Page 56 of The Shape of Your Heart
She’s dressed in a long grey sweater and loose-fitting jeans. Seeing me, she calls out. ‘I’ve brought you something!’
Coming over, she passes me a paper envelope. ‘There are some seeds in there – and I’ve had another idea. We could build you a cold frame, so that you could start things off now to plant next spring.’ She pauses briefly. ‘I’ll help you if you like – if you’re not busy?’
Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes alight as they meet mine. She’s the first girl I’ve known who could make building a cold frame sound exciting and I can’t help smiling. ‘OK!’
We stand there in silence for a moment and I take in the light catching her hair, the hazy blue of the sky, the tang of autumn in the air, realising this is what it’s about – being in the moment. ‘How about we start with a cup of tea?’
We take our tea out into the garden, and Callie shows me where she thinks we should build the cold frame. ‘Last time I was here, I told you there wasn’t much to do during winter, but actually, there’s loads you can do – like finishing clearing your veggie garden for one thing. But also, it’s a really good time to do the invisible stuff – like digging in compost and planting seeds.’
Her enthusiasm injects me with new motivation. ‘Do you have time to go shopping?’
* * *
After a couple of hours mooching around a garden centre and buying far more than I’d intended to, we load up the car and drive everything home.
‘This is amazing,’ Callie says happily as we unload it all. ‘I know where I want these to go.’ She’s talking about the half a dozen pots of what I now know to be hellebores, their delicate petals a dusky pink.
‘I’ll see what I can do putting this cold frame together.’ I carry it over to a sheltered corner near the outbuilding. ‘And please, feel free to plant anything wherever you think.’
The cold frame comes together surprisingly easily and by late afternoon, Callie is planting the last of the bulbs as the light starts to fade.
‘I love this,’ she says quietly. ‘Early in the new year, you’ll see their shoots start to show. When the soil is so bare and the air so cold, winter flowers always seem miraculous, somehow.’ She turns to look at me, her eyes searching mine as she speaks softly. ‘I’ve had the best day. Thank you.’
Coming closer, her arms go around me. Leaning against me, she’s still, somehow peaceful in a way that touches my heart, as putting my arms around her, I just hold her.
* * *
As Callie and I slowly grow closer, life feels more settled. I dare to dream – of a different life, one that maybe we could share. But only a couple of weeks later, as November starts, my plans suffer a setback when my planning application is rejected. From everything Nick had led me to believe, because I’ve included a base that could function for the community, I’ve been counting on it being approved. I haven’t considered it wouldn’t be.
Maybe it’s simply a case of not knowing the right people – though Nick says it isn’t.
‘They cite impact on trees and restricting road access,’ I say to Callie. ‘Plus some local fly in the ointment has described it as a vital wildlife habitat that I’d be damaging.’
‘They’re trying to protect wildlife – but you are, too. And this is far more wildlife-friendly than a housing development,’ she said crossly. ‘So fricking frustrating. Some of these people are so small-minded. You should appeal.’
But aware of my stress levels going up, I have to be mindful of how much of a battle I’m prepared to take on. ‘I’m going to sit on it for now. I’ll talk to Nick again – see if he has any advice.’
It’s possible we can redesign the site so that it’s further from the trees. I don’t tell her that I’ve been having second thoughts about the project; that maybe building eco-houses would be simpler – they’d be well away from the trees and they’d create far less traffic. Plus it’s familiar territory.
That evening, I have a call from a builder I’ve worked with before – just once. After he missed the brief in one or two ways, we ended up falling out. But he’s amicable enough as he goes on to explain he’s looking for a piece of land on which to build some housing – maybe a business partner, too. After the call ends, I’m suspicious, though. I can’t help thinking he must have been tipped off. The timing is too coincidental.
When I talk to Callie about it, she’s angry.
‘You can’t give up at the first hurdle.’ Her eyes flash. ‘Anyway, if you didn’t get planning for a campsite, what makes you think you’ll get it for houses?’
I sigh. ‘There would be far less traffic down that narrow lane for one thing. Also…’ This is the tough bit. ‘There are precedents.’ I shrug. ‘It’s how it works.’
‘If you build houses…’ She looks mutinous. ‘You know how much life you’d be destroying.’
I feel torn. If I’m honest, it feels like a backwards step, one I’m not entirely happy with. ‘I haven’t made any decisions. And I’m going to appeal the planning decision.’
‘Good.’ She looks at me. ‘Do you remember that conversation we had, about most of us not doing anything meaningful with our lives?’ When I nod, she goes on. ‘With that piece of land, you have a real chance to prove there’s a truly environmentally friendly way to run a business. Wouldn’t that be great?’
‘Maybe.’ I admire her dedication. But now I’m confronted with problems, and knowing the amount of money building the houses will make, it isn’t straightforward.
After that conversation, I don’t see her for a week. I guess she’s busy planning her walk in Spain. But I have a feeling it’s about more than that – that having thought I’d changed my mind about building on the land, she feels disappointed in me.
At a routine check-up with my GP, it transpires my blood pressure is up. Given my condition, I know I can’t ignore the significance of this. The GP advises me to reduce my stress levels and prescribes some pills. As I walk away I’m uncomfortable. It’s all very well Callie having principles, but I have health concerns to consider. If the campsite is going to turn into a battle, it’s one I don’t need. But it’s an opportunity, too, to change the way I’ve always worked; to maybe do something that’s about more than money.
