Summer Season (12 page)

‘And do you want to?’

‘I didn’t,’ admitted Joel. ‘I thought at first it wasn’t quite my thing, but since Kezzie and I found all the stuff in the attic – I did tell you about that didn’t I?’

‘You did,’ said his mum with a smile, ‘several times.’

‘Oh,’ said Joel, a little crestfallen, ‘sorry, I’ve probably been a bit overexcited about it.’

‘It’s lovely to see you so enthusiastic about something,’ said Mum. ‘Really, I’m pleased. And I’d love to see what you find out.’

‘So far, we’ve read some of the diaries and letters, and it looks as though before Connie was born, Edward and Lily lost a couple of babies. Which was very sad. And from what
we can tell, Lily seems to have died fairly young. Do you know what she died of?’

‘I’m not sure,’ said Mum. ‘My mother said her parents never spoke of it. I asked Connie once, and she went very quiet and said something about some things being better left alone. I’m amazed that you found all that paperwork. I wonder why she kept it.’

‘I really feel for Edward,’ said Joel. ‘It sounds daft, but he was left all alone in that big, old house, just like I’ve been. I really want to bring both the house and garden back to life.’

‘Well then,’ said his mum, ‘I think you should, don’t you?’

Kezzie was on a train to London. She was still debating the wisdom of this, but she’d felt so lonely on Friday night, she found herself looking up all her friends on Facebook. She’d deliberately kept off it since she’d been in Heartsease, but once she had logged on, there were so many messages from people she felt quite teary.

Kez, where are you????
Flick had posted on her wall over a month ago, and then again,
KEZ what’s up? No one’s seen you. Please don’t be dead
.

Kezzie hadn’t been able to resist, responding:

Hi Flick. No. Not dead. Having some time out
.

Where are you?
came the instant response.

Do you live on FB?
typed Kezzie.
Why don’t you go out and get a real life?

Cos my virtual one’s such fun
, retorted Flick.
But seriously. Where are you? How are you? Am worried, honx

I’m fine
, typed Kezzie.
But I do miss you.

Well, what are you waiting for?
wrote Flick.
Come and see us. What are you doing tomorrow night? There’s a band on at the Liberty and a crowd of us going. Why don’t you come? You could crash with us.

I’ll think about it,
wrote Kezzie, but she knew she didn’t have to think about it at all. She was enjoying her new life in Heartsease, but she missed her old life in London. And it wasn’t just Richard she was missing; she was missing her friends too.

So Saturday morning found her on a train up to London. Her decision was so spontaneous, she hadn’t got round to telling anyone where she was going. Although, who would she tell, apart from Lauren or Joel? She didn’t know anyone else.

It seemed weird coming up to London after all these weeks away. She watched the countryside gradually flee away as the train sped through Sussex villages, and gradually raced towards more built up urban centres. After weeks of seeing hills, and trees, and sheep, it was a sudden shock to be rattling through council estates, back gardens, and fox cubs playing by the railway side. London seemed dirtier than she remembered, as the train crept slowly into Waterloo and the station itself seemed frantic and busy. Did people always rush this much in London? Had she, when she lived here? It was nice, she realized, taking things a little more slowly.

It took an hour and a half to get over to Flick and Gavin’s flat in Walthamstow. The flat itself was lovely and cosy. But the road it was on was grim, with a towering estate looming ominously on the other side of the road. Kezzie grinned. She had fond memories of that estate. She, Flick and Gavin had started out planting a few bedding plants there, and although at first the local kids had pulled them up, in the end some of them had got interested in what Kezzie and her friends were doing. With some help and enthusiasm from their local community centre, the kids had ended up creating their own little garden. Kezzie still felt proud of that.

‘Kez! You’re here.’ Flick threw her arms round Kezzie, and gave her an enormous hug. ‘Tell me, where have you been? What’s been going on?’

