The Garden of Little Rose

by Suzanne Snow

  Sophie almost exploded with excitement when Flora rang to give her the news. There was nothing Flora could do to prevent Sophie from calling her parents for emergency childcare, leaping into her car and hurrying all the way to Yorkshire. She dragged Flora into Leeds to get her hair cut and help her choose a wardrobe deemed suitable for the approaching weekend. Much to her delight, Sophie even managed to convince Flora to get a manicure and pedicure.

  It was a scramble to get time off again after two weeks’ holiday, but Flora managed it by begging and issuing mad promises to reciprocate for those who promised to stand in for her. Sophie was still so wild with euphoria that she offered to abandon her family for a bit longer and stay on at Middlebrook to volunteer to do some gardening on the estate. Flora had laughed so much at the thought of her stylish and organised friend trying to command the weather and cope with the mud that she had almost been tempted to accept. The hours seemed to crawl by as Flora hurried around in her spare moments to get everything sorted and ready.

  Her flight on Saturday was due to land at Glasgow around ten a.m., and Flora was expecting Mac to meet her there. Relieved that it wasn’t delayed, she collected her case and dived into the ladies to freshen up before she saw him. Anticipation danced through her, as she remembered his words at the cottage a few days ago and the adoring expression in his eyes. She slid lip gloss across her mouth, already imagining kissing him hello, the thought enough to make her hurry. She touched up her mascara and added a little more of her perfume that he had so loved at the wedding. Desire hummed in her veins as she remembered again the sensation of his lips very close to her neck when he had breathed it in and told her how much it suited her.

  She glanced in the small mirror, pleased with the floral ivory shift dress she was wearing, sleeveless and sitting just above her knees. It suited her perfectly, a new confidence spilling through her. Her hair was piled into a casual bun on the top of her head and she remembered Mac’s eyes roving across her whenever it had fallen loose.

  She hurried out into the arrivals hall, nervousness suddenly bringing doubts as she glanced across the people bustling past her, heading for friends and families waiting to meet them. There was no banner, no sign displaying her name, and she thought that perhaps she had misread his plans and she was supposed to find a taxi to take her to the island. She hovered for a few moments more, as disappointment began to replace elation. She fumbled in her bag for her phone, thankfully still working, and checked for messages.

  ‘Flora!’

  Her head snapped up and she felt her heart soar. Mac was running impatiently through the hall, trying to pass the people in front of him, all heading in the opposite direction, without pushing them aside. He skidded to a halt in front of her, shoving his keys and phone into his jeans pocket, and she dropped her case with a clatter. His eyes were on her face, and then he stepped forward and she was in his arms, feeling the taut strength of his body against hers as she clung to him. He lifted her easily and swung her around as they both laughed, before he reluctantly set her down again.

  ‘I’m sorry I was late,’ Mac said, gripping her hand and Flora was already lost in the love shining from his face. ‘There were roadworks, and I was held up.’ His eyes became more thoughtful then, roaming over her with a longing she had sensed before but had never seen, not like this. ‘I’m so glad you’re here. I wasn’t sure you would come.’

  ‘You dared me,’ Flora said, exhilaration and confidence adding a teasing note to her voice. ‘What did you expect?’

  He grinned, tracing a pattern across her fingers. ‘Is that it?’ His voice was low, and she was aware of people staring curiously as they edged past them. ‘Or is there more?’

  ‘Are you asking me if I love you?’

  He nodded slowly and she smiled, wanting – no, needing – to tell him what she had been holding back for weeks.

  ‘Yes, I love you. You’ve turned my world upside down and I never imagined feeling for anyone what I feel for you. I even spend more time thinking about you than I do about gardens. Will that do?’

  She saw wonder and relief racing across his face and he reached for her, pulling her quickly back into his embrace. A searing heat lit up her senses as he kissed her, oblivious to everyone around them, and she curved towards him as one hand tantalisingly explored her back. This new intimacy between them was startling and blissful. His other hand went to her hair and pulled away the pins holding it, so that it tumbled into loose waves that he gathered between his fingers.

