Flowers for the Gardener

by Sharon Maria Bidwell

  “Which brings me off the subject of the proposals for a moment. Yes, I’m moving into the house I showed you the other day.”

  “I know.” Though Ethan’s voice was quiet and calm, he still managed to sound irritated. “Sapphire told me. She said it’s part of some big project you’re involved with. The career you want. She said…I should ask you directly about that.”

  “It’s my idea and I’ve backers. The house, my house, is the first of its kind. In a way it’s going to be a show home for a time. The one to pitch to potential buyers. I took you on a tour of what you can see on the surface. There’s so much more you can’t see. The other day I wanted to take you along anyway, but the brochures had come in and I was checking it with an inspection of the property. Trying to get a feel for what a buyer will notice and what needs explanation.”

  A few steps took him back to the desk where he grabbed a brochure from the bottom of an often-locked drawer. Trying to curb his excitement of at last sharing his future with someone he cared about other than Saffie, his blood thrummed through his veins.

  “Sorry if showing you this seems pretentious.” Impossible to keep the grin from his lips as he handed the booklet over. Though Ethan didn’t appear to share the same level of enthusiasm at least he started to flick through.

  “Basically, an Eco house is a dwelling which uses materials to reduce energy needs and environmental impact. This doesn’t mean simply solar panels. We’re talking making a home healthy to live in, carbon neutral, the design…we want to make as little impact on the area in which it’s built as is realistic. It’s why my house appears to have two levels on one side, three on the other. It kept the roof level low and flowed with the natural slope of the ground, creating a large house which blends with its surroundings rather than stand out as an eyesore.”

  Ethan was nodding. “From what I recall, I can see that.”

  How technical should he get? Probably not very. There was such a thing as boring an audience. “We use natural and recycled materials wherever possible. There are higher than normal levels of insulation, ways to absorb solar heat, and north-facing glazing is kept to a minimum as it reduces heat-loss. There are methods for rainwater and greywater collections. It goes further, into the wood used, and the stone work. We try to use local craftsmen when possible, not that it always is, but we source the best we can. We even search out natural materials as much as we’re able. In a way, all we’re doing is returning to the routes of building. Houses built in the 1800s, for example, sourced local stone. We’re using some traditional methods, combined with modern technology.”

  “Which makes you look as giddy as a young man after his first lay.” Ethan flipped the brochure closed. “Look, I don’t mean to burst any bubbles here, and I’m sure it’s all so interesting, but…the house. You’re talking pricey ecosystems for those who can afford them. I cottoned on she wasn’t your average estate agent.”

  The verbal slap in the face struck unexpectedly. Rich withdrew into his seat, face heating. He was not going to fucking well blush another time. He would not! “Maybe I deserved that, but no. The first houses are, I grant you, but for every sale there are plans to take a portion of the profits to invest in more average homes. If you look at the back of the brochure, you’ll see…Well, we’re talking millions. The woman you’re talking about isn’t an estate agent at all. She’s a different kind of agent. The firm she works for, hired by me, is to show a few interested people around. In brief, they provide services for those who can afford them. We’re using them, along with other marketing strategies, to gain the right attention. It’s why she needs a key until I take possession, and even then she or one of her colleagues will do some of the initial viewings or be in on them.

  “The eleven million…it’s worth more with all the added systems but we can remove some upon negotiation, but only through mutual agreement. These houses are cheap as chips for some of the perspective buyers but we can hike the price and the structure up to whatever level they need. However, we’re out to build homes the planet can sustain, not simply to meet a lot of buyer requirements. The first family homes, yes, we’ll be talking around a million, a million and a half. Later down the line, we’re looking to create our first estate within five years, the prices more along the lines of normal market value. It won’t be any more affordable than most homes but people will get more for their money and it will be better ecologically.”

