‘Oh, yes. I like the funny man on that.’
‘Yeah, sweetheart. Me too.’
‘Do you like the funny man, Lottie?’
At this, Seb’s brother smirked and gave me a wink. ‘Bearing in mind she’s hanging around with this one, I’m pretty sure Lottie likes funny men.’
Seb gave Jamie a patient look. ‘You’re hilarious.’
‘I am. It’s a talent.’
His brother rolled his eyes, but the laughter was there.
‘Right then, shall we go?’ his dad asked me.
I nodded, followed him out and a few minutes later we were walking up a small lane to the side of the house that led up to the allotments.
‘Seb said you don’t live too far away. Do you often walk up here?’
‘Sometimes I take the car. It depends what I need to do really, but it’s nice to take a walk. Keeps everything moving, you know.’
‘As someone who sits at a screen for far too long each day, I know exactly what you mean.’
‘It gets me out of the house too, which can be a good thing.’
‘I’m sure.’
‘Where’s your little dog today then?’ he asked. He really did have all the data on me it appeared.
‘He’s over with my parents.’
‘You should have brought him. Maybe next time.’
I smiled, unsure as to whether there would be a next time but warmed by the thought that he, at least, felt there would.
‘It’s handy being so close as I can usually see the grandchildren, even if it’s just for a few minutes, or just to drop some veggies off for Olivia.’
‘It must be nice to be so close to them. My parents and sister don’t live too far from me and I’m always popping in. I have friends, of course, but I think I’d really miss it if I wasn’t able to see my family.’
‘I’m sure. You sound like you’re close with them. That’s good.’ He nodded, his expression thoughtful. ‘It’s a shame Seb doesn’t live closer. I think he misses seeing his brother and the children. The little ones grow all the time and he’s missing out on that. And, of course, Olivia adores him, having adopted him as her own big brother.’
I couldn’t help but notice he’d left himself out of all the equations there. ‘He has mentioned wishing he could see them more.’
His dad nodded, unlatching a steel bar gate and pushing it open, a loud squeak emanating from its hinges as he did so. The sound apparently acted as some kind of doorbell, alerting a few of the other allotmenteers to the entrance of another of their clan and various hands were waved and greetings called.
‘They adore him, those kids. They think he’s just wonderful and, of course, his injury is normal to them. They’ve never known him as anything different. In fact, they love telling people about their uncle with his special leg. It only makes him even better in their eyes.’
‘That’s lovely.’
‘Yes. It’s a shame he can’t see it.’
Before I could respond, not that I knew what to say, Mr Marshall had stopped in front of a regimentally tidy allotment plot.
‘Here we are. Let me introduce you to my plants.’
I smiled, thinking how well this man would get on with my own parents. They’d been great advocates of talking to their plants for years, even though as teenagers Sally and I would both give exaggerated eye rolls and mutter something about how parents could be so embarrassing sometimes. Still, whatever the magic was, it had worked and still did. It was pretty rare for Mum and Dad to have a failure in the garden and when they did, they would have a friendly bicker over who hadn’t been chatting to that particular plant, leaving it to feel sad and die off. My parents had always been more free-willed than some, so their technique didn’t surprise me. I couldn’t help but be a little more surprised at the upright, ex-army man doing it, especially after what Seb had said, and the awkwardness I’d experienced earlier between the two.
‘Hello, troops!’ he said, stepping into the greenhouse and beckoning me to follow him in. I grinned at the address. It seemed there was always the odd lingering reminder of a life in the services. ‘How are we all doing today? This is Lottie, a friend of Seb’s. She’s come for a visit, so I want you all on your best behaviour.’
