The Garden of Forgotten Wishes - Trisha Ashley Page 0,82

Cress.

Treena, turning this over in her mind, thought it might work out. ‘It’s not that much further than the livery stables from my cottage in Great Mumming, just in a different direction. I’ll have a think about it.’

But at that moment Ned walked in, and Cress’s eyes went unfocused.

I hadn’t really thought he’d join us – it had been more likely that he would have started work in the garden and entirely lost sense of time passing – but, after nodding to a couple of acquaintances, he came over.

Cress patted her hair, which was today drawn back into a messy pleat and, smiling eagerly, made room for him on the bench seat next to her.

I introduced Ned to Treena and then pointed out Luke, over at the bar, ordering food and he went to join him.

‘I wish I could stay for lunch,’ Cress said wistfully, looking after him, and Treena and I exchanged amused smiles. Ned seemed to come at least a close second to her horses in Cress’s affections.

The two men were already talking ruins when they came back and seemed to be getting on like a house on fire. If Luke was aware of Ned’s previous incarnation as a TV gardening personality, or all the scandal, it had clearly made no impression on him in the least.

Cress, once she’d drunk her coffee and purchased a bottle of sherry over the bar, reluctantly tore herself away just as our ploughman’s lunches of Lancashire Crumbly cheese, fresh bread and pickles arrived.

While we ate, Luke told us that his dig would start on the Tuesday after Easter. ‘I’ve taken a sabbatical from my university till September, got some funding, and most of the manpower will be students and local volunteers.’

‘It’s going to be handy for you, if you’re staying at Risings,’ Treena said.

‘Yes, Cress seems nice and she said she did a good cooked breakfast that would set me up for the day. Then I’ll probably eat in here most evenings.’

‘Now I’ve met a few archaeologists, I can confidently predict you’ll find most of them hanging out in the nearest pub after work finishes for the day,’ Treena said drily.

‘This dig’s a bit off the beaten track, though,’ Luke said. ‘They may have to travel quite far every day and so want to get off home after work.’

‘I often have a quick meal here in the evenings, when I can’t be bothered cooking,’ Ned admitted.

‘I expect I’ll see you here, then, and you’ll have to come and see what we’re finding when the dig gets going,’ suggested Luke. ‘The first few days we’re mostly just rolling and stacking the turf and moving rocks.’

‘I’ve walked round the site a few times,’ Ned said, ‘and I wouldn’t have thought there was a lot to dig up.’

‘I think it’s more extensive than it looks. I’ve seen some aerial photographs of the area that showed more walls extending out.’

Luke was off again on his pet subject. Apparently, he hoped the site would have been a very early monastic settlement, even if it had been abandoned quickly.

‘Depending on when that was, it might have been the result of Viking invasions into the area, though in west Lancashire, they mostly seemed to have come to settle and farm.’

‘Elf – she’s my great-aunt and a local historian – says their land was flooded by there being two successively rainy years, so they decided to join forces with one of the larger established monastic foundations further to the east,’ Ned said.

The dig was starting to seem a little more interesting than the collection of not terribly inspiring hummocks and bits of wall that I’d seen from the car park, on the day I’d arrived.

‘I’ll come and have a look at what you’ve found, too, once you’ve got going a bit,’ I said.

‘Why not help with the dig?’ Luke suggested eagerly.

‘Because Marnie already spends all day digging, Luke,’ Treena reminded him. ‘She’s a gardener!’

‘I don’t get a lot of time off,’ I said, ‘and being involved in restoring the Grace Gardens is enough for me.’

‘Oh, yes – of course. Treena told me you were restoring a historic apothecary garden,’ Luke said to Ned. ‘It’s behind that interesting Tudor house over the bridge, isn’t it?’

Ned nodded. ‘Old Grace Hall. The garden was originally laid out in the late seventeenth century, but part of it was commandeered to grow fruit and vegetables during the war and it’s been neglected ever since. The house, of course, is very much older. In fact, I’m

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