‘It was just London, Richard, everything,’ said Kezzie. ‘I needed to get away.’

‘But you could have told me where you were going,’ scolded Flick.

‘I know, I’m sorry,’ said Kezzie. ‘Things all felt a bit mad here, and then my Aunt Jo offered me a place to stay in the country, and it seemed like the right thing to do.’

‘You’re living in the country?’ Flick roared with laughter. ‘What a hoot. Did you hear that, Gav?’

‘I think most of London heard it,’ said Gavin, who was also known as Space Cadet on account of him being not very with it a lot of the time. He was sitting at their rackety kitchen table, rolling a joint. ‘Hey, Kez, great to see you. There’s a whole crowd of us going out tonight. Should be a blast.’

And it was. After a bite to eat, the three of them strolled down the road to the local pub, the Three Compasses, where Kezzie had spent many a happy evening. She soon slipped back into things. Flick and Gavin had gathered a crowd together, some of whom she knew, Tom who’d come on lots of night-time expeditions with them, and Karen and Dan who lived down the road, as well as several she didn’t. It was fun, and Kezzie was enjoying herself so much by the time they got to the gig, she allowed herself to be persuaded to have a puff of Gavin’s spliff.

‘I shouldn’t really,’ she said. ‘I decided to give it up.’

‘Oh, come on, don’t be a party pooper,’ said Flick, who was well away by now, ‘what harm can one little puff do?’

‘A lot,’ said Kezzie, with feeling.

‘What do you mean?’ asked Flick. Overwhelmed suddenly at being with people she loved, who loved her, and who
knew Richard, Kezzie couldn’t contain herself any longer. She’d spent so long hugging her secret to herself, the words came spilling out of her.

‘The thing is, oh God, Flick, I’ve been such an idiot,’ she said. ‘I knew Rich hated me smoking dope. One of the few things we used to argue about was that he thought I could be feckless sometimes, incapable of taking responsibility. I wanted to prove him wrong, but instead I stuffed up big time.’

‘Woah,’ said Flick, raising her hand. ‘Slow down. What on earth did you do?’

Kezzie put her head in her hands, and then sat up and looked straight ahead.

‘You know we were going to move in together?’ she said.

‘Yes, so?’ said Flick.

‘Well, I offered to have Emily at my place for the afternoon, when Richard was going to be late at work. I knew he was worried about how we got on and that Emily was a bit wary of me, and I thought we could get to know each other a bit better. Stupidly, I thought we might bond a bit better away from Richard’s flat.’

‘And?’

‘It was a disaster,’ said Kezzie. ‘Emily was bitchy to me from the minute she arrived. I tried to engage her in polite conversation, I tried to find out what she was interested in, and she was so bloody rude. In the end, I just left her watching TV and went into my room to work on some designs I was doing for one of Richard’s clients, and we ignored each other till Richard came home. Which was when all hell broke loose.’

‘Why?’

‘He found Emily lying on the floor giggling hysterically, drunk and high as a kite, and blamed me for plying her with dope. I tried to tell him I hadn’t – I didn’t even have
any dope in the house but he was so angry he wouldn’t listen and the little cow told him I had given her some of my magic muffins.’

‘Oh my God – were those the ones we made together?’ Flick suddenly twigged what had happened.

‘The very same. I’d planned to share them with you and Gav next time we were out gardening. Emily must have helped herself. Plus, she’d found some of my vodka and drunk that. I told Richard I hadn’t given it to her but he wouldn’t believe me. We had a row, and that was it, he wouldn’t see me again.’

‘Oh, Kez,’ said Flick, giving her friend a hug. ‘The silly sod. He must have known you’d never do a thing like that.’

‘I don’t think he’s that rational as far as Emily’s concerned,’ said Kezzie. ‘Emily told her mum, who blamed Richard, and stopped Emily seeing him for a bit, which made things worse for me and him of course. I accused Emily of doing it on purpose to split us up, and that was it. Richard stopped taking my calls, and refused to have anything to do with me. And it’s my own stupid fault. I should never have had those muffins in the house where a teenager could get their hands on them. And it proved to Richard once and for all how irresponsible I was.’

