“Really? In the time it’s taken me to go to the loo, she’s already got it planned?” I shouldn’t have been surprised really. Mum is the master-planner of all family events.
“Yeah, that’s why I thought you might like some time away from it all. How about me and you go out? Just the cinema or something?” Cass knew exactly what I needed.
“That would be great. Thank you. How’s your day been?”
“All right. A boring lecture and a great seminar. More importantly, how’s yours been?”
“I got through it. I went for a coffee with someone from my Lit lecture,” I offered, determined she would never find out about the bag filled with pebbles.
“Good. What are they like? Am I going to have to fight it out to maintain my number-one-friend status?”
“Umm, no. It was just a guy who needed to borrow some of my notes.”
“That’s what they call it down in Brighton,” she joked, albeit a little warily.
“God, no. Nothing like that.”
“That’s probably wise.” Her voice was quieter. “I know you must be hurting like hell, but don’t give in to the rebound thing, Neve. You’ll end up getting hurt again. Just come home and be with everyone who loves you for a couple of days.”
“Okay, okay. I can’t wait to see you.” I didn’t want to scare her off by admitting quite how much.
“Me, too. Do you want to talk to Flynn?”
“Nah, just say hello. I’ve done enough family tonight, thanks.”
“Okay. Look after yourself. And ring me if you need to. Any time. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, thanks, Cass. I love you.”
“I love you, too. We all do. Sleep well.”
I did. Eventually.
I dust the flecks of soil off the glossy leaves and stand back. Perfect. It will thrive here. Sure, I was only supposed to mow the lawn and do a bit of weeding, but this is my gift to the old woman.
Stretching my back, the tiredness of a full day’s work infuses my muscles. But I’ve got to carry on. I can probably get another couple of jobs done before sunset. Before dark. Before I go home and face the crap which has no doubt taken place today. Before another night spent thinking about how much I miss her.
Myrtle. Even just thinking about her name makes me sigh with the reality of what I’ve done. All I ever wanted was to make her happy; that’s where the nickname started. Neve had got all upset when Cass called her Moaning Myrtle one night we were out. Trying to hide how funny I found her stroppiness, I kissed her and called her Myrtle, before telling her the mythology of the plant and its links to love. And, I’ve got to be honest, I love the fact that my girl has the name of something so beautiful. Like her.
“Do you want another cup of tea, Jake?” My daydream is broken by the old lady’s question. Her voice might quiver with age, but in her smile I can see the young woman her husband must have fallen in love with decades ago. Just as I am about to refuse, I change my mind. Who knows when she will next see someone? Finding solidarity in our loneliness, I answer.
“Go on then, but only if you’ll join me!” The beam on her face tells me I made the right choice.
After washing my hands, I perch on the wrought-iron patio chair which really is too delicate for someone of my size and look at the garden. It is a testament to love. I reckon Mr Jones created it a good forty years ago; it has that old-fashioned, cottage garden feel, all rose bushes and ivy climbing the surrounding walls.
Mrs Jones carefully places the tray on the table before sitting on the adjacent chair. Bless her. Tea served in bone-china cups and saucers. A few biscuits arranged on a matching plate. It is so many miles away from what I’m used to, it’s on another bloody continent.
“Thank you.”
“Oh, it’s a pleasure, Jake. You’ve done a good job today. You always do. Jack would be so grateful, knowing that his garden is still looking nice.”
“You know what, Mrs Jones? I don’t think it was his garden. It was yours. I bet he made this garden for you. He wanted to create something beautiful, just for you. It’s a sign of his love, his passion.” Seeing the glistening in her eyes, I wonder if I’ve said the wrong thing but then she places her wrinkled hand, still wearing its wedding ring, on top of mine.
“That is such a lovely thing to say, Jake. And I think you’re right. He loved this garden and, once we knew there wouldn’t be any kiddies running around in it, he did turn it into something beautiful.” Her eyes take on a faraway look as she faces the garden. “I always loved just sitting here, watching him work. He was such a handsome man. All the girls were envious when he asked me out. He always said that gardening kept him fit. I always said gardening kept him young. I can see him now, in his shirt sleeves, just like it was yesterday.” Her sigh tells of a happy life, now only experienced in her memories.
“Well, thanks for the tea. I’d better be going now.” I pick up the tray and take it into the kitchen.