mine. ‘I can’t tell you what it means to me to have you back here with us this Christmas.’ Her eyes are shining. She means it, I know that. About any help they can give me, too.
Except it isn’t just a small amount of money I’m talking about here – a bring-and-buy sale in the village hall isn’t going to do it. And they don’t have any real money. The only thing they have that’s worth anything is Florence Cottage. I look around at the medieval cottage that’s been in Auntie Flo’s family for generations.
This is probably worth a bob or two.
Hollie
There’s a mist of fine rain pattering down on the leaves outside. I can hear it and a chilly damp morning air greets me as I walk into the lounge. That’s because Scarlett is out already inspecting the winter shrubs and she’s left the French doors open. I don’t suppose they have to worry about central heating bills in the jungle…
Typical Scarlett. I always had to remind her about things like that when she lived here, but, instead of the irritation I used to feel, I get a shiver of happiness instead because
she’s back
. Suddenly and unexpectedly and miraculously, Scarlett’s back, summoned like some elemental out of the depths by my wish.
‘Hey, sis!’ She appears with a bunch of bright red berries in her hand. ‘Just getting into the festive spirit here. I thought I’d make you a garland. Holly for Hollie.’
‘Wonderful!’ She’s wearing Richard’s dressing gown and a pair of my PJs and everything looks far too big on her. We’re going to have to feed her up a bit while she’s here. She’s been eating some strange things in Brazil, she was telling us about it last night – howler monkeys and bright orange fruit with many pips and
insect larvae…
Ruffles is out there with her. I can just about spy the plumy tip of his tail wagging happily from behind a clump of elder.
Sambuca nigra
, she’d call it. She was always a natural botanist, passionate about the garden at Florence Cottage. From the timeshe was old enough to follow Flo around with her little plastic watering can she could name the plants that covered every inch of it, but when she came back from horticultural college I remember fondly, it was suddenly all Latin names with her.
‘Look at how well the
Lunaria biennis
has thrived in the peat patch over there.’ She bends to pick up a bunch of Silver Pennies growing freely in the beds beside the hydrangeas. ‘So pretty, they used to be my favourite winter harvest out of everything.’
I nod. ‘Auntie Flo called that plant Honesty. She said it suited you.’
‘Honesty?’ my sister giggles.
‘Yes, because you were always rubbish at lying to get yourself out of trouble…’
‘Ha. I can
still
remember the day Auntie Flo told me I was wasting my time putting them in. But I didn’t have anywhere else to put them,’ her clear wide eyes look up at me earnestly now, ‘and I’ve always thought – “Nothing ventured nothing gained,’ don’t you agree?’
I nod, hugging my mug of tea closer to my chest as I join her on the lawn. I wonder if I’ll get the chance to speak to her properly this morning? She hasn’t gone into what her ‘mission’ is yet, but she’s come back so full of all her new friends and exciting life. I can scarcely dare to hope there’s any point in asking her about the baby thing, and yet, as she said, nothing ventured…
‘Scarlett, it’s really funny that you should turn up right now because…’
‘Smell that.’ She holds a sprig of festive yellow Winter Sweet under my nose, twisting it to release its spicy fragrance. ‘I planted that against Flo’s advice too. D’you remember?’
‘It’s lovely.’ I curb what I was just about to say to her, feeling her excitement catch in my own belly. ‘And you’ve always had a sound instinct about what to plant and where. The garden has always been your baby, hasn’t it?’
‘Talking of babies,’ she nudges me gently, ‘how about you
Except it isn’t just a small amount of money I’m talking about here – a bring-and-buy sale in the village hall isn’t going to do it. And they don’t have any real money. The only thing they have that’s worth anything is Florence Cottage. I look around at the medieval cottage that’s been in Auntie Flo’s family for generations.
This is probably worth a bob or two.
Hollie
There’s a mist of fine rain pattering down on the leaves outside. I can hear it and a chilly damp morning air greets me as I walk into the lounge. That’s because Scarlett is out already inspecting the winter shrubs and she’s left the French doors open. I don’t suppose they have to worry about central heating bills in the jungle…
Typical Scarlett. I always had to remind her about things like that when she lived here, but, instead of the irritation I used to feel, I get a shiver of happiness instead because
she’s back
. Suddenly and unexpectedly and miraculously, Scarlett’s back, summoned like some elemental out of the depths by my wish.
‘Hey, sis!’ She appears with a bunch of bright red berries in her hand. ‘Just getting into the festive spirit here. I thought I’d make you a garland. Holly for Hollie.’
‘Wonderful!’ She’s wearing Richard’s dressing gown and a pair of my PJs and everything looks far too big on her. We’re going to have to feed her up a bit while she’s here. She’s been eating some strange things in Brazil, she was telling us about it last night – howler monkeys and bright orange fruit with many pips and
insect larvae…
Ruffles is out there with her. I can just about spy the plumy tip of his tail wagging happily from behind a clump of elder.
Sambuca nigra
, she’d call it. She was always a natural botanist, passionate about the garden at Florence Cottage. From the timeshe was old enough to follow Flo around with her little plastic watering can she could name the plants that covered every inch of it, but when she came back from horticultural college I remember fondly, it was suddenly all Latin names with her.
‘Look at how well the
Lunaria biennis
has thrived in the peat patch over there.’ She bends to pick up a bunch of Silver Pennies growing freely in the beds beside the hydrangeas. ‘So pretty, they used to be my favourite winter harvest out of everything.’
I nod. ‘Auntie Flo called that plant Honesty. She said it suited you.’
‘Honesty?’ my sister giggles.
‘Yes, because you were always rubbish at lying to get yourself out of trouble…’
‘Ha. I can
still
remember the day Auntie Flo told me I was wasting my time putting them in. But I didn’t have anywhere else to put them,’ her clear wide eyes look up at me earnestly now, ‘and I’ve always thought – “Nothing ventured nothing gained,’ don’t you agree?’
I nod, hugging my mug of tea closer to my chest as I join her on the lawn. I wonder if I’ll get the chance to speak to her properly this morning? She hasn’t gone into what her ‘mission’ is yet, but she’s come back so full of all her new friends and exciting life. I can scarcely dare to hope there’s any point in asking her about the baby thing, and yet, as she said, nothing ventured…
‘Scarlett, it’s really funny that you should turn up right now because…’
‘Smell that.’ She holds a sprig of festive yellow Winter Sweet under my nose, twisting it to release its spicy fragrance. ‘I planted that against Flo’s advice too. D’you remember?’
‘It’s lovely.’ I curb what I was just about to say to her, feeling her excitement catch in my own belly. ‘And you’ve always had a sound instinct about what to plant and where. The garden has always been your baby, hasn’t it?’
‘Talking of babies,’ she nudges me gently, ‘how about you
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