‘And do you think he’s right?’ said Flick with sympathy.

‘Yes. No. I don’t know,’ said Kezzie. ‘It’s all been so muddled up in my head. I think the main thing is we both realized how different we are, how different our lifestyles are. I don’t think we can be together any more.’

‘Well, then,’ said Flick. ‘If that’s the case, one spliff can’t hurt can it?’

‘I’m not sure,’ said Kezzie, but she was weakening.

‘After all, you don’t have to please Richard any more,’ continued Flick.

‘Oh, go on, then,’ said Kezzie.

Hours later, after a really brilliant evening, where she’d
danced wildly, sung herself hoarse, and drunk far too much, Kezzie found herself rollickingly staggering back down the road with Flick and Gavin, and ordering a curry.

‘I do love you two guys, you know,’ she said. ‘I’ve missed you.’

‘I’ve missed you, too,’ said Flick. ‘Don’t go away. Stay here.’

‘Got to,’ said Kezzie. ‘Got a commission to restore a garden.’

‘Sounds good,’ said Flick.

‘It is.’ Kezzie told them all about Edward Handford and Lovelace Cottage, and she realized that it
was
good, and she was beginning to really like it in Heartsease. ‘You could come and help me. We’re trying to restore a community garden, too, do you remember that project we worked on over in Hackney? Only a bit posher.’

‘You’re on,’ said Flick. ‘Tell us where and when. Oh, and if you’re not coming back, take something from Spike home with you to keep you cheerful over the winter.’

Spike was the name Flick had given to the original cannabis plant she’d grown. Over the years Spike had produced much fruit as it were, and Kezzie grinned as she accepted the small plastic bag Flick offered her.

‘Thanks guys,’ she said. ‘You’re the best,’ and sat back in her chair and relaxed. With the winter coming on she’d been feeling very lost and lonely, despite her burgeoning friendship with Lauren. Coming back to see her friends had reminded her of who and what she was. Suddenly she didn’t feel quite so lonely any more.

‘Girls, do you remember who I said was visiting today?’ Lauren sat down with Izzie and Immie over breakfast. She’d told Troy that he could come around and meet them, but she still wasn’t sure she was doing the right thing. She looked from one to the other, so alike, and yet so different as they sat munching their toast in the homely kitchen. She’d worked so hard to make their home a haven for them, to make up for not having two parents. And in the main, she felt she’d succeeded. Was she about to destroy all that by letting him back into their lives?

In the last couple of weeks she’d gradually introduced the idea of Troy coming back, but she wasn’t sure how much the girls had understood about it, or whether they were upset at all. Having them actually meet him was a big step.

‘You know I told you that Daddy had come back after being away for a long time?’ said Lauren.

‘Ye-es,’ the girls chorused a bit doubtfully.

‘Daddy’s coming to see you today, isn’t that lovely?’

‘Oh,’ the girls looked blankly at her.

‘Where has he been?’ Izzie wanted to know.

‘I thought we might be getting a treat,’ said Immie looking disappointed.

This wasn’t going exactly to plan, but Lauren persevered.

‘Daddy had to work a long way away from here,’ she lied. She didn’t like lying to the girls, but how did you tell two four-year-olds their dad hadn’t wanted to know? ‘So he couldn’t come and see you before. But now he’s back and he really wants to meet you.’

‘I don’t want to meet him,’ said Izzie. ‘Silly Daddy.’

‘Yes, silly Daddy,’ agreed Immie.

Very silly, Lauren silently concurred, looking at her daughters and wondering how anyone in their right mind could have ever abandoned them.

‘That’s a shame,’ said Lauren, ‘because I’m sure you’d like him.’

