do the talking, “it looks like an amazing place to live. You do the gardens yourself?”
She nodded.
“That’s incredible. Personally I’ve never been able to keep a pot plant alive longer than a week; I could never create something as amazing as this.” He was not quite as bad as that, but he was desperate to keep the conversation going.
Anna turned to admire her own gardens, pretending she was seeing them as Matt and Oscar were, for the very first time. He was right; they were incredible, and she felt proud at all that her hard work had achieved. A mass of creepers; roses, wisteria, jasmine and clematis had been teased and nudged gently until they had grown along the fence, over the archway above her gate and along the decking and pillars that made up her front porch. The garden in front of the porch was boxed in by a small hedge – due for a trim soon she noticed – and inside the hedge salmon pink impatiens, crisp white chrysanthemums and a dazzling colourful mix of dahlias jostled for space. Along the inside of the front fence grew sprays of delicate gypsophila and deep golden marigolds. In large terracotta pots framing the front door grew bushy purple petunias plants. The whole effect could have been a horrible confusion of colours, but balanced by the soothing greens and the deep maroon of her house it all came together beautifully.
In the deepening light that was twilight, the whole garden was bathed in an iridescent glimmer that made her feel as if - in this window of time between day and night when children slumbered and lovers stirred - magic was somewhere afoot.
The lawn could do with a mow she realised, although she preferred to keep it longer than some of her neighbours considered fashionable. The pink and white clovers that sprung up overnight when she allowed the grass its freedom attracted bees, and without bees to pollinate her garden it wouldn’t be anywhere near as magnificent as it was.
Entranced, she had forgotten the presence of the others until Matt said softly behind her, “it’s stunning,” and she knew from his tone that he could feel the magic in the air too.
“Right,” she spoke briskly and turned back to them, “thank you once again for seeing me safely home. As you can see I’m absolutely fine now so please don’t let me hold you up any longer.”
“We’ll see you to the door,” Matt made to step forward but she blocked him.
“There’s no need.”
He lifted an eyebrow at her as if she was being purposefully difficult but she refused to back down.
“I think I’m capable of making it the last five metres without you,” she told him defiantly.
“But –”
A loud noise interrupted them.
“Oscar, was that your stomach?” Anna looked at the boy in astonishment.
He placed his hands over his tummy. “Yes,” he assumed a hangdog expression. “I’m starving. I told dad earlier –” he paused to scowl at his father, “but he still made us follow you to make sure you were ok.”
“Oh.” That rather complicated things for Anna. She couldn’t have Oscar’s hunger on her conscience. If she sent him away it would haunt her all night. Matt assumed an expression similar to his sons, something akin to what she imagined the phrase ‘puppy dog look’ referred to. She sighed.
“Fine,” she told them begrudgingly. “You can both come in while I fix Oscar something. For the road, ” she added just to be clear.
Normally Matt didn’t make a habit of guilt tripping other people into feeding his child, but he decided tonight he would make an exception.
“Splendid,” he beamed, sidestepping Anna neatly, lifting the latch of the gate and striding off up the path. “Come along son,” he called over his shoulder. Anna stared after him with an open mouth for a moment then quickly shut the gate and followed them.
“Wait,” she called, “watch out for the –” but she didn’t get to finish before the ducks rounded the corner, quickly and furiously. If
She nodded.
“That’s incredible. Personally I’ve never been able to keep a pot plant alive longer than a week; I could never create something as amazing as this.” He was not quite as bad as that, but he was desperate to keep the conversation going.
Anna turned to admire her own gardens, pretending she was seeing them as Matt and Oscar were, for the very first time. He was right; they were incredible, and she felt proud at all that her hard work had achieved. A mass of creepers; roses, wisteria, jasmine and clematis had been teased and nudged gently until they had grown along the fence, over the archway above her gate and along the decking and pillars that made up her front porch. The garden in front of the porch was boxed in by a small hedge – due for a trim soon she noticed – and inside the hedge salmon pink impatiens, crisp white chrysanthemums and a dazzling colourful mix of dahlias jostled for space. Along the inside of the front fence grew sprays of delicate gypsophila and deep golden marigolds. In large terracotta pots framing the front door grew bushy purple petunias plants. The whole effect could have been a horrible confusion of colours, but balanced by the soothing greens and the deep maroon of her house it all came together beautifully.
In the deepening light that was twilight, the whole garden was bathed in an iridescent glimmer that made her feel as if - in this window of time between day and night when children slumbered and lovers stirred - magic was somewhere afoot.
The lawn could do with a mow she realised, although she preferred to keep it longer than some of her neighbours considered fashionable. The pink and white clovers that sprung up overnight when she allowed the grass its freedom attracted bees, and without bees to pollinate her garden it wouldn’t be anywhere near as magnificent as it was.
Entranced, she had forgotten the presence of the others until Matt said softly behind her, “it’s stunning,” and she knew from his tone that he could feel the magic in the air too.
“Right,” she spoke briskly and turned back to them, “thank you once again for seeing me safely home. As you can see I’m absolutely fine now so please don’t let me hold you up any longer.”
“We’ll see you to the door,” Matt made to step forward but she blocked him.
“There’s no need.”
He lifted an eyebrow at her as if she was being purposefully difficult but she refused to back down.
“I think I’m capable of making it the last five metres without you,” she told him defiantly.
“But –”
A loud noise interrupted them.
“Oscar, was that your stomach?” Anna looked at the boy in astonishment.
He placed his hands over his tummy. “Yes,” he assumed a hangdog expression. “I’m starving. I told dad earlier –” he paused to scowl at his father, “but he still made us follow you to make sure you were ok.”
“Oh.” That rather complicated things for Anna. She couldn’t have Oscar’s hunger on her conscience. If she sent him away it would haunt her all night. Matt assumed an expression similar to his sons, something akin to what she imagined the phrase ‘puppy dog look’ referred to. She sighed.
“Fine,” she told them begrudgingly. “You can both come in while I fix Oscar something. For the road, ” she added just to be clear.
Normally Matt didn’t make a habit of guilt tripping other people into feeding his child, but he decided tonight he would make an exception.
“Splendid,” he beamed, sidestepping Anna neatly, lifting the latch of the gate and striding off up the path. “Come along son,” he called over his shoulder. Anna stared after him with an open mouth for a moment then quickly shut the gate and followed them.
“Wait,” she called, “watch out for the –” but she didn’t get to finish before the ducks rounded the corner, quickly and furiously. If
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