Page 26 of Clara's Secret Garden
I smile at Elsie. ‘Come on, let’s go inside and I’ll showyou where the books are. I’ll bet there’s some you haven’t read.’
As we walk up the overgrown drive, Rory calls my name and Iturn.
He sticks up his thumb with a grateful look. And I smile andgo inside with Elsie.
As I suspected, she’s immediately captivated by Gran’s bookshelves,and I quickly pull out all the stories that were mine as a child. There’s quitea stack of them, and Elsie has already pounced on an old copy of Daniel Defoe’sRobinson Crusoeand is leafing through it.
‘Why don’t you read it and sort out the books later?’ Isuggest.
A shy smile lights up her face. ‘Can I?’
‘Of course you can.’
‘Was he the man who was on a desert island?’
‘He was, Elsie. I loved that book when Gran bought it forme.’ I glance out of the window, in time to see Rory waving Bertie off inLuke’s mum’s car.
Oh, bugger, she’ll wonder who Rory is. I’ll have to makeit clear he’s just a friend.
‘Right, Elsie, I’ll leave you to your reading. If you getthirsty, there’s some juice and plastic cups by the sink, okay? And I’ll beoutside with your brother if you need anything.’
‘Okay.’
I smile as I leave. She’s already completely engrossed inthe first page, curled up in Gran’s favourite old armchair.
During the morning, Rory tackles the front lawn while I dolots more weeding in the borders and the raised beds, a task which seemsnever-ending as – once pulled out – the weeds seem to sprout up again withremarkable speed. I check on Elsie a few times but she’s so absorbed in herbook, she barely notices me. At one-ish, I head into the kitchen to fetch the lemonadefrom the fridge and the ham and tomato sandwiches I made last night to bringover. And the veggie cakes, of course.
Rory sets up some garden chairs in a shady part of thegarden, and calls for Elsie to join us. She comes straight out, looking happierthan she did when she first arrived, and tucks into a ham sandwich with gusto,swinging her legs and listening to us talking. The talk is about gardens and thestubborn nature of weeds and what it would be like to be shipwrecked on anisland, and it’s all quite relaxed.
‘What’s the one thing you’d need with you on the island,Clara?’ Rory asks me with a smile.
‘Oh, I don’t know. You’re putting me on the spot.’ I closemy eyes, thinking hard. ‘Matches. I’d need matches because making a fire wouldbe so hard without them. And you couldn’t eat raw fish. Well, youcould.But it wouldn’t be nice.’
Rory nods solemnly. ‘Right. Very sensible. I’d probablybring my razor because I couldn’t stand growing a beard and looking like SantaClaus.’
I laugh and Elsie says, ‘But there’d be no mirror so youwouldn’t be able to see yourself anyway.’
‘Ha! Very good point, Elsie.’ I nod approvingly. ‘And that’sa very vain way of thinking, Rory, if you don’t mind me saying so.’
He shakes his head, finishing a mouthful of sandwich.‘Nothing to do with vanity. A beard in tropical temperatures would make me feelhot and sweaty.’
‘Ah. Okay, then.’
‘So what about you, Elsie?’ He smiles fondly at his sister.‘What couldn’t you bear to be without? As if we couldn’t guess.’
She thinks hard, screwing up her pretty freckled face. ‘CanI have two things? A giant notebook and a pen.’
‘Not a book, then?’ asks Rory, surprised.
She shakes her head. ‘I’d finish the book and then Iwouldn’t have anything else to read. But if I had a notebook, I could writelots of stories and then read them afterwards.’
I exchange a smile with Rory. ‘I’m impressed. You’ve clearlygot a deep thinker on your hands here.’
Elsie shuffles awkwardly in her seat and takes a big glug oflemonade, some of which ends up down her T-shirt. Rory grabs some of thekitchen roll I brought out and hands it to her to mop herself up – just asElsie lets out a gigantic burp.
I want to laugh – it was obviously the fizzy lemonade – butI don’t want to embarrass her even more.
But then Rory cracks a joke and Elsie starts giggling.