‘Will he like us?’ Izzie looked at Lauren so anxiously her heart melted.

‘Of course he will,’ she said feeling her throat constricting. This was so bloody hard. ‘Come on, I’ll give him a ring now and ask him to come round. And if you don’t like him, we’ll send him away again. What do you think?’

The girls mulled it over for a few minutes, before tentatively smiling at each other and saying, ‘OK. Can we watch
CBeebies
now?’

‘Off you go,’ said Lauren, with relief. She picked up her phone and rang Troy.

Half an hour later she was ushering Troy into the lounge. His slightly scruffy appearance looked out of place in her calm and tidy lounge, with its comfy sofa, plumped up cushions and bright, breezy curtains with tie backs. Troy stood there, slightly uneasily, as if he were finding it difficult. He couldn’t have looked more awkward if he’d tried. The twins looked up at him, startled, as Lauren said, ‘Izzie, Immie, I want you to meet someone very special.’

‘Who’s that man?’ asked Izzie, pointing at Troy. It took all Lauren’s resolve not to clap her daughter instead of scolding her. She could see it all too clearly from Izzie’s point of view.

‘Don’t be rude, darling,’ said Lauren, very carefully. ‘This is your daddy.’

‘He’s not our daddy!’ said Izzie.

‘We don’t have a daddy!’ said Immie.

No you don’t, thought Lauren, your daddy wasn’t there to see you born, hasn’t acknowledged a single birthday, and has only seen you once. What kind of a daddy is that?

‘No girls, you do have a daddy,’ said Lauren. ‘Remember I explained it to you, Daddy was a bit busy and had to go away, and couldn’t see you. But now he’s back and he’ll be able to spend lots of time with you. Won’t you, Daddy?’

She shot Troy a warning look.

‘Yes, that’s right, girls,’ said Troy, his voice thick with emotion. ‘I’m going to stay around here and we can all get to know each other. Now which one of you is Izzie, and which one is Immie?’

Lauren winced. He couldn’t even tell them apart. This was never going to work.

‘We’re Izzie and Immie,’ the girls said defiantly.

‘Right, so let me guess – you’re Immie?’

‘No, I’m Izzie,’ Immie said, ‘that’s Immie.’

‘Girls,’ said Lauren warningly. ‘They’re teasing you. It’s their favourite party trick. That’s Izzie and that’s Immie. You can tell the difference by their partings.’

‘OK,’ said Troy, looking a bit shell-shocked, ‘so you’re Immie and you’re Izzie?’

‘Yes,’ they said in unison.

‘And what do you like doing best?’ said Troy.

‘Park,’ said Immie.

‘Picnic,’ said Izzie.

‘That sounds a great idea,’ said Troy. ‘Why don’t we all go out for lunch?’

‘Don’t want to,’ said Immie.

‘Not with you,’ said Izzie.

‘Izzie,’ said Lauren, in a warning tone. She could only cut them so much slack. ‘Maybe that’s a bit ambitious for today,’ she said. ‘But we could go to the park if you like.’

The girls grudgingly capitulated, and she sent them to get their coats.

Troy said, ‘That was hard work. Do you think they’ll always be this hostile?’

‘What the bloody hell did you expect?’ Lauren stared at him in disbelief. ‘Actually that went quite well. They have been known to blank people they don’t like completely.’

‘Oh,’ said Troy. ‘Seems I’ve got a lot to learn.’

‘Yes,’ said Lauren, ‘you do. Let’s just take things one day at a time, shall we? You’ve got a lot of making up to do.’

Kezzie got off the train in Heartsease, and walked up the hill with a renewed sense of purpose. She took lungfuls of deep, fresh air, breathing in the country air gratefully. It felt great to be back, away from the fetid smells of London. While it had done her a power of good to see Flick and the others again, she’d forgotten the sheer madness and filth of the place. And although she’d had a fun evening, her sore head was a reminder that sometimes you could have too much of a good thing.

