A Secret Garden Read online

  ‘Thank you, but we’ll pass,’ said Jack. ‘Lorna is showing me round and I want to find the best sites before anyone else sees them. I may not be able to get her on my own again so I’m taking advantage.’

  ‘Well, why not come for lunch when you’ve finished? We’ve still got Lucien and he’s working miracles with the leg of pork.’

  After the briefest possible glance at Lorna, Jack went on, ‘Tempting as that sounds, I’ve already asked Lorna to come with me to the pub.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ said Kirstie and went back into the house.

  ‘I’m terribly sorry,’ said Jack before Lorna could speak. ‘If you want to go and have roast pork with everyone we can, but I’d prefer—’

  ‘We can just have a tour, we can both make notes and then I can go home. You don’t have to worry about my lunch,’ said Lorna. She wasn’t quite sure how she felt about him being what seemed to be a bit proprietorial. She felt a bit confused. It had been a long time since she’d been in male company on her own. She’d probably forgotten the conventions.

  ‘I’d be made up if you came to the pub with me. It’s really very good and I’m sure it does roast pork if that’s what you’re longing for. What do you think?’

  Lorna laughed. ‘I think it’s far too soon after breakfast to be thinking about lunch, but if the offer is still open when we’re finished, I’ll probably be delighted to go to the pub.’

  He seemed relieved. ‘I’m glad. I didn’t want to rush you into anything, and it is selfish of me to want you all to myself.’

  He didn’t enlarge on this statement and Lorna wondered why he wanted her to himself. They’d have been round the garden by lunchtime – surely he would have all the information he’d need by then?

  ‘I’m going to have two lists,’ said Lorna, half an hour later. ‘A “must do” list, and a “do if time” list. Peter has promised me assistants but I wonder who I could get who I could trust to work on their own? Although I suppose if I had a good planting plan, and the plants…’ She stopped, suddenly overwhelmed with the hugeness of the challenge. ‘I’m not sure if it’s doable, frankly. I think I might suggest to Kirstie that we keep the garden out of it, and just have sculpture in the park.’

  ‘That would be a shame,’ stated Jack. ‘It may not all be as perfect as you’d like it, but what you’ve done is a credit to you.’

  She was pleased. ‘There was a fair bit here already, when I came.’

  ‘Was that patch of blue under the trees here?’

  ‘The grape hyacinths? Well, no. They’d completely taken over several of the beds so I heaved them all out and put them there. I like to think they look like a lake, when the sun is shining in the right direction.’

  ‘They do look like a lake, although when the sky is grey, it’s odd to have a blue lake.’

  ‘I prefer blue lakes, on the whole,’ she said seriously.

  He laughed. ‘So do I!’

  ‘Much of what I can plant now would be out in time for the show,’ said Lorna an hour or so later. ‘I’ll just have to rely on what I’ve done the past couple of years. Although I could probably track down some bits and pieces already in flower.’

  ‘I’m sure it’ll be fine,’ said Jack. ‘And as for help, didn’t someone tell me that the girl who waited on us last night had something to do with plants? Couldn’t she help you? She seems very efficient.’

  ‘That’s a genius idea! Why didn’t I think of it? I know she has to do other jobs to keep herself going. She’d probably be quite happy to do gardening rather than waitressing. I’ll have to find out how much Peter will pay. But that could be at least part of the answer.’

  Jack smiled. ‘Now, have we done enough work? Can I take you to the pub? Or do you want to go home and write up your notes?’

  Lorna made a face. ‘Of course that’s exactly what I should do, but it is Sunday and I can just about read my handwriting. I can write up my notes this afternoon.’ She grimaced. ‘If I don’t doze off, that is.’

  ‘Didn’t you sleep well?’ said Jack. ‘I didn’t either. Come on.’

  Lorna allowed herself to be taken by the arm and towed to the pub, speculating as she went what his excuses for a bad night were.

  8

  Saturday came round again far too quickly, in Philly’s opinion. The previous week she had been about to serve at a dinner party, this Saturday she was behind a stall slightly lacking in cake.

