Page 37 of The Bordeaux Book Club

‘But Dad’s outnow,’ she said, trying to keep as much frustration out of her voice as possible. ‘And I just thought it might cheer him up to find we’d done something for him. I think he’s getting a bit frustrated with the garden. Things aren’t… well…’

Scarlett tore her eyes away from the phone and fixed them on her mother. ‘Why don’t you just get the stuff from the shop like normal people then?’ she asked.

Leah felt her body prickle with heat. She tried to keep her temper in check. She was being tested, but she was the adult here. She ought to be setting a good example. ‘Because, growing vegetables – our own stuff – is healthier,’ she said. ‘And we’re eventually going to sell them. Money doesn’t grow on trees, you know.’ There she was again, her own mother channelling the old adages through her.

‘Money doesn’t grow in our garden either,’ Scarlett said, looking back at the phone.

Leah didn’t know whether to be proud of the clever comeback, annoyed at the insult, or irritated that her daughter had pretty much hit the nail on the head. Surely, by now, they ought to be harvesting crops to sell at the markets as they’d planned? She thought of their shrinking bank balance. Well, giving up simply wasn’t an option. This was Nathan’s dream – just seeing how dispirited he was whenever a crop failed should be enough to drive her forward.

Don’t lose ither mind urged.She doesn’t mean it. ‘Scarlett, for heaven’s sake, put the phone down and look at me.’

Her daughter slowly lowered the phone to the side of her and fixed her eyes on her mother. Leah regretted asking for what turned out to be a death stare that seemed to penetrate her very core.She’s just a fourteen-year-old girl,she told herself,pull yourself together.

It was something about loving her so much, she thought. Something about still seeing the little girl inside who’d used to leap into her arms and demand cuddles, for whom the prospect of spending a day with Leah would be enough to make her squeal with delight. She’d known Scarlett would grow up, but hadn’t expected her to push her away so much.

‘Yes?’ Scarlett prompted.

‘It doesn’t matter what you think about our vegetable garden or whether you think we’re on a highway to nothing,’ she said firmly. ‘I’ve asked you for some help. It’s Saturday. You’re sitting on your bed. You have the time. Just do it, will you?’

Her daughter rolled her eyes and swung her legs around. ‘I don’t even like broccoli,’ she said.

‘That’s not the point! That…’ Leah took a breath. ‘Well, never mind,’ she said in a calmer, more cheery voice. ‘It’s good for you – for us all – and I just want to do something nice for your Dad. He seems a bit?—’

‘Absent?’ Scarlett suggested, meanly.

‘Scarlett! Not absent. I was going to say, “down in the dumps”,’ she said.

‘Depressed.’

‘No, not depressed. Look, I didn’t come for medical advice on your dad. I just want you to help me with this planting,’ she said, folding her arms. Was Nathan depressed? She wondered. How were you supposed to tell? He seemed OK most of the time. She was pretty sure he was just common – or garden – ‘fed up’, rather than anything more serious.

‘Er, are you coming then?’ Suddenly, Scarlett had teleported to Leah’s side.

Leah jumped. She’d been lost for a moment in thought. ‘Oh,’ she said, surprised that she’d actually succeeded and trying not to show it. ‘Yes. Good.’

Outside, the morning still had the edge of freshness that seemed to herald each April day. The prepared beds stretched before them in neat runnels. Leah set her fork in the earth then bent down to the little seedlings nestling in their individual plastic squares. ‘You need to plant them quite a distance apart,’ she said. ‘Twelve to eighteen inches, apparently.’ She hoped the plants would make the most of the space and actually produce something.

Scarlett was looking out over the fields, lost in thought. Or ignoring her. It was hard to tell.

‘Scarlett!’ she said abruptly, and her daughter jumped. She felt a swell of guilt at the sharpness of her tone. Her daughter had simply been taking in the view – and it was nice to see her appreciate the beauty of where they lived. ‘Sorry, but you didn’t seem to be listening,’ she added.

‘Just thinking,’ her daughter said. The edge of malice had gone from her voice and suddenly, it was as if the younger version of Scarlett was there with her, having broken through the surly teen and fought off whatever hormones had her in their grasp.

It was weird, but in these moments where she saw glimpses of Scarlett inside the teenager, Leah hardly dared breathe. She wanted her to stay. Connect with her. Be her daughter again. ‘What about?’ she said, trying to keep her tone light. She snapped off one of the little pots of seedlings and passed it to her daughter, then began to dig a small hole the plant could be slipped into.

‘Dad.’

Leah paused. ‘Dad? What about him?’ Something inside her seemed to sink.

‘Well, where does he keep going?’ her daughter said.

Leah relaxed back on her haunches. ‘He’s just taking a bit more time out. A bit of time for himself. I think the gardening,being at the house all the time… It’s taking its toll, and he’s kind of – you know – getting a bit of headspace,’ she said, trying to sound confident and convinced.

‘Really?’ Scarlett’s fingers worried the side of the plastic pot. ‘Because it just seems…’

‘Seems what?’ It was getting harder not to snap and Leah felt something rise up inside her. A kind of sick feeling, although she wasn’t going to vomit. Just the cold, clammy dread that sometimes comes before you are sick, but without the churning in her stomach to back it up.

‘Well,’ Scarlett cracked the side of the pot, and held the little plant in her hands. She made no move to bend and put it in the hole that Leah had now dug for it. ‘Doesn’t he want to take time out withus?’

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