Kezzie turned out of the station and walked up the High Street, noting with pleasure the pretty redbrick cottages that lined the road leading up to the shops, and noticing anew the interesting variety of little shops, from the little black and white house from which Agnes Mayhew sold her crystals and witchy artefacts, to the sparkling, bright butcher’s shop where she’d taken to buying her bacon. There was Keef’s Café, where she regularly enjoyed a caffè latte, and the vintage dress shop, which sold all manner of gorgeous clothes, and the bakery, which was a daily temptation. She sighed with pleasure. It had been a good move coming here,
and after Christmas Flick had promised her that she and Gavin would come over one weekend and help out with the Memorial Gardens.

As she was walking up the hill, Kezzie met Lauren and the girls walking down the hill with a rather attractive-looking man. The girls were holding tightly on to Lauren’s hands, and Lauren looked distinctly ill at ease.

‘Hi,’ said Kezzie, trying not to look as if she was dying with curiosity. This presumably was the ex boyfriend. ‘Where are you off to?’

‘The Memorial Gardens,’ said Lauren. She looked embarrassed, as if she’d been caught out at something. ‘By the way, Kezzie, this is Troy.’

‘Pleased to meet you,’ said Kezzie, holding out a hand and shaking the one that had been laconically handed to her. Troy looked at her with a penetrating stare and gave her a dazzling smile. ‘Kezzie, lovely to meet you. Any friend of Lauren’s is a friend of mine.’

He had a lovely, deep voice, and Kezzie had to admit there was something rather seductive about him. She could certainly see the attraction.

‘Mum-eee, I want to go to the park,’ Izzie was tugging her mother’s hand, and Immie looked equally impatient.

‘Nice to meet you, Troy,’ said Kezzie, with a grin. ‘See you all later.’

She made her way up the hill, wondering what was going on with Lauren and Troy. She assumed Lauren had the sense not to have just jumped back into bed with him so soon, but you never knew. Perhaps she really loved the guy, despite what he’d done. Kezzie knew that if Richard turned up suddenly wanting to see her, she wouldn’t have the strength to resist, despite some of the hateful things he’d said to her.

She let herself into the cottage, taking in with pleasure
the ethnic throws on Jo’s rickety sofa, the kilims on the wooden floors and the African masks from Jo’s many trips abroad. Kezzie tried to focus on the here and now, on the life she was leading, not the one she’d lost, but she couldn’t stop herself from remembering that last awful meeting they’d had. Richard, her lovely kind Richard, had been so cold and haughty.

‘How could you, Kez?’ He’d looked at her as if she were beneath contempt. ‘I thought I knew you … I was so wrong.’

Kezzie had been unable to say anything. What was the point in arguing about something that was true? She had let Richard down, and she’d let herself down. And in doing so, she’d lost everything she held dear to her. She deserved it, she knew, but Richard had been so cruel, so unkind – she wasn’t quite as wicked as he painted. Yet even with the painful memories of that last time together, she knew she’d still have him back. Which was all very well, but Richard wasn’t showing any signs of rushing to be by her side. He hadn’t contacted Flick or any of Kezzie’s other friends, and even though she hadn’t been looking on Facebook much, he’d made no attempt to contact her there. He couldn’t email or phone, as she’d changed both her address and number, but if he wanted to, he could get in touch. She knew she hadn’t made it easy for him to find her, but the fact that he hadn’t bothered, hurt most of all.

This was no good. Having had a nice weekend, she was about to descend into gloom. Kezzie would normally have popped in to see Lauren, but she was clearly otherwise engaged. She knew Joel was still likely to be out to lunch with his mum, so she’d just decided to sit down with a coffee and a cheery DVD when the phone rang. It was Eileen.

‘Hi Kezzie, just wondering if you were free,’ she said. ‘Only I thought it would be nice to come and have a chat with
you about the Edward Handford exhibition and see what sort of material you’ve got.’