  Silence silted the air. He’d set out…not to impress exactly, but to share his vision with the one person he cared about most, aside from his sister. Not once had his enthusiasm wained and now Ethan managed to take all the fun, all the enjoyment out of a life-long dream. Rich withered by the second, waiting while Ethan flipped through to the back cover of the form.

  “Okay, you’ve put me in my place and I’m suitably impressed.”

  Resolve snapped back, twanging Rich’s nerves like an elastic band. He struggled not to sit up as eager as a pup for a treat. Did Ethan really see what he wanted to achieve?

  “There I was thinking you wasted that education of yours.” A soft, gentle smile lifted one corner of Ethan’s mouth and a twinkle of pleasure reappeared in his gaze. Too soon fading. “I owe you an apology.” Sounded like a hard thing to say.

  “No—”

  Ethan flapped his hand, waving Rich’s denial away. “I’ve been thinking far worse things than I said to your face. Trust me, I do owe you a sorry. I own my mistakes.”

  He made it sound as if Rich didn’t, but they’d been too many assumptions between them—a thing of which they both appeared to be guilty.

  “I take it this means you’ve been organising another career all this time and don’t intend to take your father’s place.”

  “No. I mean, yes, then no. My interests lie elsewhere. As to the family firm, I’ll get to that. The point is, I always intended to offer you and your father a job. I intended to offer anyone who works for us a place, either with me or Mother, or in some cases a shared position. I’ll need gardeners. My mother won’t. Or, if she does, she’ll only need occasional help and I thought anyone could nip round and cut a lawn.”

  “If she moves.”

  “Granted. If. Of course, I didn’t count on your father not being here. I wanted…had hoped, to have your father’s input into how best to landscape the grounds along the lines of biodiversity. His and yours both.”

  “I’m surprised you know he was interested in that kind of thing.”

  Rich couldn’t keep from blinking. “Why? He told me about companion planting, bio-intensive agriculture, and permaculture among other things. I thought your father would love it. I didn’t want to drag him away from the work of many years with no good reason and without offering something to soften the blow. I also intended to make the best use I could of his knowledge. I require a garden as kind to nature as it can be, while wowing the hardest heart of any rich bastard.”

  That at least earned him a laugh but as the sound petered off and Ethan sobered, a more serious note crept in. “Pity for you my father isn’t here.”

  Rich sat back. Pity he’d forgotten how touchy Ethan could be. “You’re right. I’m hoping a little of his knowhow rubbed off on you, and even if not the case, I still need a gardener.”

  “A gardener.” Small subtle changes passed through Ethan’s expression. He appeared…thoughtful, rueful, several other emotions combined. “That would be right.” He stood. “I’m sorry, Richard. I truly am, but the answer is going to have to be no. I…may take you up on your offer to pay some of my father’s bills. I may have to, and I thank you, but that’s as far as anything you have to offer me goes. As you’ve given me time, I’ll let you know my plans as soon as I have any.”

  The conversation wasn’t supposed to go this way. Rich once again studied the rug, gaze following the intricate zigzags, trying to find a way through the maze. When he looked up, Ethan had reached the door. Opened it. Hesitated.

  “I wish you all the best, I do. I hope the project
works out.” Then without a backward glance, he was gone.

  Chapter 18

  So lost in his own thoughts was Ethan, he walked right by Ruby Gardener, the sound of her voice issuing from the shadows, sounding more brittle than the weather before he saw her.

  “What do you think you’ll gain from this?” She hovered like some crow, trying to seek shelter amidst the lower branches in the shade of a tree.

  Against his better judgement, Ethan stopped. Wouldn’t surprise him if the old biddy looked as haggard as he imagined when she stepped out from the dark, but she didn’t move. Though he couldn’t see her eyes, her gaze stung. Prickles and pinpricks of hatred ran over his skin, the feeling mutual.

  “Gain?”

  “It’s what you’re all about, isn’t it? You wanting something from my family.”

