Page 62 of The Missing Sister
He looked at her, his good eye showing her a range of emotions. Finally, he nodded.
‘You win. I will do it for you, Nuala. You can take me into Mother’s private garden at the side of the house. We shouldn’t be disturbed there.’
‘Thank you, Philip,’ Nuala replied, hardly able to hold back her tears. What with Finn away, her barefaced lie to Principal O’Driscoll at the school that morning, and the dread of her treachery being discovered here, her nerves were in shreds. ‘I’ll ring the bell and tell Mrs Houghton we’re coming down.’
She helped Philip into a tweed jacket he pointed out in the wardrobe, then insisted on a scarf in case there was a breeze.
‘For goodness’ sake, Nuala. I’m hardly likely to get a chill on a day like this.’
‘Well, so, ’tis better to be prepared. Now then, I’ll put your hat on.’
‘Will you wheel me across to the mirror before we leave?’
Nuala did so. ‘What with the scarf and the hat tipped across to the left, you’d hardly be noticing, would you?’ she said.
‘I wouldn’t go that far, but, well, place the blanket over my legs – or leg, should I say – and let’s get this over and done with.’
There was a knock on the door and Nuala opened it to find Mrs Houghton standing there.
‘The lift door is open and I’ve alerted the rest of the staff to keep clear of the front hall and Lady Fitzgerald’s private garden,’ she said.
‘Shall we go?’ said Nuala.
‘If I have to,’ grunted Philip, his voice muffled by the thick woollen scarf in which he had buried half of his face.
Nuala pushed the wheelchair along the landing.
‘Right,’ said Mrs Houghton, ‘there’s only room for you and the chair, so I’ll meet you downstairs. Press the button marked “G” and I’ll close the cage.’
‘I’ve never been in a lift before,’ Nuala said. ‘’Twill be like flying!’
‘That’s the part when you come back up, Nuala,’ Philip replied dryly.
The criss-crossed metal door was secured behind them and with a gentle jolt and a loud whirring noise, Nuala watched as Mrs Houghton’s face disappeared from view. Five seconds later, the lift bumped to a halt. Turning round, Nuala saw the entrance hall beyond the metal grille.
‘’Tis magic, Philip! We’ve landed. What do I do now?’
‘Open the cage, I would imagine.’
Nuala found the lever and pushed it back as Mrs Houghton approached from the other side.
‘There we are, Philip, just a few more seconds and we’ll be outside in the fresh air,’ said Nuala.
She saw him slump deeper into his chair as they crossed the entrance hall. The wide front door was already open and Mrs Houghton indicated the ramp laid in front of it.
‘It’s not steep, but hold on tight to the chair,’ she ordered.
‘I will,’ Nuala chuckled. ‘We wouldn’t want you flying off across the garden, Philip, would we? Now, which way do we go?’
‘I’ll accompany you, shall I?’ Mrs Houghton asked.
‘No need, I’m sure Nuala will not let me come to any harm,’ said Philip. ‘Go on then, get a move on!’
She did so, following the flagstone path around to the side of the house and arriving in a formal garden. There was a path leading through the beautifully tended beds, full to the brim with roses and other jewel-coloured flowers she’d never seen before. They arrived at a central paved area, in the middle of which was some kind of round ornament.
‘Ah, Philip! This garden is just about the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen!’ Nuala said as she pulled him to a stop and turned around to take it all in.
‘It’s my mother’s pride and joy,’ said Philip. ‘Despite the fact that we have gardeners, she’s spent hours in here on her hands and knees, digging in all sorts of different specimens that Father would bring her back from his travels. She and I would sit on the bench over there and she’d tell me the names of all the things she was planting.’
