have hung on to join in with the rest of us. Being in the thick of things might have lifted his spirits again, assuming they were still sagging.
When I walked back to the square, I was tempted to knock on the studio door, but I didn’t. To be honest, I didn’t think he would have heard me anyway, because the radio was on full blast and it was accompanied by the sound of grinding metal. Even though he was cross with me for sticking up for him, I was still kind enough to hope that meant he had hit his creative stride and was happy in his work.
It can’t have been easy to keep his dream alive when faced with Zak and his father’s steady stream of disparaging remarks. Jackson’s snide comments about my lack of qualifications had ensured I could empathise with some of what he was feeling and then there was my mother’s offer of professional input which hadn’t made me feel any better either. Perhaps I should point all that out to Finn. It might be a comfort to know that he wasn’t the only one striving to fulfil his dream in the face of adversity.
Chapter 13
That evening I emailed my plans, proposals and plant lists for the Winter Garden off to Peter, including further apology for interrupting his harbourside date, and went to bed early, wondering what the next few days would bring.
The beginning of the week got off to a flying start, and I was able to indulge in one of the aspects of my job that I love the most. Luke had taken delivery of a huge plant order including shrubs, bulbs and a couple of small trees, and it was up to me to decide where they would be best placed.
By Monday lunchtime I had everything marked out and was able to take him around, explaining why I had chosen to put things where and describing for him how it would all look, paying particular attention to the Winter Garden borders, in just a few weeks’ time.
There was a certain irony in that I had just got on with it, rather than waiting to find out what Peter thought of my ideas. That clearly meant I had more confidence than I gave myself credit for and that, in reality, Jackson’s undermining (and to a lesser extent Mum’s) had no lasting power over me.
In my mind’s eye, as Luke and I went around, I could already envisage the additional seasonal pops of colour that the new shrubs would bring and my nose was practically picking up the sweet scent of the sarcococca, which would start flowering soon after the new year. The viburnum x bodnantense with its tiny pink flowers was already providing a smell of what was to come and Luke was delighted with it all.
‘Winter is so often underrated,’ I enthused as we made our way back to the office, ‘but it only takes a couple of tweaks to keep real interest in the garden all year round.’
Luke grinned as he held the door open for me.
‘What?’ I asked.
‘I thought I was enthusiastic about the project,’ he laughed, ‘but you’re taking it to a whole new level, Freya.’
‘Well,’ I said, feeling my face flush with more than cold, ‘that’s what you’ve employed me to do so I might as well make a decent show of it.’
‘More than decent,’ he praised, joining in with my banter.
I was delighted that he was so happy with the way it was all coming together and for me it was a relief to feel my creative spark burning brighter again. My former passion was finally back after its period of grieving for Eloise which had made it vulnerable to attack.
‘I’m going to start planting this afternoon,’ I told him, ‘and carry on with Chloe tomorrow.’
‘And I’m happy to help out,’ Luke said. ‘I was also wondering if we could get the girls out here to plant a few of the bulbs? As long as it won’t interfere with your schedule.’
‘That would be wonderful,’ I told him. ‘In fact, I have a bit of a trick up my sleeve when it comes to bulb planting.’
It wasn’t my trick, but it was a good one nonetheless. I was a massive fan of gardening enthusiast Beverley Nichols, who wrote passionately and prolifically about his horticultural endeavours, between the 1930s and 1960s. Eloise had introduced me to the books he had written about his various homes, gardens, friends and cats, and