The Garden of Forgotten Wishes - Trisha Ashley Page 0,103
in the shop, so those need to go out on the shelves.’
‘Then I open the gate at twelve,’ Steve said.
‘Yes, though there might be someone coming to film the opening ceremony and a local journalist or two, so you can let them in early.’
‘Right you are,’ said Steve.
‘When everyone has gathered in the courtyard,’ Ned said, ‘Clara will come out of the office and say a few words, before cutting the ribbon and declaring the garden open.’
‘Which ribbon?’ I asked.
There was a small silence before Ned said: ‘The one I haven’t got. I knew I’d forgotten something! Where can I get several metres of wide ribbon before tomorrow? And how am I going to fix it up, ready to cut?’
‘There’s a lot more than that on the big spool of yellow satin ribbon left over from when I brightened up Widow Twankey’s dress for last year’s panto,’ Gertie said. ‘Don’t you remember? We covered an old dress from the storage room in yellow ruffles.’
‘It was fairly unforgettable,’ Ned agreed. ‘Especially since Jacob was wearing it. I didn’t know there was any ribbon left, though.’
‘Tons,’ Gertie said, and Steve was sent back to the Hut to fetch it. It was a very lurid saffron colour, which would stand out well.
‘You don’t have to fix it to the wall, you can just tie it loosely round the tops of the cypress trees on either side,’ Charlie suddenly suggested, so we tried that and it seemed to work well.
Ned wound it up again. ‘I’d better put it in the office tonight, in case it rains and we can drape it across last thing tomorrow morning once Clara’s arrived.’
‘Then all we have to do is remember the big pair of scissors from your office,’ I said. ‘They’re very shiny and new.’
‘The forecast’s good for the whole weekend, if they’ve got it right,’ James said.
‘That’ll bring even more visitors out,’ Charlie said. ‘But I don’t think you’ll really need me any more after today, so I’ve promised to help out in the café over the weekend, and then that’s it for work. I’ll be a volunteer on the archaeological dig from Tuesday.’
‘I think you’ll find that’s work, too – quite hard work,’ Ned pointed out.
‘Yes, but not paid,’ Charlie said. ‘Well, I’ll get off now if you don’t want me for anything else.’
‘And I must go and check the River Walk,’ I said. ‘I’ll come back afterwards, just to see if there’s anything last minute that wants doing, though, Ned,’ I promised, before I went.
But when I returned, he was alone in the courtyard, looking bemusedly at a metal sculpture of a galleon on a white wooden plinth.
‘Where did that come from?’ I asked, then guessed as I came nearer and realized that the effect of a ship in full sail had been cleverly constructed from bits of curved and wavy scrap metal, welded together. ‘Did Jacob make it? It doesn’t move, does it?’
‘No, it’s static and it is a present from Jacob and Myfy. They remembered you mentioning we could do with a donations box at Sunday dinner and Jacob whipped this one up out of bits of odds and ends he had lying about. There’s a coin slot on top of the wooden base.’
There was, too, and a little door in the back for emptying out the loot.
‘It’s lovely. It just needs a sign on it to encourage people to put money in.’
And when I’d popped into the office and carefully lettered ‘Captain Nathaniel Grace’s Collecting Box: help restore the Grace Gardens’ on a bit of card, we stuck that on and then carried the ship into the shop.
‘The finishing touch,’ I said as we placed it in the middle of the floor.
‘Captain Nathaniel seems to be taking over – and he wasn’t even the one who began the garden!’ Ned said.
‘I know, but his descendants did, and everyone loves a pirate, especially children. We should order that range of promotional items for the shop with the galleon logo on, now, too.’
‘You’re probably right,’ Ned admitted, and ran a nervous, exhausted hand through his hair, which made it stick out even more. ‘That damned phone’s ringing again, but I’m not answering any more calls tonight.’
For the first time, he seemed to become aware of my slightly shattered and dishevelled appearance.
‘Look, Marnie, we’re both tired – why don’t we meet in the pub in an hour and I’ll buy you dinner, in return for last night?’