‘Sorry?’
‘Fun, Beth. What do you do for fun?’
I try not to fall over, Tara. It’s quite the rush.
‘Usual stuff,’ she replied. ‘Movies, gigs, Saturday markets in the park and I…’
‘What?’
‘Nah, you’ll laugh!’
‘Possibly,’ Tara responded, ‘but don’t let that stop you.’’
‘I have an allotment.’
The smile flew across Tara’s face quicker than expected. ‘An allotment?’
‘Yes.’
‘Like a patch of grass you grow vegetables in? Ha, I never took you for a farmer, Beth.’
‘See, I knew you’d make fun of me!’ Beth exclaimed. ‘And no, I’m not a bloody farmer. Gah, you’re still so annoying.’
‘Sorry,’ Tara replied, laughing. ‘Do you bring your own hoe or is there like a communal one?’
‘Forget it.’
Beth was reluctant to carry on the conversation. She’d had the allotment for years. Their garden at home was completely paved over and too small to transform into anything worthwhile. All they had was a wooden shed, left by the previous owners which Paul had immediately commandeered.
‘I’m just messing,’ Tara assured her. ‘Tell me.’
‘It’s actually quite a young crowd that have patches there,’ she said defensively. ‘Not everyone is retired. And I enjoy it. I grow veg, plants, flowers and it calms me. In the summer it’s a glorious place to be. It might not be London or New York, but it makes me happy.’
‘It sounds like hard work,’ Tara replied. ‘Fair play to you, I wouldn’t have a clue where to begin. Besides, I’m not the biggest fan of nature.’
She swatted at a wasp which seemed to take offence at her last statement.
‘I swear, if this wasp doesn’t piss off, I’m going to flatten it,’ Tara said, flapping her hands around her face. ‘It’s basically goading me at this point, it’s like Conor McGregor at weigh-in.’
Alex squirmed. ‘That’s what you get for eating fruit outdoors,’ she said, keeping one eye on the wasp in case it decided to have a go at her next. ‘You’re practically inviting it to dinner. Jeez, you’re waving at it as well; did they teach you nothing at primary school?’
‘Becky, help me out, will ya?’
Becky raised her sunglasses and looked over. ‘Me? What can I do?’
Tara was now standing. ‘Anything! Come on, you’re the bee whisperer. Tell it to bugger off.’
‘Bees and wasps are very different,’ she replied, lowering her glasses. ‘Wasps are much harder to reason with. Just stay still, it’ll move on.’
‘You can talk to insects?’ Christine enquired from the shaded patio.
Becky gave a little laugh. ‘God no, that would be ridiculous. They’re just joshing because I’ve never been stung. Like I must have some affinity with bees or something.’
Christine went back to reading.
By now, Tara had returned to the patio area and the wasp had moved on. Paul quickly moved onto her lounger.
‘Whatcha reading there, Christine?’ Tara asked. ‘Any good?’
