‘Are you sure?’

  Patrick looked a little uneasy and then cleared his throat. ‘Well, just for a few more minutes.’

  Cape nodded. ‘You got it.’

  The cries from the maze continued.

  ‘Dad? Dad? Are you there? We can’t get out! Daaaaaad!’

  Cape waited in a sort of agony. His instinct was to rush into action and head into the maze, but he couldn’t exactly defy Patrick’s wish, could he? He looked at him now as the daylight began to fade. There wasn’t that much time. He’d have to get a torch out if they left it much longer.

  ‘Erm, Patrick?’ he tried. ‘What do you want to do?’

  The boys’ shouts from the maze had caused the others in the group to gather round.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Erin asked.
r />   ‘The boys are in the maze,’ Cape told them.

  ‘I take it they’re lost?’ Anne Marie said.

  ‘It sure sounds like they are,’ Mac said as the cries from the maze continued.

  ‘Shouldn’t someone go in after them?’ Dorothy said, looking from Cape to Patrick and back again.

  Patrick held up a hand for a moment, his head nodding a little as if he was counting.

  ‘All right. In you go,’ he said to Cape.

  Cape breathed a sigh of relief and took off at a cracking pace.

  ‘It’s all right, boys!’ he called. ‘Stay where you are and I’ll have you out in no time.’

  Cape had never negotiated the maze so fast, not even the time Poppy had run off and got herself lost, though she hadn’t been so anxious – she’d simply laughed. He remembered the day so clearly. He’d followed that laugh until he’d found her, scooping her up in his arms and peppering her flushed cheek with kisses. He had a feeling that Matthew and Elliot were more likely to be peppered with reprimands than kisses when their father got hold of them.

  ‘There you are!’ Cape said a moment later as he rounded a corner and found the boys.

  ‘This place sucks!’ Matthew said.

  ‘It’s freaky,’ Elliot said. ‘Can we go home now?’

  ‘You sure can,’ Cape said. ‘Follow me and don’t get lost again.’

  ‘I’m not planning to,’ Matthew said in all seriousness, making Cape smile. He had a feeling these boys had learned a rather valuable lesson.

  At last they reached the exit and Patrick was there to leap upon them.

  ‘What the hell do you think you were doing?’ he shouted, causing Dorothy and Anne Marie to flinch. Erin raised her eyebrows and Mac and Kathleen looked on in alarm.

  ‘We’re sorry,’ Matthew said. ‘We just wanted to have a look.’

  ‘I don’t mean the maze. I mean that yew bush!’ Patrick cried, pointing to the bare stump that was left in the pot.

  The boys looked guiltily towards the mess they’d made.

  ‘How do you explain that, eh?’ Patrick demanded.

  ‘We didn’t know when to stop,’ Matthew said, his voice small.

  ‘Didn’t know when to stop!’ Patrick shook his head. ‘You need to apologise to Mr Colman right now!’

  The boys turned to Cape.