  ‘I wanted to do that every time I saw you,’ he said huskily, sending her pulse galloping to a new rhythm. ‘We really ought to go.’ There was reluctance in his voice, and she could feel his smile against her cheek, now that the kiss had ended. ‘It’s not very private and we’re attracting attention.’

  She giggled, her hand firmly in his, as he scooped up her case and they quickly crossed the hall to the exit. Once they were in the car and speeding away from the airport, Mac began to speak.

  ‘I can’t stand gardening,’ he told her with a grin. Flora felt laughter bubbling up as she listened to his confession. ‘I’ve thought of almost nothing but you since we met. I’ve been hopelessly distracted and it’s all your fault. Driving to the island from Edinburgh after work just so I could be near you when I was supposed to have been staying out of your way… Taking a week off work when I couldn’t really spare the time because I couldn’t bear not to be on the island if you were… Trying to pretend I didn’t want to dance with you at the ceilidh when I really wanted to carry you away to somewhere we could be alone… Encouraging you to help at the school because I thought it might be another reason for you to come back… Shall I go on?’

  ‘Oh, Mac,’ she said softly, finally understanding that the last few weeks had been no easier for him and that, like her, he had struggled to constantly hide his feelings. The realisation left her elated and she reached across to smooth the small frown on his face with her fingers. He smiled, trapping her hand against his cheek for a moment, as they waited in a queue at a set of traffic lights. ‘I thought the school might be a reason to come back, too.’ She paused, and felt him looking at her. ‘How’s Tamsin doing?’

  ‘Truthfully? Not as well as when you were there,’ he said quietly. ‘But it’s only been a few days and I know you can’t promise her what you can’t give, Flora. She’s not your responsibility.’

  Flora knew he was right and, although she was certain now of how she and Mac felt about one another, the future was still far from certain. She was silent as she thought of Tamsin and how she might be able to help her; eventually, her thoughts brought her back to his garden.

  ‘Have you done anything with the garden since I left?’ She had finished compiling her report and had emailed it to him. It was probably too soon for anything to have changed but she wanted to know.

  He looked at her, snatching his attention from the road for a moment. ‘Nothing, Flora. It’s waiting for you. It’s always been waiting for you. Just like me.’

  She smiled but still, niggling at her, was the thought of her job hundreds of miles away. She tried to blank their inevitable parting from her mind, content for now to cling to these moments with Mac. The wedding was taking place at four o’clock, and they arrived at the hotel in time to deposit Flora’s luggage and share a late lunch together, before she reluctantly chased him away so she could get ready for the ceremony. He’d teased her again about wearing jeans, and she wanted some time alone to dress up.

  Thanks to Sophie, she now possessed a selection of gorgeous underwear and, after a shower, Flora chose some pink-and-cream satin lingerie that made her feel deliciously sexy. She reached for her dress and stepped into it, twisting around to do up the zip on her side and smiling as she imagined asking Mac to do it for her. She scooped up her hair again and twisted it into an elaborate updo that left her neck bare and emphasised the elegance of the strapless dress. She crossed to the mirror, hardly able to recognise her own reflection. The pale lilac silk
dress, with its fitted bodice, floated down to gather in simple pleats above her knees and Flora loved how it fluttered against her skin. She spritzed more perfume on her neck and wrists, put on nude high heels, and reached for a clutch bag, before walking to the door and finally emerging on the landing.

  Mac was waiting for her, leaning casually against the wall, changed into a beautifully tailored navy suit. He had seen her only once before dressed like this, and he didn’t bother to hide the leap of approval and interest in his eyes as he walked over to meet her. His hand went around to her back and he pulled her towards him for a kiss. He was still smiling as he lowered his face to breathe in the scent on her neck.

  ‘We ought to go,’ he said reluctantly, stepping back. ‘You look so beautiful, Flora, but then you always do. I almost didn’t recognise you without the baseball cap. Have you brought that too?’