  It was just as well that she had extra bowls of bulbs to sell. A patch of warm weather had brought things along nicely, and Grand had managed to knock up a few jam sponges (the very best seller). But he’d spent a lot of his week fixing Lady Anthea’s ancient Volvo (Philly had checked with Lorna that this was the correct way to refer to her). And it was making him very happy so she didn’t comment. It was only when he saw her getting out bags of flour and looking anxiously at the KitchenAid that he scoured his hands and did some baking himself. Philly thought her cakes were fine, but they were not up to her grandfather’s standards and weren’t allowed on the stall.

  She had only just finished setting up (her grandfather was joining her a bit later) when Lucien came over from the cheese stall.

  ‘Hi,’ he said. ‘Good to see you again.’

  Philly hoped the stiff breeze would either disguise her blush or prevent it. ‘Hi. Have you recovered? It was pretty full on last week.’

  ‘It was OK. I did breakfast and their Sunday lunch in the end. Nice little earner.’ He paused. ‘On your own today?’

  ‘Not for long. My grandfather is repairing Lady Anthea’s Volvo. He’s delivering it today. She’s either going to give him a lift here, or he’ll borrow the Mini her son lent her while her car was out of action.’

  Lucien seemed to have lost interest in Lady Anthea’s Volvo. ‘The cake looks OK but why don’t you have any bread?’

  ‘Um, well, my grandfather has a very light hand with a sponge but he can’t seem to get the hang of bread.’ She frowned. ‘Aren’t there other stalls doing bread?’ She looked around and discovered that there weren’t. ‘Well, you can buy all sorts of loaves from the supermarket.’

  ‘Yes, but wouldn’t this crowd’ – he indicated the shoppers who were beginning to appear – ‘rather buy really good artisan bread?’

  Philly regarded the people, many of them obviously down from London for the weekend if they hadn’t yet moved down here permanently. ‘I suppose they would.’

  ‘You’re missing such a trick here,’ he said.

  ‘But Grand – my grandfather can’t do bread. Why don’t you do it?’

  ‘Because I haven’t got access to an oven.’

  ‘What – no sort of oven at all?’

  He shook his head. ‘My accommodation doesn’t have one.’ He grinned suddenly. ‘I’d better get back to the cheese. You should come over later. At the end I’m sometimes allowed to buy the off-cuts cheap. I don’t always have a use for them. You could have them.’

  ‘That’s kind.’

  He shrugged and went back to his stall.

  Philly’s heart gave a little skip of happiness. It wasn’t that Lucien had declared undying love, or even asked her out, but he had recognised her and come over specially. Even if it was to complain about the lack of bread.

  Her grandfather arrived shortly afterwards, looking very pleased with himself.

  ‘Hello, Philly, how’s it hangin’?’

  Philly grimaced. ‘Grand! Where do you get these expressions? And why are you looking so smug? Did Lady Anthea pay you in used, non-denominational tenners?’

  He looked slightly embarrassed. ‘She would have done, but I didn’t let her. It was such a pleasure to work on that old Volvo I did it for the love of the thing.’

  ‘Really?’ Her grandfather knew the state of their finances as well as she did and while he had his pension and some savings the general fund always needed anything extra that could be scrounged. A week’s work (it seemed to have taken up a lot of his time) for nothing wasn’t the way for
ward. Because she was a bit cross with him, she went on, ‘Lucien – he was the chef at the dinner party – said we should do bread.’

  ‘I can’t do bread,’ said Seamus.

  ‘I told him. But he said this crowd would really appreciate some artisan loaves.’

  Her grandfather frowned. ‘I might go across and have a word with that young man.’

  Philly wanted to stop him. She didn’t want her grandfather to tell Lucien off for stating the obvious, but a customer came and she couldn’t.

  Lorna arrived shortly afterwards and bought a cake. ‘No chocolate ones this week? Not that I don’t really like a Victoria sponge but—’

  ‘I know, I’m sorry. Grand has spent all week mending Lady Anthea’s car so hasn’t had much time for baking – and he did it for nothing!’ She realised she should have kept this to herself, but her annoyance broke through her discretion.

  ‘That’s very kind of him. Anthea told me she broke down after the dinner party and your grandfather did the knight-in-shining-armour thing.’

