‘Pleased to meet you,’ Laurence said, stepping forward to shake Jasmine’s hand. She looked startled by his action and glanced at Tilda as if for direction.
‘This is Marcus’s son,’ Tilda explained.
‘I know who he is,’ Jasmine said, and she walked across the hallway and disappeared into a room, closing the door behind her.
Laurence frowned. ‘Was it something I said? Or didn’t say?’
‘No,’ Tilda said. ‘She’s – she’s just like that. Please don’t think anything of it. She gets a little anxious around strangers, that’s all.’
‘I hear that she’s befriended my father.’
‘Yes,’ Tilda said. ‘She mentioned him to us. Jassy doesn’t make friends easily. Your father must be a pretty special man.’
‘Oh, well, yes,’ Laurence said, feeling temporarily stunned.
‘Listen – I’ve got to make a call. I’ll see you later.’ She left him, going into the same room that Jasmine had disappeared into.
Laurence left the house and walked towards his car. He was pleased that his father had found somebody to talk to, but he couldn’t help feeling a little jealous of Jasmine’s ability to reach his father when he was unable to do so himself.
Chapter 9
It was with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation that Vanessa woke up on the morning when Jonathan and his team were due to arrive. What exactly did one wear to greet such a bunch? she wondered. She wasn’t actually going to be working alongside them and so didn’t need to wear gardening clothes, but she didn’t want to come across all lady of the manor either.
She opened her wardrobe. There to the right were the suits and shirts that had belonged to Oliver. Tilda had helped her sort out a few things to take to a local charity shop about a year after he had died. Vanessa hadn’t been able to think about giving anything away until then and had hung on to a few of his favourite things, like the simple checked shirt in the softest of cottons which had been a favourite of his and the suit with the threadbare elbows. Parting with those would be like parting with Oliver all over again and she stroked the sleeve of the checked shirt now, remembering how handsome he’d looked in it. A real country gentleman.
She closed the wardrobe door. She wasn’t going to find anything in there and so opened a drawer and took out a pair of jeans and a jumper. That would do. Neat but not too posh.
By the time she got washed and dressed and had breakfast, it was ten o’clock. Vanessa had been surprised that Jonathan hadn’t wanted to start earlier in the day, but he told her that his young team weren’t early risers and that he’d failed miserably to enforce earlier starts on them in the past. So, they started at ten and finished at six, with a half-hour lunch break and two tea breaks.
She was looking out of the east window in the morning room when Jonathan’s van pulled up in the lane beside the yew hedge, followed by a minibus. Vanessa watched as Jonathan got out and was soon joined by another man. She assumed this was Rod, the ex-policeman – he looked shorter than she’d expected but had a wiry strength about him. They were quickly joined by four young people and Vanessa gasped at her first sight of them. They were a scruffy-looking bunch, there was no way around it and, if Dolly saw them, she’d have something to say for sure.
Grabbing her waxed jacket and quickly making her way downstairs, Vanessa opened the front door and was there to greet them as they walked up the path towards her. Jonathan was a little way ahead of them and gave her a nod.
‘Good morning,’ she said, glad she’d popped her coat on as there was a keen breeze that counteracted the effects of the spring sunshine.
‘You look worried,’ he told her.
‘I’m not worried.’
‘No? Because you look worried,’ he said with a grin. ‘Come on, I’ll introduce you. They don’t bite. Well, Rod does if he hasn’t had his morning coffee.’
‘Let’s go round to the garden first, shall we?’ Vanessa said, aware that Dolly could appear at a window or a door at any moment.
‘Sure.’
Vanessa led the way, only slightly alarmed by the rough-looking group following in her wake with an assortment of dangerous tools.
Once in the walled garden, she turned to face Jonathan.
‘Okay, let me introduce you,’ he said. ‘First of all, this is Rod. Rod, this is Mrs Jacobs.’
Rod held out a hand towards her. He looked to be in his mid-fifties, and his eyes were tiny slits in his face as if he were permanently squinting, but there was something about him that Vanessa liked immediately.