  She laughed, shaking her head and thanking him for the compliment, and then his arm was around her waist, keeping her close as they walked together down the wide staircase to the main hall. Flora felt nerves spinning in her stomach, as people eyed them curiously, and she glanced at Mac. Suddenly, the reality of attending this event with him seemed too much after the very recent revelations about Chloe, and she reached for his hand.

  ‘Mac? Maybe it’s too soon, all of this,’ Flora said anxiously, seeing all the other guests spilling into the building and gathering in the sunlit garden. She noticed more glances being thrown their way as people huddled in groups, and she hoped that the talk would not be about them. ‘Perhaps we should just keep things casual today, not rush?’

  He stopped and stepped closer, his hand warm on the thin silk nestling against her back. ‘I’m crazily, madly in love with you,’ he said simply. ‘And if you’re okay with that, then I don’t want to hide it any longer or pretend it’s not true, no matter what people think. I’m done with all that – this is our reality.’

  ‘I love you, too,’ she whispered, and all thoughts of keeping their relationship private disappeared as she kissed him. His hand was still on her back as they reached the hall and they paused to smile at the staff, who eyed them discreetly. Mac nodded at a few guests he recognised, and then they found seats in the drawing room and settled down.

  Flora already knew the wedding about to take place was between Amanda McDonald – one of Mac’s colleagues at the practice in Edinburgh – and her fiancé, Rory MacKay, a professional golfer. He looked like a sportsman, Flora thought, as she watched him hovering at the front of the room with his best man, both looking fit and lithe in their kilts. The registrar with them waited patiently, and as the moment approached when Amanda would make her entrance, the guests murmured quietly, glancing behind them for that first glimpse of the bride. Never before had Flora attended a wedding where she had not known a single person, but her nerves were held at bay by the soothing, yet entirely intoxicating presence of Mac at her side.

  After the ceremony there was to be dinner and dancing later, and fireworks into the evening. Mac introduced her to the people he knew, whilst champagne and canapés were served. Each time, she was elated to be presented as his girlfriend, and she forgot about the obvious questions about Chloe that people must have been dying to ask. Once they had done their bit and made lots of new acquaintances, Mac drew Flora into a quiet corner in the main hall, away from the efficient presence of the bustling staff.

  ‘Let’s disappear for a bit.’ He gave her a look that would have had Flora willingly following him anywhere. ‘We can be back before they notice we’ve even gone.’

  He led her out to his car and she wondered where he was taking her, as he drove away from the hotel. But very soon she knew, and she smiled happily, her hand resting on top of his, as he headed along the hidden lane to Róisín.

  The house was still swathed in plastic and poles, and yet Flora noticed changes. She saw that the roof repairs had finished, the weeds had been cleared from the windows, and the dull walls were gradually being repainted in a soft cream that drew the extraordinary light to the building. Mac opened the car door for her, and they made their way along the drive. But he didn’t take her to the house.

  The old green door leading to the garden that she had first seen all those weeks ago had not changed and Mac shoved it open, kicking away weeds and nettles with his feet to make a path for them. But it wasn’t enough, so he lifted her into his arms and carried her through into the silent garden. He didn’t set her down again until he was standing on the terrace outside the drawing room.

  ‘Do you remember that first morning here?’ he asked her, suddenly serious again, and Flora felt a flare of worry. ‘When you first discovered the garden and fell in love with it?’

  ‘Yes, of course I do.’

  ‘I know you have a job, Flora, and it’s hundreds of miles away.’ Mac paused and ran a hand through his hair distractedly. He reached up to loosen his tie and shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it idly onto the rusty old bench behind them.

  She held her breath as she waited for whatever was coming next.

  ‘I just want to say that you can have this garden,’ he said, holding out his arm and sweeping it across the view all around them. ‘All of it, every part of it is yours – if you want it.’

  ‘Are you offering me a job?’ she whispered, half-afraid of the answer. Not that, surely? A professional role here when all she wanted was him. Mac grinned as he shook his head, and his arm dropped back to his side as his gaze clung onto hers. ‘No. The thing is, the garden comes with a house, too. And me.’

  Flora was utterly lost for words as she stared at him, thoughts of the garden vanishing at once. She stepped backwards, suddenly lightheaded, and he dashed forwards to grab her hands.