  The only emotion he should feel upon hearing those words was anger but somehow, Ethan lacked the energy. He no longer hated the woman. He no longer felt anything.

  “You’re still out for money, aren’t you?”

  Ethan had moved to carry on down the path but spun around instead and marched toward her. To his delight, she took a step back.

  “For your information if I needed money I’d only have to ask Richard. That’s got no bearing on anything between us. If you hadn’t influenced his decision, it’s quite possible I could have asked your husband and he would have done the same. I would have even been happy paying you back had I to stay a lifetime to do it. But you wouldn’t hear me out. What were you so afraid of?”

  He thought maybe she’d cower from the question, but she didn’t. “You want to know what I fear? I married a rich man, it’s true, but not before my father worked to make our place in the world. My family wasn’t always wealthy and I’ve seen what happens the minute there’s the mention of money. People change. People you’ve known for years. So why would I think any different of you?”

  “Because I was asking for a sick man who had given you years of loyal service. I wasn’t even asking for myself. And yes, had I known how to get hold of Richard or Sapphire I would have asked them, too.”

  “So you have this perceived hurt and now you want to hurt me, too.”

  Though Ruby was older than George had been, and Richard was right, grief had aged her, she appeared to shrivel before his gaze. Was she turning into the witch he always believed her one step away from being? Why did George Gardener ever marry her? The man was kind. Hard, yes, and shrewd but benevolent. Quality of the sort Ethan saw in Richard. Ethan almost asked but stopped himself. He remembered a time when he’d heard this woman laugh. What had drummed the compassion out of her?

  He shortened everything he asked to a question in one word. “Hurt?”

  “By seducing my son. Trying to take him away from me.”

  Ethan laughed; oddly, the full-throated chuckle made her recoil more than an insult might have. “If you’re at risk of losing your son, it won’t be through anything I’ve done.”

  “You think this is karma.”

  “What?”

  “George dying. You think I deserve this.”

  “No, I don’t. But I find it interesting you bring it up. Sounds to me like your own conscience plaguing you. I’m sorry your husband died. Truly sorry. But he wasn’t the man I knew by then.” Why had she changed him? Why bully the compassion out of him? He thought it but didn’t say it.

  She turned and at last he saw her face. Her lower lip quivered and she looked uncertain. She was suddenly an old woman grieving for the man she loved, and Ethan knew too much about grief.

  “I know what you’re feeling too well. I don’t wish that on you. And for one reason…no, two. Maybe I wouldn’t be so big-hearted if I didn’t know my father would disapprove. He’d have harboured you no ill-will but I couldn’t tell him you denied him help.”

  “And the second?”

  “Because Richard loves you.” Maybe Richard didn’t always like his mother but in too many relationships the two emotions didn’t always manage to go hand in hand. “He wouldn’t want me to feel that way. He wouldn’t want it to haunt me.”

  Ethan wasn’t going to spend his days letting the pain of what this woman had done fester and turn him bitter. “I’ve let it go. I suggest you do the same.”

  “You told Richard.” She sounded scared rather than accusing.

  “I did but only just now and because I had to. I couldn’t lie and I didn’t see a way to avoid it any longer. I wouldn’t have told him at all but there’s been too many accusations floating around this place. Too much avoidance. I’m tired of not owning up to truth. You made your decision for whatever reason you believed and I no longer care. We both have to live with the consequences of how we reacted.”

  Ruby Gardener beat herself up somewhat over what she had done. Staggering to think so but good. He was glad she hurt, couldn’t help the small amount of belligerence that tormented him, but he didn’t want her to waste away like his father had.

  “I was wrong to expect help from anyone.” He wasn’t sure how much he believed that but it was only a sad truth. “It’s not the way the world works. Deal with it and stop punishing yourself.”

  Her gaze drifted back the way he’d come, toward the house, movements jerky, shoulders hunching in tight, eyes overly bright. Her mouth drew in to a tight pucker.