  ‘Yes. But I didn’t expect him to do it for nothing.’

  ‘Nor did she.’ Lorna changed the subject. ‘Did you enjoy the dinner party, Philly, or were you working too hard for that? How was it for you lot in the kitchen?’

  Philly smiled. ‘Actually, I loved it. You’re right about it being hard work but I liked swooping in and being the heroine and lighting the range. Very good money, too. And a massive tip. I think that was down to you.’

  Lorna shook her head. ‘Not really. I mean, I did tell people you needed to be paid properly, but I think Kirstie was responsible for the massive tip.’

  Philly sighed as she rearranged the stall slightly, having wrapped Lorna’s Victoria sponge. ‘It’s a shame I earn so much more for my waitressing jobs than I do for raising plants, which is so much more skilled.’

  ‘It’s all wrong, isn’t it?’ Lorna dallied at the stall. ‘Philly, if I was allowed to take on a full-time assistant, would you be up for it? It might not be permanent, although goodness knows I need someone, but just to get the garden in shape for this sculpture show?’

  ‘Oh! I heard about that. At least, Lady Anthea told Grand, who told me. And I’d certainly like to think about it.’

  ‘It needn’t be absolutely full-time – just a few hours a day. But I think between us we could really make an impression.’

  ‘That could be perfect for me. As long as I have some hours for my plants. Hey – my new polytunnel has arrived and we’re hoping to get it up this afternoon. I’m so excited!’

  ‘I bet you are. Let me know if you need a hand. I’ve got nothing much on later.’

  ‘How kind. Can I say yes please? These things are always easier with extra hands to hold things down.’

  ‘Let me know when you’re ready and I’ll be over.’

  ‘I will.’ As a potential customer arrived at that moment Lorna slipped away. Philly smiled. ‘What can I get for you?’

  Grand rejoined her a little later. ‘I’ve invited your man there to come over after the market. I think he might be able to add something to our offering, if he really can make bread.’

  ‘Today? We’ve got the polytunnel to put up this afternoon.’

  ‘I know, but putting it up needn’t take long. We could ask him to help with it.’

  ‘Lorna’s already offered,’ said Philly. ‘And I said yes.’

  ‘Well, no one ever said “too many hands don’t make light work!”’ her grandfather objected.

  ‘They did say “too many cooks spoil the broth”.’

  ‘Come on now. No need to panic.’

  Philly had rather hoped her panic hadn’t been noticeable. She sighed. ‘So when’s he coming?’ she asked, inclining her head in the direction of the cheese stall.

  ‘I said, after the market. When he’s finished, at about one. I said we’d give him a spot of lunch.’ He regarded her expression. ‘Now what have I done? It’s no bother to knock up a bit of lunch, is it? We’ll have to eat ourselves, anyway.’

  ‘Grand! He’s a trained chef! What we do for ourselves is not – well, it’s not what trained chefs do.’

  Seamus shrugged. ‘But I’m sure you’ll find it’s what they eat when they’re not on duty.’

  Philly had to acknowledge the sense of this but was still racking her brains for something to give him that was not too shaming as they packed up the stall and went home.

  Once through the door, she had starting chopping onions before she’d taken her coat off, so anxious was she to have something made before Lucien arrived.

  ‘What are you doing?’ said Seamus. ‘Girl dear, take your outdoor things off before you start cooking. What are you making?’

  ‘Soup. There’s bound to be some vegetables I can put in it, and you taught me soup is almost always the best choice for lunch.’

  Seamus seemed surprised. ‘Well, I’m glad to think I’ve taught you something. Will I peel you a couple of potatoes?’

  ‘That would be amazing.’ She found some moderately fresh chicken fat in the fridge and emptied it into a pan. Then she added the onions. ‘It’ll be OK. Now, I could make a frittata or something—’

  ‘No,’ said her grandfather firmly. ‘We’ll have soup and bread and cheese. I know the bread is from the supermarket but it’s posh bread, and the cheese comes from the stall where he works. That will be quite good enough for your young man.’

  ‘He’s not my young man!’ Philly shrieked.

  ‘Then why are you making so much fuss?’

  ‘Because he’s a chef,’ Philly went on more calmly.

