The Summer Season. Julia Williams
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gathered,’ said Joel.
‘I think it’s a great idea,’ said Lauren. ‘I hope you don’t mind, but I told her I thought you should.’
Kezzie stood outside Joel’s house wondering whether she’d made a mistake. She felt absurdly nervous. Having rashly declared to Lauren that she was going to take on Joel’s garden for him, she’d decided she should go round and just tell him that’s what she was going to do. Logically she knew all that could happen was that Joel would say no. But somehow it mattered to her more than she thought possible that she restore the garden. Not only had the magic of the place infected her, but if she could do this, and do it well, she might be halfway to her dream of getting a show garden ready for Chelsea, just as she and Richard had always planned. And she did want to fulfil that dream. If only to show Richard what he was missing.
‘Come on, Kezzie, are you a woman or mouse?’ she said out loud, then pushed open the creaking gate, and walked up the cracked path. Now she was up close to the house, she could see there were evident signs of occupation – a pair of boots by the front door, a child’s plastic scooter hidden in the privet bush that jammed its way up against the bay windows, a light faintly shining through the stained-glass window. But it had a sad, lonely air, as if it were a house that had been left to its own devices for a very long time. Even the wisteria bush which clung to the front of the house looked lost and untended.
Taking a deep breath, she knocked hard on the door. There was no reply, so she knocked again. Still no reply. Oh well, perhaps she should come back another day. She was about to leave when suddenly the door was opened and Joel was standing there. Taller than she remembered, with dark, floppy hair, and kind blue eyes. Her heart gave a little flip. He was more attractive than she’d realized on their previous encounter.
‘Right, here’s the thing,’ she said, ‘I want to restore your garden for you.’
‘Sorry?’ His voice wrapped itself round her like dark velvet. She hadn’t noticed how warm and deep it was.
‘It’s me, Kezzie. I did tell you my name was Kezzie, didn’t I? I’ve decided I want to restore your garden. May I come in?’
‘Er. OK,’ said Joel, looking and sounding bemused. ‘If you just give me a minute. I’ve just put my son to bed, and I’d better just check he’s settled down. Go on straight through to the kitchen.’
‘No problem.’
Not that she was interested in Joel, but he was the only halfway decent male she’d met in the bruising months since Richard had ditched her. It had occurred to her she needed a nice uncomplicated fling to get Richard out of her system, but attractive as Joel seemed, she had a feeling he’d be very, very complicated.
She walked through the hall noticing the unfinished floors, and unpainted walls. It all felt so terribly sad. She was surprised when she turned left into the kitchen, that it was shiny and new, with the latest modern gadgets, and a dazzling array of equipment. It was a kitchen to die for, and yet somehow it seemed to lack soul. She sat down on a bar stool, which she found tucked under the breakfast bar, and sat at the kitchen window looking into the dark. What was she doing here? She didn’t know this man from Adam. If Joel had wanted to do something about his garden he’d have done something about it by now. She was just interfering in something that she had no business interfering with. Kezzie sat there, irresolute, her heart churning, her palms sweating.
‘Sorry about that,’ said Joel, interrupting her thoughts as he came silently into the room. ‘So what is it you want exactly?’
Kezzie took a deep breath. He hadn’t told her to get lost, maybe this could work. It was worth a try at least. ‘I know we didn’t exactly get off to a good start, and you probably think I’m interfering, but I really would be interested in doing up your garden. I want to exhibit at Chelsea at some point and I think restoring your knot garden would be a fabulous project to work on. And Lauren said you always wanted to restore it …’ her voice trailed away. ‘Look, I’ll understand if you say no, it’s just an idea.’
‘No, you’re OK,’ said Joel. ‘I did – do – want to restore it. Life’s got in the way a bit, that’s all. I’d like you to do it, if you still want to.’
‘Are you sure?’ said Kezzie. ‘I’d love to.’
‘I can’t pay you,’ warned Joel, ‘or not much. And I can’t help except at weekends. I have to go to work.’
‘I’ve some money put aside from my redundancy, and I’ve got some freelance work, so I can survive for a bit. Besides, it could be my showcase garden, and help me get other business. You would be doing me a favour. And I can look into the possibility of getting a grant to help restore if you like,’ said Kezzie, unable to hide the excitement in her voice. ‘Edward Handford is of historical significance, I’m sure someone would be prepared to help with the restoration. I really am keen. I’ve been looking into Edward’s work. He adapted a lover’s knot garden from an original Elizabethan design and made his own version, which was more in keeping with Victorian times. But that might seem a little over the top for modern tastes, so I thought I could stay true to the basic vision, but simplify it a bit, and have heartsease at the heart of the garden. It seems appropriate.’
‘If you say so,’ said Joel looking amused.
‘Sorry, running away with myself again,’ said Kezzie. ‘Bad habit I have. But look, I’ve printed off some stuff that I thought might be interesting.’
She showed Joel everything she’d found so far along with a plan of an Elizabethan knot garden, which Edward had apparently used as a guide.
‘This is amazing,’ said Joel. ‘I had no idea of any of this. You’ve really inspired me to start again with it.’
‘I’m really frustrated that I haven’t managed to track down Edward’s actual design,’ said Kezzie. ‘Having that would be an enormous help.’
‘You can just about see the shapes of the original,’ Joel said. ‘It has been semi maintained over the years I think. But in the latter years, poor old Uncle Jack couldn’t cope any more and it fell into a complete state of disrepair. So now it’s full of weeds as you’ve seen, and needs cutting back and starting again. I only got as far as trimming back the box hedge.’
‘I think it was beautiful, what Edward Handford did for his wife,’ said Kezzie. ‘All that effort to create a garden that spelt a message of how much he loved her.’
‘I don’t really know an awful lot about Mum’s side of the family,’ said Joel, with a frown. ‘My Uncle Jack – well not so much an uncle, more of a second cousin, we just called him Uncle Jack – lived here alone. I think his mother was one of Edward’s children, but I’m not sure. I should ask Mum about it. She must know something.’
‘So how did you end up with this place?’ said Kezzie.
‘By dint of being the only one left,’ said Joel. ‘My mum’s got Parkinson’s so though Uncle Jack left it to her, Claire and I did a deal where we took out a mortgage on this house, and bought Mum a warden-assisted flat in Chiverton. She always used to go on about the garden here, and I was intrigued. I came here a few times when I was a small child, and I remember breaking into the knot garden. It was like a secret place, all locked up. When Jack died there was no one else but Mum and me to leave it to. I fell in love with it immediately. Claire and I had so many plans …’
His voice trailed off wistfully, and Kezzie felt as if she’d walked in on some private grief. She wished she knew him well enough to give him a hug.
‘Claire never liked it though,’ he continued. ‘She thought it was gloomy. I took out the heavy oak panelling in the hallway and made it lighter, but what with work and looking after Sam, I haven’t really had time to finish what I started.’
He looked sad, as if something pained him.
‘You’re right about the garden of course, that was the one bit of the place Claire really