The Garden of Little Rose

by Suzanne Snow

  ‘Looks like you two are doing more leaning than digging,’ she told the two men, shifting her head to include Tamsin in the gesture. ‘The spades won’t work unless you actually push them into the soil. Would you like me to show you how to do it?’

  Mac laughed and she saw the other man smile at her playful tone.

  ‘Come and meet Lewis,’ Mac said, holding out his arm. ‘Then we’ll do some work, I promise. Lewis is a cousin of Tamsin’s somewhere down the line, don’t ask me where.’ He hesitated for a moment before continuing, casting a quick glance down at the little girl at his side, who was listening to every word. ‘He and I spent quite a lot of the school holidays mucking about together on the island.’

  ‘Hi,’ Flora greeted him warmly, shaking his hand. ‘I’m Flora. It’s lovely to meet you.’

  ‘I know who you are,’ Lewis told her, his eyes twinkling as they met Flora’s. He was a couple of inches smaller than Mac and a bit younger but of a much broader build, with brown eyes and untidy hair, chopped into uneven lengths that didn’t show much preoccupation with styling. Lewis crunched her fingers between his and Flora tried not to wince at what passed for his handshake. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you, and I saw you at the ceilidh the other night, dancing with this fella.’

  ‘Oh!’ Flora was startled, wondering exactly what Lewis knew about her and who was responsible for telling him. Mac looked uncomfortable for a moment, as Lewis carried on in the same cheerful tone, his local accent very different to Mac’s more urban one.

  ‘All good, I swear. Mac’s been going on about your brilliance to anyone who’ll listen and then Tamsin came over after school the other day and told me about your visit. I think she’s pretty excited to be working with you today.’

  Now Flora was completely astonished, and she crouched down to speak to Tamsin, who was watching her silently but with interest. ‘I’ve got something for you,’ she told Tamsin, unable to subdue her excitement. ‘Do you remember those sweet peas we found here the other day?’ A nod. ‘I’ve got some pink ones for you. They’re still very small and you’ll have to look after them to make them flower. Do you think you can do that, if I show you how?’ Another nod and then Tamsin smiled for a second, her eyes huge.

  ‘Thank you.’

  A faint whisper but precious words nevertheless, and Flora had to gulp down the lump that formed in her throat and she stood up slowly, still looking at Tamsin. ‘Shall we leave your cousin and Mac to do some work out here, and we’ll go and explore with the others in the polytunnel?’

  She held out her hand, uncertain whether Tamsin would accept it or not, and felt another rush of emotion when the little girl slipped her fingers between hers, and Flora squeezed them gently. She spoke to the two men, her tone brisk to disguise the tears threatening to betray her. ‘We’ll be back later to see how you’re doing, okay?’

  Mac grinned, already turning away, as Lewis shoved his large boot down onto the spade and it slid effortlessly into the ground. Flora led the little girl back to the polytunnel and they joined the others, carefully working their way through the mess, storing everything they could save and making piles of rubbish to be taken away. Throughout, Flora was aware that Tamsin barely left her side and she made sure to include her in everything she did, without demanding too much of her. Flora was careful to divide her attention between the others, too, and offer explanations that she shared amongst her group.

  Bonnie was there with her mum and she stuck close to Tamsin, too, and Flora appreciated how the older girl took care of the younger one. Before long it was time to stop for lunch and Flora was really pleased by the progress they were making. It was clearly going to take more than one day to turn the space into a proper garden, but it was certainly looking more promising. She had been called away a few times to go and identify a weed or a plant, or decide whether something should be dumped or saved, and each time Tamsin had followed her solemnly, until Flora was automatically checking to make sure she was beside her. She had a little shadow and she loved spending time with her. Tamsin had spoken to her a couple of times – quiet little words that fell from her lips – and each time Flora had paused her work to listen, appreciating the effort that the little girl had made to communicate.

