Page 85 of Best Summer Ever

They got the job done with much grumbling and there was more complaining when I insisted they waited to put the new mattress in place while I quickly washed, then vacuumed the frame and floor under the bed courtesy of the rechargeable hoover Mum had said I could have because it was the perfect size for the summerhouse.

‘Thanks for waiting,’ said Dad as they finally got ready to leave and he gave them each a note I couldn’t see the value of. ‘There was no point putting a new mattress on a mucky frame, was there?’

They were all smiles after that and had barely left before Algy arrived.

‘All set for tonight then,’ he said, grinning, as he looked up at the pristine new bed.

‘I am,’ I gushed. ‘Thank you so much, Algy. You’re very kind.’

‘I thought the other one might be past its best and probably a bit damp.’

‘Filthy is what it was,’ said Dad.

‘Filthy?’ Algy frowned.

‘Yes,’ I said, reaching for his hand as I suddenly realised something else I’d noticed about it, ‘and covered in black cat hair too.’

His eyes widened and he squeezed my fingers.

‘I think we might have found where your feline friend has been hanging out.’

‘Oh, yes,’ said Dad, ‘of course. I hadn’t joined the dots.’

There had been no sign of little Luna so far, but that was hardly surprising given the current toing and froing. However, the evidence on the grubby mattress was incontrovertible, even though neither Dad nor I had initially twigged. This was where she had been hiding. I wondered how long it would take for her to put in an appearance, assuming my moving in hadn’t scared her off completely.

‘That’s wonderful!’ beamed Algy, echoing my thoughts. ‘I wonder how long it’ll be before she turns up?’

‘I don’t think we’ll see her for a while,’ I told him, erring on the side of caution. ‘Not until the activity settles down around here anyway.’

‘Of course,’ he said, letting my hand go and putting a finger to his lips. ‘I’ll go and order a bed for her and a few bits so when she comes back, she’ll know she’s home.’

‘So, you’re going to be sharing the place with a cat then.’ Dad smiled ruefully as Algy tottered away.

‘Looks like it.’ I nodded. ‘Well, if she comes back, I will be.’

‘You might not want her to, given that she’s such a smellyspecimen,’ Dad winked. ‘If that mattress was anything to go by, she’s going to need de-fleaing and a ruddy good grooming.’

‘Hmm, I wonder how she feels about baths…’

By the end of the afternoon, I was grubby, tired and hungry, but deliriously happy and looking forward to a scrub up, myself. The summerhouse had been thoroughly cleaned from top to bottom, including the washing of everything in the kitchen cupboards, and the bed was freshly made. The heat of the day might have had me ailing, but it had ensured the curtains and sofa and chair covers had dried quickly and the pretty floral fabrics were looking fresh, much brighter and smelling great as a result of Mum’s ministrations.

There was still work to do to add some finishing touches, but for the time being, and while I got the cut-flower business launched, the place was more than comfortable and cosily adequate. Dad had transferred my things from the cottage and with a few of my personal possessions dotted about, my clothes unpacked and a huge jug of flowers gracing the small dining table, I was already feeling very much at home.

As much as I loved the inside, I adored even more the brick-floored covered veranda that wrapped all of the way around the outside. There was room there for a small table and chairs and the rocking chairs, with their slightly squashed cushions, were back in situ along with a few containers of plants Dad had carried round from the greenhouse.

‘How’s that?’ he said, as he stood back to admire the effect.

‘Perfect,’ I said, giving him a hug. ‘The white agapanthus are huge this year and so bright. They look wonderful against the lush green backdrop of the foliage plants.’

‘Might be a worthwhile addition to your cut-flower planning,’he commented, kissing the top of my head. ‘Hey now, what’s wrong with you?’

This was directed at Mum because she’d started to dab her eyes when she joined us on the veranda. Dad let go of me and went to her.

‘I’m just so happy,’ she sniffed, as he rubbed her back.

‘You look it,’ Dad teased and she batted him with her handkerchief.

‘I am,’ she insisted. ‘It’s a dream come true hearing the two of you talking about garden-related things.’

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