  ‘He’s a hungry boy. Whatever you put in front of him will be grand.’

  Only half an hour later, Lucien came with a large package of cheese. Thank goodness the soup was now simmering away, thought Philly as she accepted the package.

  ‘Thank you so much for this. As we’re only having bread and cheese for lunch, and some soup, this will add some variety.’ She paused. ‘You’re probably fed up with cheese.’ Philly wished she didn’t sound so apologetic even though she was apologising.

  ‘Never,’ said Lucien. ‘I love cheese. It’s one of the many reasons I work at the cheese stall.’

  The men were sitting round the hastily cleared kitchen table, although Seamus’s idea of a clear table meant the newspapers were in a neat pile up one end, while Philly put soup into bowls, none of which matched.

  ‘And what’s one of the other reasons for working on a cheese stall?’ asked Seamus a little later, when the first few spoonfuls had gone down.

  Lucien grinned. ‘They offered me a job. This is great soup,’ he went on. ‘Bags of flavour. I bet you didn’t get that from a stock cube.’

  ‘A couple of stock cubes,’ Philly admitted. ‘But I fried the onions in the chicken fat from last Sunday’s roast.’

  He nodded. ‘Lots of flavour in fat.’

  Philly realised her grandfather was right. Lucien was very hungry and ate with enthusiasm.

  ‘So,’ said her grandfather, ‘tell us a bit about yourself, Lucien.’

  ‘Grand!’ said Philly. ‘Don’t interrogate the poor man.’

  ‘Sure, I’m not interrogating him. I’m just interested. If he’s going to be putting his home-made bread on our stall, I have to make sure he’s up to it,’ said Seamus calmly.

  To be fair (and Philly did try to be fair), Lucien didn’t seem that put out by her grandfather’s questions.

  ‘Well, I’m a trained chef, but I’m really interested in baking. Not cakes so much but bread.’

  ‘So did you train right out of school?’ asked Seamus. ‘And didn’t your parents want you to go to university?’

  Lucien smiled again. He had a slightly crooked smile but very straight teeth. Philly decided he’d probably had a brace when he was growing up, to have teeth that even. ‘How did you guess?’

  ‘The way you speak,’ said Seamus. ‘And how do they feel about you being a chef? Did you go to college to train or learn on t
he job?’

  ‘Bit of both,’ said Lucien. ‘I sort of left home when they were so angry with me for not going to uni. I had good A Levels and they thought they’d be wasted in a kitchen.’

  Seamus and Philly exchanged glances. ‘I sort of left home, too,’ said Philly. ‘My parents had different ideas from mine about what would make me happy.’

  ‘But Seamus is your grandfather, isn’t he? How is that leaving home?’

  Lucien seemed more confused than critical although Philly did feel embarrassed. To cover this, she said, ‘Oh, when I left home I took the precaution of taking my grandfather with me.’

  ‘I left home too,’ said Seamus. ‘We’re a pair of runaways.’

  ‘Although we do go home for Christmas if it’s not our turn to have the family here,’ said Philly.

  Lucien found this very amusing. ‘Well, I did it properly! I had a little money my godfather had given me for my eighteenth birthday and I managed to draw it out before they could put it in another account I didn’t have access to. I bought my van with it and drove until I found someone who’d give me a job. I worked as a washer-up for a few weeks but I pretty soon realised I needed qualifications or it would take me ages to work my way up.’

  ‘And qualifications cost money,’ said Seamus.

  ‘Yup. Fortunately I still had just enough to pay for a short pro-cookery course if I worked in the evenings and at weekends. I got my qualification. It meant I could apply for better jobs in restaurants. But although I was learning a lot I wasn’t earning enough to keep myself, really.’

  ‘I understand that,’ said Philly. ‘You work appallingly hard and you still don’t earn enough to eat. I’d be sunk if it wasn’t for Grand – my grandfather here.’

  ‘And the fact you do other jobs,’ Seamus put in.

  ‘You were great the other night,’ said Lucien. ‘You have valuable skills.’

  Philly, who was beginning to relax, laughed. ‘Because I could get the old range going? It was easy! There was about a ton of really dry wood. I couldn’t go wrong. Really.’