  Outside, the ground was gradually being turned over and weeds removed, and Flora planned to swap people around, so they wouldn’t get too tired or stuck with the same job all day. The mist had cleared to reveal a lovely sunny day and she was distracted by the view down to the sea for a moment, loving how the light played on the water and the expanse of clear, white sand. Maggie had arranged for lunch to be delivered and at twelve thirty a car turned up, loaded with plenty of sandwiches, fruit and salad that everyone devoured with relish, settling into a big circle on the ground in the sunlight. More tea was brewed, cold drinks handed around, and a couple of huge, home-made cakes were sliced up and gone in moments. Flora sat down with her sandwich and, as Tamsin was still with her, she was soon joined by Mac and Lewis. Flora tried not to let her imagination run away as her eyes flickered over Mac, who was eating his lunch hungrily and chatting easily with the people around him.

  They relaxed for a while, letting their lunch settle, before Flora stood up and reorganised the teams for the next shift. Mac and Lewis were happy to load the truck with rubbish, and Flora watched them go. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw Mac pull off his hoodie, revealing a plain grey T-shirt that clung to the width of his shoulders and stretched over his chest. She looked away hastily, glancing down to see Tamsin’s eyes on her, and she smiled blandly.

  ‘Shall we go and repot your plants?’

  Tamsin nodded eagerly and they made their way back to the polytunnel. Soon, Tamsin had gloves on, her hands wriggling through compost as she filled new pots and carefully lifted the seedlings into them. When they were done, Flora showed her how to water them and they left them safely on a bench, ready for Tamsin to take home later.

  Flora called a halt at four o’clock, aware that everyone had worked hard and was beginning to tire after a very physical day and the remaining children were becoming bored. Most of the soil had been turned over and weeded, the raised beds mended, and the polytunnel made ready to be cleaned. She called everyone together to thank them and say good night, standing by the gate to offer individual praise, as people left for home. Finally, it was just her and Maggie, Mac, Lewis and Tamsin, and she dropped onto one of the benches with a yawn. Tamsin settled down beside her, the tray of seedlings nearby, and Flora smiled at her. Maggie had disappeared into the school to replace the tea things and lock up, as Mac threw a final bag of rubbish into the truck.

  Lewis crouched down next to Tamsin and tapped a gentle finger on her knee. ‘Tamsin? I think it’s time for me to take you home now, don’t you? Your nanna will wonder where we’ve got to. I bet you’re tired and I’m ready for a shower.’

  Tamsin shot a glance at Mac as he joined them, the hoodie in his hands. She hopped off the bench and trotted briskly over to him, tugging his arm. Flora watched as he bent down to listen to what she was whispering to him.

  ‘I’m sure it will be fine,’ Mac was saying, looking at Tamsin lovingly. ‘Shall we ask her?’

  The little girl nodded and then pulled Mac back to Flora, who was still enjoying the sun on her bench. She was looking at Maggie in the distance, who had gone down to the beach now with her terrier.

  ‘Flora, I hope you don’t mind,’ Mac said, squeezing Tamsin’s hand. ‘Tamsin was hoping you would show her the garden at Róisín, sometime before you have to leave? She’d really love to see it with you.’

  Flora laughed, cross with herself for not suggesting it before now. She knew that whatever Tamsin wanted, she would do her very best to make it happen. ‘Absolutely,’ she replied. ‘Do you like exploring? There’s lots of secret places I can show you. We could do it on Monday, if you’re not already busy, as Maggie’s told me there’s no school then.’

  Tamsin’s smile was widening into something very close
to a giggle and Flora looked up to Mac as he spoke. ‘If that’s okay with you? I’ll need to check with Tamsin’s grandparents but I’m sure it will be fine. How about the morning?’

  They finalised the plans to meet and then Lewis left with Tamsin, holding her hand as they began the walk back home. At the last moment, the little girl turned around to wave and Flora waved back merrily. She walked to her car with Mac beside her, unlocking the boot to throw her dirty gloves inside and change her boots. Mac was still hovering and she glanced around the car park for his Audi, seeing no sign of it.

  ‘Would you like a lift?’ she asked him casually, opening her door and waiting for his reply.

  He hesitated, apparently undecided, then stretched and the tension in his expression quickly disappeared. ‘Thanks. It’s been a rough day, all that digging and shifting for a terrible taskmaster, and I’m exhausted now.’