‘Pleased to meet you,’ he said.
‘Call me Vanessa.’
He nodded. ‘Nice place you have here. Very nice.’
‘Thank you.’
He nodded again, and took a step back as if to signal he was done talking and was ready to work.
‘Everyone – listen up!’ Jonathan said to the others, who were having a little conversation of their own by this stage. ‘This is our host, Vanessa Jacobs. She’s kindly said we can use her walled garden and I think you’ll agree that it’s the nicest site we’ve ever been given permission to work in.’
The group of four eyed her warily but didn’t say anything.
‘This is Nat,’ Jonathan said, indicating a young lad of no more than twenty to his right. He was tall and skinny and wearing ripped jeans and an old T-shirt under a leather jacket.
Vanessa nodded him a hello.
‘And Austin,’ Jonathan continued, nodding towards a lad who looked a little older than Nat. ‘Everyone calls him Oz.’
‘Hello, Oz,’ Vanessa said.
He grunted a response at her and looked down at his trainers, which were absolutely filthy even before he’d begun work.
‘And this is Michael. He’s known as Fingers. I’m not sure why.’
There was some surreptitious laughter from the group.
‘We probably don’t want to know why,’ Jonathan added. ‘And this is Jenna. Our one and only girl.’
Vanessa looked at the young woman. She was thin and pale and had long hair that had obviously been dyed blonde at some stage, but which had long since grown out, leaving great black roots on display. The thing that struck Vanessa was how much Jenna reminded her of Tilda. Perhaps it was the fineness of her hair or her sharp cheekbones, but how very different her background must be, Vanessa thought, swallowing hard and trying to imagine the sort of life that this girl must have had.
‘Hello, Jenna,’ Vanessa said with a smile.
Jenna didn’t smile back; she nodded and then she whispered something to Jonathan.
‘She wants to know if there’s a toilet,’ he said.
‘Oh, yes,’ Vanessa said. ‘If you go towards the oast house, there’s a building just after it with a toilet and sink. You’re welcome to use that. There’s also a worktop and socket too, so you can plug in a kettle.’
Jenna made to leave, but Jonathan stopped her.
‘We’ll all go together,’ he told her and the rest of the group. ‘Make sure you all know where it is and that you don’t go poking around anywhere else. Don’t forget that this is somebody’s home.’
Vanessa led the way out of the walled garden.
‘Oz, put that fag out,’ Jonathan said.
‘But we’re outside,’ Oz said.
‘You know the rules – no smoking on site.’
‘But it gives me energy.’
‘That’s rubbish and you know it,’ Jonathan said.
The lad muttered something unsavoury under his breath, and Vanessa caught Jonathan’s eye and he shook his head as if in despair.
‘We try and promote all things healthy whilst they’re here with us,’ he whispered to Vanessa. ‘Good wholesome food, no alcohol or cigarettes – that kind of thing. You should have heard the stink when I first told them that cola was banned too.’
Vanessa smiled. ‘I can understand that. I’m partial to a can myself.’
‘You’re joking? It’s disgusting stuff.’ He shook
his head again.
‘I’m going to side with your team on this one!’ she teased.
‘Is this, like, really your house?’ Jenna interrupted.
‘It is,’ Vanessa said. ‘It’s my husband’s family’s home. It’s belonged to the Jacobs family for generations.’
‘It’s huge,’ Jenna cried. ‘Do you ever get lost in it?’
‘I did when I first moved here,’ Vanessa said. ‘But you quickly learn.’
The girl’s eyes widened as if she’d never seen anything like it in her life.
‘And what’s that building?’ Jenna asked, noticing the oast house.
‘It’s an oast house.’
The girl looked none the wiser.
‘You must have seen them around the countryside, Jenna?’ Jonathan said.
She shrugged. ‘No.’
‘They were used for drying hops during the brewing process,’ Vanessa said.
‘Making beer,’ Jonathan elaborated.
‘Oh, cool,’ Jenna said.
