Page 24 of Clara's Secret Garden
The next day, with Bertie over at Luke’s house, Ispend time experimenting with veggie cake recipes and researching on YouTubehow to do a baking demonstration and make it fun to watch. I’m already worryingthat Ellie’s customers will be bored rigid by my delivery.
I’m still wondering why on earth I agreed to do it in thefirst place.
It was Rory encouraging me, of course. Saying I’d be good atit. And I fell right into the trap.
Ellie wasted no time, phoning last night and booking me infor three weeks on Friday, and I don’t want to let her down because she and Fenwere so lovely. Sylvia as well. Ellie went out of her way to reassure me thatit wasn’t a big deal. It was just a friendly gathering and everyone would makeme feel really welcome. They’d love Bertie, she said. He’d be the star of thenight. And that was what swung it for me. If Bertie was centre-stage – and Iknew he would be – that would take the heat off me.
And Bertie would love it. He wasn’t in the least bit shy andhe’d be thrilled to be earning money for his new wheel.
By the end of the afternoon, I have two beetroot chocolateloaf cakes cooling on wire trays, and a tray of sweet potato brownies, which Itested warm from the oven and which tasted absolutely delicious. Lois, in herusual grumpy mood, wandered down to make herself a coffee and ate one of thebrownies. (I purposely didn’t tell her about the sweet potato content.)
‘What do you think?’ I asked.
She shrugged. ‘They’re okay.’
I took that as praise from Lois, who refuses on principle tobe cheered by anything these days. She saw the lurid scarlet stains on my handsand asked if I’d murdered Irene, and I laughed and admitted that I’d putbeetroot in the chocolate cakes. She made a puking gesture at the very thought.But I cut myself a slice (it tasted really moist and quite delicious) and I encouragedLois to try a mouthful, and I could tell by her face that she was surprised athow good it was. Naturally, she wouldn’t say so. But when she thought I wasn’tlooking, I caught her cutting a large slice off the end, putting it on a plateand hurrying back to her room with it.
Praise indeed!
*****
Next morning, when I come down to the kitchen, a few cakeycrumbs on a large plate are all that’s left of the first beetroot chocolate cake.Bertie and I ate some last night, and Irene must have demolished the rest when shegot in from the club at some unearthly hour. It’s just as well I made two, Ithink to myself, as I box up the other loaf cake and some of the sweet potatobrownies for Rory to try.
When I arrive at the cottage with Bertie – who’s beingpicked up by Luke and his mum after a dentist visit first thing – Rory’s car isalready parked by Gran’s garage, and my heart gives a little skip of joy. Itstill seems unreal that we should be back in touch. I feel as if we’ve snappedstraight back into the easy banter from when we used to catch the bus together,although I’m already beginning to panic that sorting out a garden isn’t exactlygoing to take forever.
What happens when it’s finished?
Will Rory vanish from my life again, as suddenly as hereappeared?
But I’m trying not to think about that. My life has moved ina surprising new direction, thanks to Gran’s wilderness of a garden, and I justneed to enjoy it for what it is.
Bertie tumbles out of the car and runs over to Rory, who’sgetting his lawnmower out of the boot, and I can see them having a conversationabout machines as Rory explains to him how it works. I smile fondly. Bertieseems fascinated and is lapping up every word Rory’s saying. And it strikes mewith a pang of sadness how much he must miss Dad. Boys need their male bondingtime.
Bertie trundles the machine into the garden with a littlebit of guidance from Rory, and just for a moment, I allow my silly heart toswell with emotion, watching them together.
Then Elsie gets out of the passenger seat, ratherreluctantly, and I turn my attention to her instead. She’s blushing andawkward, looking as if she’s hating every minute of this torment her rotten bigbrother’s putting her through, and I remember it well, feeling so awkward withstrangers.
‘Have you two met?’ asks Rory, as Elsie runs into the gardento find him and I follow on behind her.
I smile at Elsie. ‘We have, actually. Although it was awhile ago. You might not remember.’
Rory goes back to the car and she runs off after him, tooshy to stay and talk to me.
‘Right, let’s tackle this front lawn,’ he grins, returningwith the strimmer. ‘If it gets any longer, it’ll be over your head, Bertie.’
‘There’s lots of dandelions on our grass at home,’ announcesBertie. ‘But the grass isn’t this long.’
I groan. ‘It soon will be, unless I tackle it soon.’
‘Getting out of hand?’ Rory throws me a sympathetic look.
I shrug. ‘Doesn’t matter. It’ll get done when it gets done.Gran’s garden is the most important thing right now.’
‘This is a secret garden, Elsie,’ pipes up Bertie. ‘You mustn’ttell anyone about it, okay?’
Elsie stares at him but doesn’t reply. She runs her tonguearound her lips several times and I notice the skin around her mouth looks redand dry.
‘A secret garden?’ I laugh. ‘What do you mean, Bertie?’
