‘What do you feel, Grandma?’
There was a pause before she answered. ‘Alone,’ she said at last.
Jassy didn’t understand. ‘But you’re not alone.’
‘But I feel it. Sometimes. When I’m sitting here in this room, looking out of the window and remembering the past. My husband and my son.’ She paused again. ‘Both gone.’
‘But we’re still here – you have me and Mum and Tilda.’
‘I know.’
Jassy saw that her grandmother’s eyes seemed brighter than usual and realised that there were tears swimming in them.
‘Oh, Grandma! Don’t cry! I didn’t mean to make you cry!’ Jassy was up on her feet, Reynolds dropped unceremoniously to the floor.
‘You didn’t, darling. I’m just being silly.’
Jassy knelt on the floor by her chair, head in Dolly’s lap.
‘I hate it when people are sad. Marcus is sad about something and he won’t tell me what it is. I’ve asked him and I think painting is helping him, but there’s something he’s not telling me.’
‘Some people find it hard to talk. They’re not all as open as you are,’ Dolly said as she stroked Jassy’s hair.
‘I guess.’ She looked up into her grandma’s face.
‘When your father died,’ Dolly began, ‘I felt as if a little piece of me had died with him.’
‘I felt like that too.’
‘I know you did, Jassy.’
‘I couldn’t stop crying.’
‘I cried too.’
‘Did you?’
Dolly nodded. ‘Oh, yes!’
‘But I never saw you cry.’
She took a deep breath. ‘I didn’t want you to. I didn’t want anybody to. I thought things might change around here and that your mother – well – that she wouldn’t want me living here anymore.’
Jassy gasped. ‘You thought she’d throw you out?’
‘Perhaps.’
‘But she’d never do that.’
A resigned look settled on Dolly’s face. ‘Jasmine, your mother and I have never seen eye to eye.’
‘I know, but that doesn’t mean she’d make you homeless! I mean, where would you go if you didn’t live here? This is your home!’
‘Yes, I know that now. I was just going through a strange time. I wasn’t thinking straight. I felt . . . vulnerable, alone.’
‘But that’s silly!’
Dolly gave a little laugh. ‘Yes.’
‘Because you have us. Your family.’ Jassy got up and kissed her cheek. ‘Oh, Grandma – you’re crying again!’
‘Tears of happiness, Jasmine. I’m happy. Really I am!’
Jassy shook her head. She would never ever understand grown-ups.
The next morning was fine and bright. A languid summer mist filled the valley, promising yet another hot day.
Vanessa moved around the garden slowly, carefully, her eyes darting across the borders in search of the perfect blooms. She picked pink and red roses, snipping them cleanly with sharp secateurs; vivid-blue love-in-a-mist followed, and multicoloured sweet peas, lavender and sprigs of mint for a wondrous scent to lift the mood, all set off by the lovely acid-green of lady’s mantle. She placed them all in a galvanised bucket filled with chilled water. It was a routine she’d gone through many times and one she never failed to find great joy in, but this bunch of flowers was different. This bunch was for a very special person.
Taking her flower-filled bucket into the house, Vanessa arranged the blooms and foliage with an eye she had trained herself from years of homemade displays. When she was happy with her creation, she tied it with jute string so that it was a manageable handheld bouquet which could be placed easily into a vase without giving the owner a panic attack.
She was just about to leave the house when Dolly entered the room.
‘Are those for Jenna?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ Vanessa said without looking at her mother-in-law. A moment later, she heard Dolly shuffling back out of the room and she breathed a sigh of relief that the encounter had been blissfully brief. They hadn’t spoken since the outburst in the morning room the day before, although Jassy had told her that she’d been in to apologise to her grandmother.
‘She said she deserved it,’ Jassy had reported back.
‘Really?’ Vanessa had said.
Jassy had nodded. ‘She didn’t say sorry in so many words, but I think she is sorry.’
Vanessa wasn’t so sure about that. Dolly was probably sorry that she’d been humiliated, that was all.