  ‘You lightweight,’ she retorted as they climbed in the car together and she started the engine. ‘If that’s all it takes to wear you out then you’re not half the man I thought you were.’

  He laughed at her teasing and Flora blushed as she turned out of the car park, hoping he would read no more into her comment than she had intended. She drove slowly along the road beside the coast. A few other people were out enjoying the late afternoon sun, strolling along the beach, and she noticed a couple of riders cantering through the surf. It all seemed so relaxed and carefree, a long way from her real life back on the mainland.

  Mac tried to disguise a yawn, one hand covering his mouth. ‘See, I told you I was tired!’ He stretched his long legs as far as he could in the small footwell of her car. ‘I did a bit of research last night.’

  Flora reached for her sunglasses as they left the small hamlet behind and headed out into the country. ‘So did I. You go first.’

  ‘I started looking at Rupert Lassiter. Would you be surprised if I told you he had three sons and the eldest was called Archie?’

  ‘Oh, that’s amazing,’ Flora exclaimed, her head swivelling round and seeing the pleasure on Mac’s face. ‘Of course! Rupert Lassiter was a guest at Rose’s engagement party! He must have been there as her future father-in-law.’

  ‘That’s what I thought, too. Lassiter and Fraser Campbell had apparently been friends since they were at school, so it makes sense that their families spent time together here and knew each other well, if she was Campbell’s daughter. You remember how Rose’s journal ended suddenly, in 1915?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘I found out that Archie Lassiter was killed at the Second Battle of Ypres, in May 1915, when he was nineteen. It looks like Rose stopped writing the journal after he died, unless we come across another one that she wrote later.’

  Flora’s face fell, clouding with sorrow as she thought of the joy and love, hope and promise that she and Mac had discovered in the pages of Rose’s book. ‘That’s utterly tragic,’ she said wretchedly, feeling as though they had lost the young couple almost at the same moment they had discovered them. ‘How awful. She must have been bereft.’

  He nodded; his sympathy reflected in his gentler tone as he continued the story. ‘Rose was mentioned briefly with Archie on the page I found online, presumably because she was his fiancé and connected to the Lassiters. There was no mention of her own family or official announcement of their engagement. It said she had been a talented and promising young artist but that’s all, and it fits with what we saw of her sketches in the journal. I’m wondering if she stopped painting after Archie died?’

  ‘Oh, I hope not. She was so gifted.’ Flora was still thinking about the young couple, so exuberantly and passionately in love, and yet destined never to spend a long life together. She heard the softness in Mac’s voice when he spoke again.

  ‘What did you find out?’

  Flora sighed, thinking over what she had learned after spending the evening alone in her room, hunting for information online, thoughts of Rose, her extraordinary garden and Archie tumbling through her mind. ‘That there definitely wasn’t a third child or second daughter. Caroline was the only girl, and her middle name was Rose. Did you know that Róisín means “little rose”, in Gaelic?’

  Flora noticed Mac’s astonished expression. ‘No, I had no idea! I only know a few words in Gaelic, and nobody’s ever suggested that the name was personal. Do you think then that the house was named after Rose?’

  ‘I do, absolutely, it makes perfect sense. She adored the garden; we saw for ourselves that her love for it shone through every line she wrote and then later for Archie, too. I think she might always have been known as Rose, never Caroline.’

  ‘Wouldn’t it be great to see if we can find out what happened to her paintings?’

  Flora heard the suggestion of exuberance again in Mac’s voice, and her smile was still sad as he continued. ‘I’ve no idea how many there were, and I couldn’t find her name linked to any sale or gallery, so they could still be hidden away in the house. Unless they were dumped by the nasty nephew.’

  ‘Maybe she took them with her when she left the island?’

  ‘Yes, that’s more likely. So we might never know what became of them.’

  ‘She must have been distraught all over again when she had to leave the island and spend the rest of her life mourning Archie from somewhere she couldn’t truly call home.’ Flora paused, thinking back over Rose’s life and what she had lost. ‘There could be lots more about them for us to find, in the house.’

