The Garden of Forgotten Wishes - Trisha Ashley Page 0,94
took the opportunity to work down Ned’s list of people to ring, chasing up a missing signboard from the delivery, checking the consignment of glossy brochures was on its way, and one or two more tasks.
I’d only just ticked off the last thing on the list and replaced the receiver, when it rang and a posh, high-pitched, female voice asked whether entrance to the garden on Friday would be free to local residents.
‘Local residents are free to walk in the garden any time – so long as they’ve paid their four pounds entry fee,’ I said. I’d no idea what Ned’s policy was going to be on this, but I didn’t somehow take to that voice …
There was a splutteringly indignant noise and then a sharp-pitched yapping in the background.
‘Do be quiet, Wu and Wang!’ she exclaimed, covering the phone inadequately and I was suddenly sure this must be Audrey Lordly-Grace!
She came back on and said, ‘Surely, at least on opening day, entry will be free?’
‘No, though there will be free cold drinks and cake in the courtyard.’
Elf was going to provide a couple of large jugs of lemonade and Gertie was baking a huge lardy cake.
‘All the details are on the website,’ I said helpfully. ‘You could become a Friend of the Grace Garden, though,’ I suggested. ‘For only twenty-five pounds, you get free entrance at all times and there’s a special garden party in summer.’
I’d made all that up, too, but it was such a good idea I scribbled it down on the pad next to the phone.
She made another outraged squawk and I nearly said, ‘Who’s a pretty Polly, then?’ but luckily, just as the words were beginning to slide out from between my clenched lips, she put the phone down on me.
I added ‘Set up Friends of the Grace Garden on website’ to Ned’s urgent list.
He came back just as I’d finished doing that and must have detoured by way of the house, because he’d brushed his hair and changed the brown woolly jumper with holes in the elbows he’d worn earlier, for one of a mossy colour and a less disreputable waxed jacket.
I told him what I’d done so far and asked him if he wanted me to put in the order he’d left for a lot of scented geranium plug plants.
‘Only they might want to be paid up front.’
‘I haven’t dealt with them before, but they’ll probably send an invoice,’ he said. ‘Apparently, it’s the secret dream of James’s heart to plant up that big stone water trough in the courtyard with scented geraniums. Gertie told me he’d been drooling over the catalogue for this specialist nursery for ages.’
‘So, it’s his secret obsession?’
‘Not any longer. They’ve some really unusual new varieties. I doubt they’re all going to be hardy, but nurturing them through the winter will give him something to occupy himself with, when things are quiet on the visitor front.’ He grinned. ‘We won’t tell him – it can be a surprise!’
As we put the order through, I thought how kind he was and that underneath his new wariness, he hadn’t really changed much from the young student Ned I’d known: generous, thoughtful and warm-hearted.
As if to emphasize it, he’d brought me back a sandwich, too: smoked salmon and cream cheese on wholemeal bread – delicious.
‘I wolfed mine down in the car park before I came back, I was ravenous,’ he said, and just then his mobile rang and, when he’d answered it, he got up.
‘Here we go. The TV people have arrived. I’ll go and meet them.’
When he opened the door I could see that nature had helpfully set the scene for him: the sun had suddenly popped out from behind clouds, Lancelot had appeared in the archway to the garden, tail spread, and the birds began to sing sweetly, as if auditioning for a Disney film.
Ned returned looking more relaxed and said that once he’d started talking, he’d forgotten everything except what he was hoping to achieve in the Grace Garden, totally oblivious to the camera pointing at him.
This ability to lose himself in his genuine enthusiasm for gardening was what had made him such a natural on TV in the first place: he just forgot the cameras and the millions of viewers.
‘Someone’s coming back on Friday, but just to add some film of the actual opening – and Clara Mayhem Doome. She’s a much bigger celebrity than I am,’ he said.