Before she knew it, Dolly was back in the kitchen.
‘Give this to Jenna for me, will you?’ She held her hand out to Vanessa, unfolding it to reveal a gold necklace with a daisy pendant hanging from it.
‘Isn’t this the necklace you thought you’d lost?’ Vanessa asked. ‘Wasn’t the jewellery box missing?’
‘Oh, that was me forgetting where I’d put it,’ Dolly said as if it was no big deal. She had no idea that it had caused Vanessa to doubt Jonathan’s team and now Vanessa felt terrible that the thought had entered her mind.
‘But Oliver gave you this,’ Vanessa said, turning her mind back to the necklace and remembering the very day her husband had given Dolly the present.
‘He gave me many things,’ Dolly said. ‘Many things I will treasure until I die.’
Vanessa stared hard at the old woman standing before her.
‘But I thought you said Jenna was no good,’ she said as she placed the necklace carefully in her jacket pocket. ‘That she was trouble.’
‘I’ve said a lot of things,’ Dolly said. ‘A lot of things I regret.’ She looked directly into Vanessa’s eyes. ‘I only hope it’s not too late.’
‘Too late?’
‘To b – be . . . to make . . .’ Her voice petered out as she stumbled over her words. ‘You know what I’m trying to say.’
‘No, I don’t,’ Vanessa said, not wanting to let Dolly take the easy way out, not after all the years she’d suffered under her.
‘I’m trying to say sorry,’ Dolly blurted.
Vanessa had guessed that that was what her mother-in-law had been trying to say, or had hoped it was at least. She’d been waiting for an apology from Dolly for years now for the way she’d treated her but, now that the moment had actually come, she wasn’t sure how to respond.
‘What Jasmine said – it hurt me,’ Dolly continued. ‘It hurt me to realise that I’d hurt her by—’
‘Hurting me?’
Dolly nodded.
‘Well, you have,’ Vanessa said. ‘Over and over again. I’ve tried to be friends with you, Dolly. I really have.’
‘I know,’ she whispered.
‘But you threw that friendship back in my face.’
‘You took my son!’ Dolly suddenly cried.
‘No I didn’t! I married him. He was still here, living under your roof. You saw him every single day. That’s more than most mothers can hope for.’ She paused. She didn’t want to turn this into yet another fight. She wasn’t even sure she had any more fight in her. So she took a deep breath. ‘You did want him to marry, didn’t you?’ she asked gently. ‘And to have a family of his own? You don’t hate having granddaughters, do you?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Well, granddaughters need a mother, and I’m it! I’m the one your son chose and you’re stuck with me because I’m not going anywhere.’
They stared at one another a moment longer before Vanessa turned her back on Dolly and moved across to the sink.
‘I wouldn’t want you to go anywhere,’ Dolly said.
‘Pardon?’
‘I said I wouldn’t want you to go anywhere.’
‘Well, I’m not,’ Vanessa said, turning around.
‘Good!’ Dolly said, and Vanessa caught the beginnings of a tiny smile on the old lady’s face before she shuffled out of the kitchen.
‘Oh, and tell Jenna she’s not allowed to sell it!’ Dolly said over her shoulder.
‘Sell what?’ Vanessa asked.
‘The necklace!’
Vanessa smiled. What with Dolly’s unexpected apology, she’d totally forgotten about the necklace.
Vanessa had left Orley a few minutes later. She’d spoken to Jonathan on the phone the night before and he’d given her an update on Jenna. She was doing well and, after several examinations, had been told she could go home if she had somebody to stay with her to keep an eye on her. They believed that this was an isolated experience brought on by emotional trauma and that, all being well, Jenna wouldn’t attempt to overdose again.
Vanessa told Jonathan she’d call round and he’d given her the address.
‘I’m sure she’d love to see you,’ he’d said. Vanessa hoped so.
Jenna lived on a small housing estate on the outskirts of Hastings that was easy enough to find. Parking her car, Vanessa got out, lifting the bouquet – which had scented the car beautifully on its journey – from the backseat and approached the front door of number thirty-seven.
