Page 77 of Best Summer Ever

‘Well,’ I said, wishing he hadn’t caught me in the act and berating myself for letting my imagination run away with me when it came to seeing myself running the enterprise, ‘I don’t know about that, but I hope that you’ll consider my efforts today as a thank you for filling my bedroom with flowers yesterday. They cheered me up no end.’

‘You needed cheering up?’ Algy asked, turning his attention from the now-tidy flowers to my face.

‘A little,’ I conceded.

‘But you’re dating the hottest tourist in town from what I’ve heard,’ he nudged. ‘What have you got to be unhappy about?’

‘Oh,’ I shrugged, as I brushed my earth-encrusted legs down and refused to feel further nettled about village gossip as it was an integral part of life in a small community, ‘all of the usual. Not knowing what my place in the world is. Not having a job. Being a disappointment to my parents, not knowing what I’m supposed to be doing with my life…’ my grumbling trailed off. ‘You’re so blessed you know, Algy,’ I then said in abrighter voice. ‘You love Wynbrook and Wynbrook clearly loves you.’

‘It loves you too, you know,’ he said softly. ‘It always has and there was a time when I envisaged you picking up where your father would one day leave off. You do know that, don’t you?’

I did know that because, like Algy, I had once envisaged it too, but it was a long-quashed dream now. Finally quashed on the very spot we now stood.

‘Yes, well,’ I said bluntly as I hastily tamped the memory down. ‘Dad had other ideas, didn’t he? He wanted me to make more of myself than he had and vetoed my plans to go to horticultural college when I got better than expected exam results.’

I still didn’t know how I’d managed to achieve that, but one thing I did now realise, thanks to a sudden and dazzling lightbulb moment, was that I hadn’t been happy since I’d reeled off my GCSE results and Dad had become hell-bent on convincing me to take the academic path rather than the flowery one I’d had my heart set on.

‘He told me that gardening was something I could come back to as a hobby if I still had a hankering for it in later life,’ I added bitterly, as Algy listened. ‘As far as Dad was concerned, it was uni or bust.’

It had been bust ever since I’d dropped out and with Dad’s disappointment weighing its heaviest then, I hadn’t dared suggest picking up my secateurs when I came home for a while with my tail between my legs. Eventually I’d left again, let the dream go entirely and hadn’t given it another thought until this trip back to the estate.

I had always known that Dad had pushed me along a differentpath because his father, who had been the gardener at Wynbrook before him, had forced him to take the role on and he had, when he was younger, resented it, but it didn’t follow that the green-fingered path would be the wrong one for me, did it? Just because Dad hadn’t once wanted to walk it, it didn’t mean that I shouldn’t have been allowed to.

‘You know, your dad never spoke up about not wanting to work on the estate,’ Algy said rather defensively, his thoughts mirroring mine. ‘I would have supported him if he had and so would my father.’

‘I know that, Algy,’ I said, feeling bad for making him feel guilty. ‘I think he was too scared to defy his father, but he’s happy with his lot now.’

‘But you’re not, my dear, are you?’

‘No,’ I said, ‘I’m not, and especially now I find myself squeezed into the cottage with him and Mum and feeling exactly like I did when I was a powerless teenager. I can’t bear it, Algy.’

I forced down the desire to cry. I had found so much peace when I had been working among the flowers in the garden, but mention of the reality of my current situation had sent my blood pressure soaring and my mood plummeting again. I should never have come back to Wynbrook this summer. My return, aside from fun with Josh, and Penny and Nick’s blooming relationship, hadn’t gone well, even though I had tried to make out my romance and friends were enough. Too much that had been lost in my past had been stirred up again.

‘Well,’ said Algy, flummoxing me by sounding absolutely delighted that I was so upset, ‘I happen to think that’s a wonderful thing.’

‘What?’ I spluttered.

‘I think it’s good that you feel like that,’ he reiterated. ‘I’m pleased you feel like you did at eighteen.’

‘Why?’ I demanded.

‘Because you knew what you wanted back then, didn’t you?’ he said with a wink, ‘and I’m offering you the chance to turn back time and take it.’

I looked at him and blinked.

‘I’m offering you a job, my darling,’ he beamed. ‘I want you to maintain and manage this cut-flower venture for me. You can open it the same hours as Nick does the fruit farm and ask him for advice about how to run it if you need to. It’s not all that different to the fruit farm, is it? Just a slightly different commodity to crop.’

He made the offer sound so simple and straightforward, but it was anything but.

‘And can you imagine what Dad would have to say about that?’ I pointed out sardonically. ‘Because I can.’

‘I’m not worried about what your father would say,’ Algy countered. ‘I’m only interested in what you have to say, Daisy. What do you think? Do you want the job?’

In that moment, there was nothing in the entire world that I wanted more. I had spent so much of my time that day while working among the blooms, bees and butterflies, fantasising about how it would feel to be the person in charge, what plans I could make, how I could expand the project and extend the cutting season, but that’s all it was – a fantasy.

‘I would love the job,’ I said eagerly, and Algy looked delighted. ‘But—’

‘No, buts,’ he said immediately.