The Garden of Forgotten Wishes - Trisha Ashley Page 0,108

away.

‘Not before you tell me, lass—’ Saul began, his hand reaching out as if he meant to grip my arm and keep me there, except by then I’d grabbed the wheelbarrow handles and was off.

I heard Wayne say timidly, ‘Best come away, Dad. There’s people looking at us,’ and I glanced over my shoulder, half-expecting Saul to have followed me, but he was still standing there, staring.

Then, in a low, carrying hiss that raised the hairs on the back of my neck, he said, ‘You stay away from me and mine, if you know what’s good for you.’

He stomped off, his son hurrying in his wake.

I escaped round the corner, out of sight of visitors, and sat on the marble bench in the temple, feeling shaky.

I went over everything he’d said and it seemed clear that something Wayne had told him had made him suspect who I was – but he couldn’t know for sure. That warning must have been to prevent me from attempting to claim any relationship to him, if he was right. Not that anyone in their right mind would want to, of course.

But then, suddenly, an alternative and almost as disagreeable explanation for the scene struck me: Wayne had obviously talked about me a lot, so what if his father thought he was romantically interested in me and I’d encouraged him, because I knew he was the son of a wealthy pig farmer?

That scenario would fit his warnings, just as well as the other did – or perhaps, I thought, hopefully, he carried on like that all the time, especially to foreign-looking interlopers?

But whichever it was, he’d warned me off, so that was presumably the end of it. I began to feel a little calmer, and after a while I unwrapped the sandwiches and got my flask of coffee out of my rucksack.

I could hear the voices of the visitors from the other side of the big central rose bed – ‘Great Maiden’s Blush’, according to its tag. Life was going on as if that disturbing little scene had never taken place.

I put away my flask and carried on preparing the beds for the mulching, until everything in the garden was rosy again.

When I took my barrow back to the Potting Shed later, I found Gert on her way out, but she changed her mind and came in with me for another cuppa.

‘Only just had a bite to eat. We’ve been taking it in turns, so there’s always a couple of people in the garden or shop,’ she explained.

‘You should have fetched me, so I could spell one of you.’

‘That’s all right, we managed fine, and after today I expect it’ll all quieten down and be more steady, like.’

‘It all seems to be going very well, though, doesn’t it?’ I said. ‘It was practically standing room only in the garden just after we opened, and I see there are still visitors coming in.’

‘It’s what Ned needs, I understand that, but I like my garden to myself, really.’

‘I know what you mean,’ I said sympathetically, ‘but you can always escape into the vegetable patch and the greenhouses on quieter days, can’t you? I’ve worked in gardens open to the public before and the visitors don’t seem to see the staff, so they don’t get in the way of the work.’

‘Ned said the same,’ she admitted grudgingly. ‘He says after this weekend me, you and him can carry on much as usual and leave the shop to Steve and James to sort between them. They’re happy as pigs in muck, those two, playing shop.’

The pig reference was unfortunate, since it reminded me of Saul Vane. I told her that I’d run into him and Wayne in the rose garden and he’d ranted on a bit at me, then asked her, was he quite sane?

‘He’s surly and not much liked, is Saul, but shrewd as they come with the pig farming,’ she said judiciously. ‘He doesn’t like foreigners and he’s a bit too ready to tell anyone who looks as if they’re enjoying themselves that they’re sinners heading for hell. He found a courting couple on his land last summer,’ she added. ‘Backpackers, they were. He set the dogs on them and they’re vicious brutes, those dogs, so there was quite a fuss about it.’

‘He sounds delightful! I think I’ll give Cross Ways Farm a wide berth,’ I said, then changed the subject. ‘Ned will have to give guided tours of the garden. When he was showing Clara round,