A young woman with scarlet hair opened the door.
‘Oh, hello,’ Vanessa said. ‘I’m looking for Jenna.’
‘I’m Sally, Jenna’s friend. Come in.’
‘How is she?’
‘She’s quiet. Really quiet. Which isn’t like her. But she’s eating.’
‘Well, that’s a good sign.’
‘It is, isn’t it?’ Sally agreed. ‘Come in. She’s upstairs. I’ll get her for you.’
Sally led Vanessa through to a small living room with a shabby sofa and a wonky table.
‘Okay for a minute?’
Vanessa nodded.
‘What lovely flowers,’ Sally said as she left the room. ‘Jenna will love them.’
Vanessa smiled, listening as Sally climbed the stairs. She then took a moment to look around the room, noting the peeling wallpaper, the threadbare carpet and the lack of things. There really wasn’t very much in there. It looked as if Jenna had perhaps just moved in and her possessions hadn’t yet arrived, or else she’d very recently had a huge garage sale in the pursuit of minimalism.
One thing Vanessa did notice was a strip of passport photos on a little shelf. She picked them up and saw Jenna with a handsome young man with dirty blond hair and an irrepressible smile. Was this the boyfriend who had caused so much trouble?
‘Carl?’ she whispered to the photo strip in an accusatory tone. ‘Do you know how much damage that smile of yours has done?’
She put the photos down and caught sight of a pile of books on the wonky coffee table. With the instinct of a true bibliophile, she moved towards them and saw that they were all gardening books from the local library. She smiled as she noticed a small notepad and half-chewed pen beside them. Her intuition had been right with Jenna: she was keen to learn.
‘Vanessa?’
Vanessa jumped and looked up to see Jenna coming into the room. The girl looked genuinely surprised to see her there.
‘Hello, Jenna,’ she said with a big smile, noticing how pale she looked, as if half of her blood had been drained from her. ‘I wanted to bring you these.’ She handed her the bunch of flowers.
‘Wow – they’re really beautiful.’
‘I thought I’d bring Orley to you today.’
‘Thanks. Nobody . . .’
‘What?’
‘Nobody’s ever been this kind to me before.’
‘It’s nothing more than you deserve,’ Vanessa told her. ‘Shall I put them in a vase for you?’
Jenna frowned. ‘We don’t have a vase.’
Vanessa did her best to hide her surprise. She couldn’t imagine a house without a vase.
‘I’ll look in the kitchen for something.’ She walked through to the tiny kitchen, noting the stack of dishes that hadn’t been washed and the old linoleum floor which felt sticky under her shoes.
That’s when she saw the large tin barrel. It had once held biscuits – the sort people buy in bulk at Christmas – and she removed the lid to discover the end of a woebegone custard cream, which she promptly threw in the bin. She then washed out the crumbs and filled the tin with water, checking it was watertight.
‘Have you any sugar, Jenna?’
‘You want a cup of tea?’
‘No. It’s for the flowers.’
‘Oh. Check the cupboard above the cooker.’
Vanessa did so and found a crusty packet of sugar that had partially solidified. She gave it a bash on the worktop and swirled a teaspoon’s worth into the tin of water before placing the flowers into it. It looked less than satisfactory to Vanessa, who was used to fine china and cut crystal, but the flowers still looked glorious, if a little indignant.
She took them through to the living room and placed them on the table alongside the library books.
‘I see you’re reading about gardening.’
‘Trying to,’ Jenna said, ‘but there’s a lot of funny long words in them books.’
‘Latin?’
Jenna frowned. ‘What’s that?’
‘It’s an ancient language that’s used to classify plants. It can be very confusing, but you get used to it. Luckily plants have common names too. They’re the ones we tend to use.’
‘Thank goodness for that!’
Vanessa smiled. ‘When I first moved to Orley, I didn’t know anything about plants. I’d always had a garden growing up, but the garden at Orley only made me realise how very little I knew. It seems like such a daunting job, but you just have to break it down and learn the garden one plant at a time.’