  “What’s got you so worried?”

  That watery gaze snapped around as if she’d forgotten he stood there, blinking rapidly, hands fisting, face ashen.

  “What’s got you so scared?”

  “I don’t want to be alone. I don’t know how.”

  The confession surprised him, shocked her judging by her expression. No doubt she wanted to run, but she stood rooted to the spot, though she lowered her head as if unable to look at him.

  “Then don’t be.” Once she looked up and he had her attention, he went on. “You wanna keep your family, open up to them. Hear them. You got any idea what two amazing children you have? You want to keep your children in your life and find some peace and maybe even a touch of happiness, take my advice. Listen to them. Pay attention to what they have to say about their lives and yours. They know what they’re talking about. Better than you do. Maybe better than me.”

  * * * *

  The brochure felt like a cheap substitute for a life. He’d wanted to share his enthusiasm, to make Ethan excited by the prospect of working on the garden together, of sharing an amazing space…though, it might be too soon for that.

  “So? How’d it go?”

  Took a second for the question to penetrate, though the moment it did, Rich knew he’d look up to see Saffie, gaze expectant, hoping to hear good news. Sure enough, she gripped the door in one hand, head shoved into the room, hair swept high with some strange zigzag strips in her hair and make-up dark, so she looked like performance art.

  “Not well.”

  “Not?” She came into the room. “Why?”

  He held his shoulders high for two or three-seconds before dropping them in defeat. “How should I know? I didn’t get the chance to tell him you want to take over the company.”

  The second proposal. Saffie wanted to run the firm. Not what his mother or his father had in mind but whereas Rich wasn’t interested, Saffie was. Some board members would take convincing, not as they had much of a say, but maybe she shouldn’t go to the meetings sporting this particular look. He’d mention it to her, but not now.

  “But you talked about the rest?”

  “Yes.”

  “About the building project?”

  “Yes.”

  “The plan to try to get Mother to move?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your new house and the garden and the plans you had in the pipeline all the time?”

  “Yes, yes, and yes.”

  “Did you get to the part where you told him you have feelings for him?”

  She stumped him. “What?”

  “You know.” Saffie took exaggerated steps toward him, removed the broch
ure from his hands, and waved it in his face as though cooling him down with it. “Did. You. Tell. Him. You. Love. Him?”

  “I…” Well, no. “Not precisely.” At a roll of her eyes, Rich summoned a little anger. “He didn’t exactly give me a chance.”

  Saffie stood. Stared. Waited.

  “Well, go.” She gestured to the door. “Run after him. This is the right time. Perfect. You’ll never get another moment like this one. Leave it and it’ll…dilute. Trust me.”

  Unsure what his sister knew about relationships, nevertheless, Rich felt the truth of her words. His first movements out of the chair were faltering. He made it halfway across the room, diverted back to the desk, rummaged in the drawer for a sheet of paper and turned to leave. By the time he reached the door, he was running.

  * * * *

  As if dealing with Richard wasn’t bad enough. Ethan had to cross paths with the last person he wanted to see. Still, he shouldn’t have answered her back like that. Couldn’t help himself. With luck, none of what he said would get back to Richard. Hard to tell which of them was the biggest idiot. No one had to lecture Ethan on that score. There were things neither of them were saying. Maybe it was for the best. Some things…once said, were impossible to retract, and one right word and he’d go back on his decision to leave. Live to regret it most like. It was why he’d walked out. Ethan needed to move on. Should have realised sooner. Should have done so the moment his father died. Though he disliked the house, he didn’t have to spend time there. The outside…

  Ethan stood still and breathed in. The world lay dormant around him, but unlike some, he didn’t view it as dead, just sleeping. He’d never hated working here, but every plant carried the ghost of his father, heavy with memories of watching his father choose them, put them in the ground, nurture them. Maybe in time it would be more of a comfort but for now, even a year on, it felt too painful.