  ‘I know how much you love your job, and I don’t want you to have to give up anything to be with me. I’m hoping we can work all that out somehow, if we were to live here together,’ he said earnestly, his gorgeous eyes alight with exhilaration. ‘I’m hoping the garden might be an incentive.’

  ‘You are all the incentive I need,’ she told him, trying not to laugh and cry at the same time. ‘I don’t need a garden as well. You know I’ll come, how could I not?’

  ‘There’s Tamsin, too,’ he said, more uncertainly. ‘Do you think you—’

  ‘I want to help take care of her, too,’ Flora said unwaveringly. ‘I can’t explain it; I just know that I love her, and I want to share whatever we can do for her with you.’

  His reply came as he wrapped her in his arms. He held her for a long moment, until she impatiently tilted her head and lifted her mouth to kiss him, loving the feel of his hand in her hair and his heart slamming against her. She recognised once more the wonderful feeling she had experienced on that very first day, when he had found her in the garden, and they had fallen in love amongst the chaos and beauty of it all.

  ‘Mac,’ she said eventually, smiling into his shoulder and still distracted by his hands caressing her neck and sliding down to explore her back. ‘Can I ask you something?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Are you any good at weeding?’

  Epilogue

  Hogmanay

  Gradually, the house was brought back to life as Flora and Mac set about making it their home. The months since the renovations began had seen careful and thoughtful changes brought about. The principal rooms downstairs were restored first, each leading to the garden, offering glorious views of the south and the sea. Heating was installed, wiring replaced, and bathrooms created to improve the running and efficiency of the house. Everything that could be saved was stored away until it could be used again and brought back where it belonged once more.

  But the Arts and Crafts principles had not been lost or sacrificed. Everything possible was done to ensure that the house remained faithful to its history and the original design. They were still discovering its secrets: cupboards that had not been emptied, tools littering the garden, books lost on shelves and smothered in dust. And in every forgotten corner, stories
from the past made themselves known with every object found and everything that grew outside.

  By far the most extraordinary surprise they had come across was two paintings, unframed, hidden at the back of a wardrobe. One was of the herbaceous border below the terrace, painted at eye level – as though the viewer were sitting amongst the plants themselves and immersed in their beauty – with a suggestion, an outline, of the house beyond. The second depicted a blonde and handsome boy, laughing over his shoulder outside the summerhouse, as he looked back at the artist with a glimmer of mischief in his eye. Thrilled with the discovery, Mac and Flora had arranged for Rose’s paintings to be cleaned and framed, and they now hung in the drawing room, where they were seen and appreciated every day.

  In the hall, the oak panelling on the walls and wooden floor had been carefully repaired, and huge windows peeped out from between heavy scarlet curtains. The table in the centre held only winter flowers in an antique vase, filling the air with the scent of pink-flowering virburnum. The alcoves tucked into the walls were still empty, waiting to be filled with the things they would gradually collect together. The fire laid in the hearth was already lit, and it burned merrily, sending a bright glow over the walls. The huge Christmas tree, found at the top of the north garden, glittered far away from the open fire, adorned with the old and simple decorations they had discovered in the attic.

  Everything was ready for the party. The table was laid in the dining room and drinks piled in the courtyard to chill in the icy temperature outside. They would begin with cock-a-leekie soup, followed by haggis, venison pie, and tatties and neeps. The cheese would be served with shortbread, and three big Tipsy Laird trifles would be enough to feed everybody, even if they wanted seconds.

  It was freezing outside, and Flora dashed indoors from the garden, stamping her feet to try to get the blood flowing again. She dropped her coat in the utility room and tugged her boots off, crossing into the kitchen in her stockinged feet. In here all was warmth and comfort. The room that Mac had created from the old kitchen, pantry and larder was full of natural light, leading onto a private courtyard on the west side of the house. He had designed the kitchen to be a functional space as well as somewhere to relax – a place for entertaining their friends but also somewhere to enjoy intimate suppers for just the two of them – and it worked perfectly.