‘It’s mainly at Joel’s,’ said Kezzie. ‘Why don’t I give him a ring later and suggest we go and look through it? I know he’s keen to get involved, I’m sure he won’t mind.’

Joel hadn’t been long in from visiting his mum when he got the phone call from Kezzie announcing she and Eileen were going to come up and look through some of the extraordinary finds he and Kezzie had made.

Sam was watching
Peppa Pig
, and Joel had only planned to sit down with a beer and flick through Edward’s diary anyway, so he wasn’t sorry for the company. The evenings were starting to draw in, and the prospect of long, lonely winter nights was not a pleasant one. It would be good to have some company on a Sunday afternoon for a change. The weekends could often seem like the longest part of the week.

‘So, let’s have a look at all this material you’ve got,’ said Eileen, as Joel ushered her into the dining room, where he’d been keeping the trunk and its contents out of Sam’s way. He was conscious suddenly of how shabby it looked. He hardly had visitors any more, apart from Kezzie. Maybe he should start thinking about redecorating again. ‘It sounds really fascinating.’

‘I know it is,’ admitted Joel. ‘Every time we look at the letters and papers it’s like a treasure-trove and we find something new. I had little idea of who Edward Handford was, apart from the fact that he built the knot garden, until Kezzie started digging. Now I can’t think about anything else. From what I’ve read so far he and Lily had such a lot to contend with – they lost two babies before their eldest, Connie, was born – and I had no idea of any of it. He’s a fascinating character.’

‘Not many people do know much about him,’ said Eileen. ‘Personally, I think he’s one of those overlooked characters whose work was far more influential than gardening history lets on. He worked on so many famous gardens: Chatsworth, Hatfield, Sissinghurst. You name it, he’s designed a garden out there somewhere. He was massively in demand until the end of the First World War, and then he seems to have withdrawn from public life.’

‘That’s strange. Do you know why?’ said Joel.

‘Nobody knows for sure,’ said Eileen. ‘But I know his son died in the war, which is probably why he built the war memorial here. His wife died a year later, I believe. He devoted the rest of his life to philanthropic works – he built the village school you know – but he didn’t design any gardens after that. He seems to have become a bit of a recluse after his wife’s death And the world changed so much after the First World War, and he wasn’t part of it. So he faded into obscurity.’

‘Let me show you what we’ve discovered,’ said Joel. The trunk with all the paperwork in now inhabited the dining room, which was strictly out of bounds to Sam because it had an open log fire, and was therefore the safest place from sticky fingers.

They sifted through some of the letters that Joel and Kezzie had already read, and then Kezzie exclaimed in delight.

‘Oh my God, it’s here, I’ve found it!’

‘Found what?’ It was impossible not to get caught up by Kezzie’s enthusiasm.

‘Look,’ she said, carefully unfolding a large, brittle piece of yellowing paper. ‘This is Edward’s original design for his knot garden. I can’t believe it. See – here are his plans, he drew the patterns out geometrically, and here are his notes about the plants. This is so incredible. A real find.’

‘I can’t quite make out his writing,’ Joel said, squinting a bit. The writing was very faded.

‘It says the borders are to have begonias, petunias, busy lizzies, and heartsease I think,’ said Eileen. ‘I hadn’t realized the original garden had quite that many flowers, I thought it would be simpler than that.’

‘Those borders round the outside of the knot garden itself are a bit fussy for our tastes today,’ said Kezzie, ‘but the Victorians did like their bedding plants. I think I’m going to need to simplify it a bit and mainly use heartsease for the beds, but I would like to find all the plants he used to commemorate the births of his children. It was such a lovely idea.’

‘Oh look, this must be Edward and Lily with their firstborn,’ said Eileen, finding a black and white picture of a stiff-looking couple. Lily was holding an infant in her arms and looking blankly into the camera; Edward looked proud and a black Labrador sat at their feet.