Jenna sat down on the sofa and Vanessa joined her. ‘You make it sound so easy.’
‘It can be if you really enjoy it. I think if you have a passion for something, it doesn’t seem like hard work.’
Jenna nodded as if understanding. ‘I read in one of them books that there’s an old country custom of testing to see if the soil’s warm enough for planting.’
‘And how do they do that?’
‘By sitting on the soil with your bare bum.’
Vanessa laughed and Jenna joined in. It was good to hear her laugh again.
‘Well, we don’t do that at Orley,’ Vanessa assured her.
‘I’m glad to hear it, although I’m sure Oz would give it a go!’
They laughed again and Sally popped her head around the door.
‘I’m just nipping to the shop. Do we need anything?’
‘Chocolate,’ Jenna said. ‘Oh, and bread probably.’
‘You got it.’
They listened to the door close and it was then that Vanessa remembered Dolly’s necklace and reached into her jacket pocket.
‘Dolly wanted me to give you something.’
‘Oh?’
Vanessa handed her the daisy necklace on the gold chain and Jenna gasped.
‘She gave this – to me?’
‘Yes.’
‘To keep?’
‘Well, of course to keep!’
‘But I don’t deserve it.’
Vanessa placed a hand on Jenna’s arm. ‘Of course you do. There are a lot of people who really care about you, Jenna. You’re special and we look forward to your days at Orley more than you can possibly know. In fact, I can’t imagine the place without you now.’
Jenna gave a weak smile and tears shone in her eyes.
‘Oh,’ Vanessa added, ‘Dolly told me to tell you not to sell it.’
Jenna looked genuinely shocked. ‘I wouldn’t! Not ever.’
‘I know! I think she was just being cheeky.’
‘I’ll treasure it forever,’ she said. ‘Will you put it on for me, please?’
‘Of course.’
Jenna handed the necklace to Vanessa and then lifted her hair from her neck.
‘There you go,’ Vanessa said once she’d fastened the necklace.
‘I love it.’
‘It looks beautiful on you.’
‘Thank her for me, won’t you?’
‘You can thank her yourself wh
en you next come to Orley.’
‘You want me back?’
‘Of course we want you back! Why would you even ask that?’
‘Because I feel like I’ve let everyone down.’
‘Oh, my dear girl! You haven’t let anyone down. You’ve just gone through something really horrible – something nobody should ever have to go through. But we’re all here for you. You know that, don’t you? Tilda and Jassy send their love and I know Jonathan can’t wait to get you out into the garden again.’
‘I know. He said he needs my help in the greenhouse. The tomatoes are running riot.’
‘Exactly! You’re needed, Jenna. Never forget that.’ Vanessa squeezed her arm. ‘So, how are you feeling? I mean really feeling?’
Jenna sniffed. ‘Everybody keeps asking that.’
‘And what do you tell them?’
‘What they want to hear. That I’m okay. That I won’t do it again.’
‘And is that the truth?’
Jenna looked up at her with bright, tear-filled eyes. ‘I feel a bit lost.’
‘Oh, Jenna!’ Vanessa wrapped her arms around the girl and pulled her close as she cried. She wasn’t sure how long they sat like that on the old sofa together, but Vanessa wasn’t leaving until Jenna was all cried out.
‘You know, when my husband died, I hit the very depths of despair. I didn’t think I was ever going to get through that darkness. He was my soulmate, my one true love. I didn’t think life was worth living without him.’
‘Did you try to kill yourself?’
‘No,’ Vanessa said, releasing Jenna from her embrace as the girl began to calm down. ‘But I was living a kind of death for a while. My daughters got me through it, reminding me that I had every reason to live. They used to take me into the garden, leading me by the hand like a child, and show me what was growing and the little things that needed doing. They’d leave my special trowel out in the hallway and line up my boots next to it.’ She gave a little laugh as she remembered. ‘I slowly found my way back into the world of the living and I’m so glad I did because look what was waiting for me.’
Love in an English Garden Page 27