Page 19 of Coming Home to Wishington Bay
‘It must be a lot of work.’
‘I suppose it depends how much you enjoy gardening. There’s often a lot to do, that’s true, but if you love something, it feels less like work, don’t you find?’
‘Yes … I suppose so.’ I enjoyed what I did but there was no doubt in my mind that it most definitely felt like work.
‘Do you garden, Holly?’
‘Me? Oh no. I sort of deadheaded a few of Gigi’s flowers the other day but to be honest I haven’t a clue what I’m doing.’
‘We all learn by doing. Bertie and I had no idea what we were doing when we bought this place. It was all just lawn and that was about as much as we could cope with.’
‘But now you have all this,’ I said, my eyes roaming over the riotous colours surrounding the gleaming white of the freshly painted house.
‘We do. But there’s been a lot of trial and error. Gigi’s garden is lovely. She wasn’t especially into faffing like I am, so I helped her choose some nice low-maintenance plants. You shouldn’t have too much to do, but I’m always here if you ever want to ask anything. Bertie will laugh and tell you not to wake the dragon.’ She had a fabulous laugh that made you want to join her. ‘I’m not quite sure if I should be offended by the mention of the word dragon when he says that but when you’ve been married as long as we have …’ She flapped her hand and laughed again.
‘That’s really kind of you to offer, thank you. I appreciate that. I’ll probably just tidy it a little bit. Gabe has been good enough to keep an eye on it I think – it’s not as overgrown as I thought it might be so that’s one less thing to worry about before getting the estate agents round.’
‘Gabe was a godsend for Betty. I think she enjoyed having him there to fuss over.’
‘I think you’re right.’
‘But estate agents? Does that mean you’re not staying?’
‘Unfortunately not. I live in London.’
‘It’s a perfect weekend retreat,’ she said, a twinkle in her eye.
I smiled, seeing immediately how well my grandmother and Eleanor would have got on, imagining them chatting as we were now, as Gigi took her almost daily stroll into town.
‘It would be. I mean, it is. It’s just … I work a lot.’
Eleanor tilted her head a little. ‘Too much, from what I hear.’
‘Gigi always says that … I mean said that.’ I swallowed hard at my inadvertent tense error.
Eleanor reached over the low wall and patted my hand. ‘It’s not just Betty who told me that about you. We go to Ned and Carrie’s restaurant all the time.’
‘Oh. I see.’
‘But it’s nice to see you taking some time here anyway.’
‘Yes. I’m actually on sabbatical from my job for a few months, so this seemed the perfect place to spend it.’
‘Well, maybe we’ll grow on you.’ She squeezed my hand, smiling.
‘Oh, I already know I love it here. I just have to be practical. Unfortunately.’
‘Practical can be a little over-rated.’ There was that glint again.
I shook my head, laughing. ‘You’re as bad as my grandmother was.’
‘That’s probably why we were such good friends.’
I smiled. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Oh, my dear.’ She cupped my face for a moment with one hand, both linked in our grief of missing someone who had meant such a lot to each of us.
‘Off to explore the village then?’ A man’s voice drifted out before a tall, distinguished-looking gentleman appeared from behind one of the large borders. ‘I hope my Eleanor hasn’t been interrogating you about your garden.’ His wife rolled her eyes but the love of decades showed on both their faces.