‘Not many of them are used for that purpose anymore. Most are private homes and ours is used by my daughter as an artist’s studio,’ Vanessa said, stopping outside an old brick and tile-hung building. ‘Well, this is it.’ She opened the door and flipped a switch, showing them the small sink and toilet. Jenna went in and, when she came out, Jonathan spoke to the rest of the team.
‘If you lads need the loo, go now, okay? We don’t want you sloping off behind a tree like you did at Mrs Pilcher’s. It isn’t any wonder she didn’t invite us back.’
Nat quickly disappeared inside.
‘Do you have everything you need?’ Vanessa asked once they’d returned to the walled garden.
‘I think so, thank you,’ Jonathan said.
‘So, what are your plans for today?’
‘I thought we’d have a good warm-up by removing some of these perennial weeds and digging over the raised beds.’
‘Sounds great. Well, I guess I’ll leave you to it.’
Jonathan nodded and gave her that smile of his which seemed to reach inside her and banish the blues away. It felt like a long time since a man had smiled at her like that and she had to admit that she rather liked it.
Vanessa returned to the house and made herself a cup of tea and then settled to work in the south wing’s smallest room, which functioned as her office. Although ‘office’ was too grand a word for a space that was really just a glorified dumping ground for rolls of material, stacks of paint pots and an assortment of old pieces of furniture she’d picked up over the years, intent on breathing new life into them. But this was Vanessa’s own place in a house which she was constantly being reminded wasn’t her own. It was one room in which Dolly would not interrupt her and Vanessa felt safely cocooned, surrounding herself with her beautiful fabrics, mood boards and notebooks.
She’d recently started working with a newly married couple who’d moved into one of the big Georgian houses in Elhurst. It was a stunning property, but it was a tad dated with its swirling patterned carpets and wallpaper from a particularly gaudy period in the 1970s. The couple, Geoffrey and Elouise, wanted a total makeover and had the sort of eye-watering budget that made Vanessa pant with envy. So, it was all fabrics from Zoffany and paint from Farrow and Ball.
But, as much as Vanessa adored the little worlds she was creating for each of their rooms, she just couldn’t seem to settle down to anything knowing that Jonathan and his team were in the garden. How were things going out there? she wondered, tapping the end of her pencil against her chin. She was desperate to know and so put her sketches down and returned outside. It was much too nice a day to stay cooped up anyway. It had been a particularly long winter and, now that the days were getting longer and the borders were colouring up with tulips and irises, it would be a crime to stay indoors.
‘Well, that’s my excuse anyway,’ she said to herself as she made her way to the walled garden. She soon saw that the team were at the far end and hadn’t noticed her, so she got a chance to study them. Rod and Oz were tackling a large area choked up with nettles. They were both wearing heavy-duty gloves and were really putting their backs into it. Jonathan and the rest of the team were all wielding forks and spades as they cleared an area surrounding one of the raised beds. It was weed city there and, once again, Vanessa felt a surge of guilt that things had become so very overgrown.
‘Can I help with anything?’ she asked as she approached them. Jonathan turned around.
‘I didn’t expect to see you again.’
She shrugged, suddenly feeling awkward at being there. Perhaps they didn’t want her interfering.
‘I thought you could use another pair of hands.’
Jonathan leaned on his fork. ‘We can always use another pair of hands. You really want to help?’
‘I have done this before, you know.’
‘I believe you,’ he said.
Jenna had turned around and was watching the pair of them.
‘Hey, get back to work, you,’ Jonathan told her. She grinned at him, but did as she was told.
‘So, where do I start?’
Jonathan eyed her warily as she took off her jacket. ‘Is that cashmere?’ he asked, nodding to her jumper.
‘Oh, it’s very old,’ she told him. ‘I was going to wear a sweatshirt I had, but Mrs Carstairs came round collecting for the homeless last week and I gave it to her.’
Jonathan shook his head. ‘Come with me.’
‘Where are we going?’
She followed him out of the walled garden and around the side of the house. Arriving at his van, he opened the back door and pulled out a large red-and-black checked shirt.
