Page 41 of Summer in Sunset Harbour
Hilda was waiting outside the reception shed. She had driven her open-backed van down and still wore wellies and a pair of gardening gloves. In the back of the van were several lines of planter boxes filled with an assortment of flowers.
‘Ah, Josie, there you are. I was clearing out one of my greenhouses and thought of you.’
‘What’s all this?’
‘These are a few of my own varieties, some that are public, others that are still in culture. I thought you could use them to border the access road. I have a friend who rents out those miniature diggers you can get for landscape gardening. We can put them right up to the main entrance. Of course, it’s your project, but I have some ideas for the colour schemes.’
Josie wiped away a tear. ‘That would be lovely.’
Hilda grinned. ‘Since some of these varieties are unique, I could get you a bit of press in the gardening magazines. Believe it or not, there are people who’d visit just to see these flowers. And of course, I can provide you with seeds to sell in the shop.’
‘That would be great. Thank you so much.’
As Josie stared at Hilda, a sudden wave of emotion flooded over her. Her vision blurred, and she found herself sobbing.
Through the strength of friends and family, new and old, things were coming together. It was really working.
Hilda was hugging her. ‘It’s just a few flowers,’ she said, almost admonishing Josie. ‘It’ll look a bit better than brambles and nettles, that’s all.’
‘Why are you being so kind to me?’
‘I’m just helping out a friend, and to be honest, I’ve got no room for all of these. I need to start clearing things out.’
Josie pulled back. ‘What do you mean? Are you planning to move or something?’
Hilda looked down, not meeting Josie’s eyes. ‘I’m getting old,’ she said. ‘It’s time to downsize, that’s all. I can’t manage it at my age.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes. Stop worrying about me. I’m an old workhorse.’
Josie was about to say something else, when a familiar voice hailed them. Robinson came walking down the lane, grinning as he lifted a hand to wave.
‘Not too late, am I?’
‘For what?’ Josie said, a little more sternly than she had anticipated, getting her a sharp look from Hilda for her troubles.
‘Hilda called me and said you had some stuff to unload,’ he said.
Josie looked around and saw Tiffany standing by the door to the reception cabin. When she saw Josie looking, she just shrugged.
Was this some kind of conspiracy to push them together? Suddenly she felt a little queasy.
‘I’ll be back in a minute,’ she said, turning and fleeing back through the campsite to the shower block. She went into a toilet cubicle and sat down, holding her face in her hands. She couldn’t do it; she just couldn’t. Even if by some miracle Robinson did like her, the thought of getting burnt again … she just couldn’t go there. The whole country was currently dancing to a song about what a terrible wife she had been. Wouldn’t it be better to just put her head into the ground and forget about everything? Perhaps dig a hole big enough that she could fall inside, be covered over, and never be seen again? Maybe Reid would come up with a sequel to his hit song, detailing her death. At next year’s Glastonbury Festival, maybe a hundred thousand people would sing along.
She was just wondering whether she could flush herself down the toilet when she heard Barney shout her name. Josie went back outside, looking around. She caught a glimpse of movement in the trees nearby, Barney waving her over.
‘Josie, quick, come over here. I’ve found some kind of hole.’
20
Plot Holes
Barney was standingamong the trees a little off the main path down through the campsite, holding a tree branch which he had stripped of leaves. As Josie arrived, he held up a hand, waving her back.
‘Don’t come too close,’ he said. ‘I don’t know how big it is. It’s down there, in among the roots of that tree.’
The hole was a dark hollow in the shadow of a towering pine which had tilted slightly, perhaps damaged in a storm long-ago. A couple of feet wide, the hole sloped steeply into the earth. As Barney poked at the edges with a stick, a lump of sod broke away from one side, widening it by a few inches.