  Us. Flora heard how easily she had used the term, and knew that her excitement and delight in their discoveries were binding her to a place she would find hard to forget. Already she was beginning to dread leaving Alana and everything she was coming to feel so much for here and returning to Middlebrook. They were both silent for a minute, until she finished the story. ‘The photograph you showed me – do you remember, back at the hotel? – of the family and children in the garden?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘I’m guessing then that the boys were most likely Lassiter’s three, with Rose; her brother would’ve been grown-up and gone. The timing’s right and we know now that they were often together. There might be more photos somewhere in the house.’

  ‘How sad,’ Mac murmured, and he shook his head. ‘What an incredible story. It makes the house even more special, more personal, now that we know a bit more about their lives.’

  ‘Yes, I thought that too. Thank goodness it hasn’t been lost.’

  ‘Or the garden,’ Mac said thoughtfully. They were at Róisín already and Flora slowly halted the car near the house, unwilling to end their time together. He seemed in no hurry to leave either and Flora felt the space between them narrowing, as a swift look of longing crossed his face, before he quickly disguised it. ‘Once I met you, there was no decision to be made about that, really.’ He winked as he reached for the door handle and pushed it open. ‘What else could I do but restore it, put back the garden they made as best as I can?’

  Flora was thrilled, not just because the garden would be rescued before it was too late but also because she knew that it was becoming important to him, tightening its hold on the house as the Campbell family history bound both to the future. Mac still wasn’t out of the car, the door half open, and she had no time to tell him of her joy before he spoke again.

  ‘I don’t suppose you’d like to come in, see what else we can find about the family? I could make us something to eat. You must be as hungry as me after all that work?’

  Flora would have liked nothing more than to spend the evening with him and explore, searching for more information about Rose’s life and the garden she had loved, over supper with Mac. But she slowly shook her head, her glance steady on the old house before them. ‘I think we’re both tired.’ She hoped she had disguised the regret she was feeling, as her mind went back over the day. How their eyes had connected with ease whenever they were near, searching one another out and finding a waiting smile of encouragement each time. ‘I’m just going to cra
sh at the hotel, if you don’t mind.’

  Her final comment wasn’t a question, and Mac got out and swung the door shut with a simple good night. He headed towards the house, and Flora turned the car and drove away, glancing in her rear-view mirror until he was lost to her sight.

  Chapter Fourteen

  After spending the rest of the weekend alone in the hotel, Flora was back at Róisín by eight on Monday morning. She knew that Mac had arranged to meet Tamsin and her grandparents at ten, so she busied herself taking photographs in the walled garden and making notes. She was climbing through the mess in the glasshouses attached to the south wall when Mac found her, sticking his head inside and indicating the two mugs in his hands.

  ‘Morning. Thought you might like one of these – it’s chilly just now. Hope it’s not gone cold; it took me a while to find you.’

  ‘You’re a mind reader,’ Flora told him gratefully, clambering over the gnarled remains of a vine just waiting to trip her up, as she made her way back to the door. ‘I’ve forgotten my flask and it’s a bit warmer in here out of the wind.’

  ‘You shouldn’t need to bring a flask with you.’ He handed over one of the coffees and she thanked him, wrapping her hands around the mug. ‘I’ll show you the basic kitchen facilities that the builders are using in the house, and then you can go and help yourself whenever you want. Sorry, I should have done that for you sooner.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Flora knew she probably wouldn’t take him up on his offer; she liked not having to stop work to wander off and make a drink. Her trusty little flask usually went everywhere with her, and if she hadn’t been awake half the night thinking of Mac and then slept late, she wouldn’t have forgotten it. ‘Are you going back to Edinburgh tomorrow?’

  ‘No. I’m working here, sort of.’ He made room for them to sit on a couple of crates, and his smile and the low timbre of his voice, as he shoved some pots out of the way, was enough to increase her pleasure in the morning. ‘I can speak with clients from here and it’s useful to be around if the builders need me. I’ve arranged not to go into the office this week unless it’s essential. I can use the hotel’s Wi-Fi, if I need to.’