‘Here, try this on.’
She took it from him and put it on over her cashmere jumper. It was fleece-lined and wonderfully cosy.
‘Fit okay?’
‘It’s a bit big.’
‘You can roll the sleeves up.’
‘I really don’t need to wear it. I’m perfectly fine in my own jumper.’
‘It’s much too good a one to risk damaging. Come on.’
He led the way back to the walled garden and she followed. He then handed her his fork and nodded down at the earth.
‘I think you can see what needs doing.’
‘Oh yes,’ she said. ‘Everything.’
‘Basically.’
So she got digging. At first, she had to admit to it all feeling rather alien. She was far more used to wielding a pencil than a garden fork these days. It had been many years since she had dug over these beds and her body had forgotten what it was like but, as the morning progressed, she got into her stride and made a real contribution.
‘You’re doing well,’ Jonathan told her when break time approached.
‘Don’t sound so surprised,’ she replied.
‘Join us for a cup of tea?’
She nodded and the group made their way to the little outbuilding. Rod immediately took charge and plugged in a kettle that he’d brought with him, and Jonathan put out a selection of old chipped mugs and teaspoons.
‘The travelling tea caddy,’ he said, pointing to the plastic box Rod had brought in from the minibus. ‘Seen all sorts of action, hasn’t it, team?’
‘Make sure you’ve all washed your hands,’ Rod shouted above the kettle. ‘Especially you, Oz. I know where your hands have been this morning.’
‘God, you’re like a drill sergeant,’ Oz said.
‘You could do with one of those, my lad,’ Rod told him.
Oz shook his head and Vanessa did her best to suppress a giggle at the exchange.
‘Hope you’ve still got my mug,’ Jenna said.
‘It’s right there,’ Jonathan told her, picking up the mug with the teddy bear on the front. Jenna took it from him as if afraid somebody else might grab it. ‘Very protective of her mug is our Jenna.’
‘I don’t want to be drinking out of any of your mugs,’ she said. ‘I don’t know where you’ve all been.’
‘Yeah, well we don’t know where you’ve been,’ Oz argued.
‘I can guess,’ Nat said, and Jenna elbowed him in the ribs.
‘Ouch!’ he cried.
Vanessa smiled as she studied the group. She couldn’t help but wonder what their backgrounds were and what had happened to them all. She looked at Jonathan, hoping she could find out. He looked up from making the tea and caught her eye.
‘Have you got a minute?’ she asked.
‘Sure.’ He motioned to a sky-blue mug.
‘Black, no sugar,’ she said.
He sploshed some milk into his own mug and took them outside, handing hers over.
Once Vanessa was quite sure that the group couldn’t hear them, she began.
‘I’d love to know more about everyone,’ she said.
‘What do you want to know?’
Vanessa shrugged. ‘What can you tell me?’
Jonathan sighed. ‘They’re a mixed bunch and we haven’t got everyone here today of course. Let me see. Michael there, he’s the youngest of six children and has been in and out of foster homes all his life. He once told me that his biological father was a drunk and used to beat him.’
‘Oh, God!’
‘Yep. Imagine growing up like that. With Nat, it was his mother who was the problem. She was in and out of prison and he had a succession of carers. Aunts, uncles . . . One time, he and his siblings were left to fend for themselves for two months. Nat was the eldest and he was only thirteen.’
‘How awful,’ Vanessa said.
‘Oz was expelled from his first school when he was nine. He’s pretty much been in trouble ever since, but I’m sure there’s a heart of gold in there somewhere. We’ve just got to dig a bit to find it. And then there’s Andy and Ryan, who aren’t here today. They just fell in with the wrong crowd. Andy’s got such promise, though. He’s really smart and a good worker when he puts his mind to it.’
‘And Jenna?’
‘Broken home. Her mum died young and her dad never really cared about her. She’s been living with friends since leaving school.’
‘That’s sad. To have no real family. I can’t imagine what that’s like.’
Love in an English Garden Page 10