Page 74 of The Twilight Garden

Gemma dropped to her haunches so she was more or less on the child’s level. ‘Well they look amazing,’ she said. ‘I’m sure you’ll be an expert very soon.’

Amy took her daughter’s hand with a final twinkling look at Gemma. ‘Right, kids, come on. Let’s go and do some digging!’

By the time two o’clock rolled around, Gemma was beginning to feel a little light-headed. Partly out of relief, and partly down to the unexpected generosity and friendship being shown to them. It might also be due to the fact that she hadn’t had anything to drink since early morning, and the slice of carrot cake she’d eaten earlier seemed a long time ago now. But mostly it was down to being among people who had come to help, simply because they could and for no other reason. It was a wonderful feeling.

She darted into the farmhouse to grab a cup of tea and a sandwich. There had been a steady stream of folks looking for refreshments for the last hour or so, and even though there was still plenty left, without Vicky’s contributions it would have been a rather poor show. She straightened the little card which let people know that their tearoom’s proprietress had been the baker behind all the sumptuous cakes, and helped herself to a blueberry muffin and a cheese and chutney roll.

She didn’t even hear the footsteps until someone walked past her, crossing to the window on the other side of the room.

‘Interesting place, this,’ said Gilly. ‘Those trees down by the planting… they look a bit lost down there. Like they’re marching off to somewhere but the somewhere doesn’t exist. Don’t suppose you’ve done any research into it, have you? Only I wouldn’t mind betting there was something else here once upon a time. Something a little grander, shall we say.’

Gemma joined her at the window. ‘We have, as it happens. And found something rather unexpected but completely wonderful. You can’t quite see it from here, but if I take you around the other side of the building you might be interested in what we found there.’

‘Lead on then,’ said Gilly. ‘Piece of cake first, though,’ she added, making straight for the tables where the food was laid out. Moments later, she wafted a slice of Victoria sponge towards the doorway. ‘After you.’

It was still something of a surprise to find the garden there, even to Gemma, who came every day. A little slice of heaven among the chaos that still grew on either side of it. Or a rose between two thorns, as Leo had said. She smiled at the memory.

‘Good lord,’ said Gilly, striding forward. ‘This is a bit unexpected. A proper Victorian showpiece, no less. What’s the story here then?’

She stood patiently listening while Gemma recounted the history of Thistledown and how she had found its story inside the pages of an old book. Then she nodded towards the pathway. ‘May I?’

‘Of course,’ replied Gemma. ‘Please do.’

She held out her hand inviting Gilly to go first and then followed her as she made her way slowly along the paths, pausing every now and again to inspect something a little more closely.

‘Need any help with this?’ she asked, as they reached the garden’s centre. She bent down to run a hand along the rough stone of one of the benches which stood there.

Gemma stared at her. ‘Do I?’ she said. ‘Yes please… if you can spare the time. It’s rather a labour of love as you can see, and needs a huge amount of work to return it to its former glory. It’s time which is not always easy to come by given everything else which goes on here.’

Gilly nodded. ‘Happy to.’ She tapped Gemma’s arm. ‘There’s one thing you should know about us gardeners. We collect seeds like other people take holiday photos. Everywhere we go, nabbing a bit of this, a bit of that. Got drawers full of things we’ve collected, either from our own plants or someone else’s. And I can’t speak for the rest but I can never use all mine, and I suspect the same is true for them. I usually find myself giving them away to friends – non-gardening friends, that is – in the hope it might spur them on to do great things. But I wouldn’t be at all surprised if they end up in the bin.’ She shrugged. ‘Such is life. But this could be a very good place to re-home anything I don’t need. What do you think?’

‘I think we should go and get a cup of tea,’ said Gemma. ‘And have a little chat. I need to tell you about a wonderful woman named Flora.’

It was seven o’clock. It was warm and sunny, the light golden as it fell onto the kitchen table through the open door. And around it sat Gemma and Leo, Rowan and Willow, in silent witness to the most wonderful day.

All in all, they’d had thirty-nine people through the gates of Thistledown. Along the track and into the gardens they’d gone, across the yard and into the old farmhouse, and each and every one of them had swelled time by so much that dozens of boxes had been filled with produce which had either been salvaged or was ready to be harvested. Plants had been tended to, rescued and replaced safely back into the ground. Beds had been re-dug, their edges repaired, leaving soil fresh, smooth and ready for the next crops to come, and hopes had been restored. Some wanted to continue their relationship with Thistledown and some didn’t, but everyone had helped, and everyone had made a difference.

It had been some time since anybody had moved. They were all used to hard physical work, to long hours, but there had been something about this day that had left them with far more aching muscles than usual, not least the ones in their faces from smiling so much. But nobody minded. It was the tiniest of prices to pay for what had happened, and tomorrow was another day. And tomorrow was another day, that was the point. As would be the day after that and the day after that. They had all the tomorrows now.

Gemma picked up her mug and stared at the bottom of it, long since empty of tea. She could use another cup, but somehow the thought of getting up to make another pot was beyond her. She got to her feet though. If she needed another drink, she was certain everyone else would.

To her surprise, Leo sprang up from the table, looking equally surprised to find himself standing.

‘I’ve just remembered,’ he said, crossing the kitchen. ‘I hid this last night. I thought it might come in handy.’ He turned around, pulling out something from the fridge with a flourish.

‘Ta-dah!’

It was a bottle of champagne.

‘I thought we ought to have it, either to celebrate with or…’ He smiled sheepishly. ‘I was going to say get drunk with because I wasn’t sure we’d be celebrating. I should have known better…’ He looked at Gemma, the warmth of his smile lifting her up as she remembered the hug they had shared just after he had waved away the last of their guests. They’d shared another not long after that, too.

‘Mind you,’ added Leo. ‘There’s probably not enough to get drunk with, not between four of us.’

‘Make that five,’ said Willow as Ashley came in through the kitchen door, carrying a box which she set down on the table. ‘Come and sit with us,’ added Willow. ‘We’re just about to have a drink.’

Ashley smiled. ‘I ought to get going, and leave you to your evening,’ she said. ‘But I’ve sorted out all the produce so there’s equal amounts in all the boxes. I’ve left them stacked on the tables in the farmhouse. I hope that’s okay. Those that wanted one can either come and pick them up or I’m happy to deliver them round for you tomorrow, if it helps.’

Rowan tapped the back of the chair nearest to him. ‘Sit,’ he said. ‘And there’ll be no talk of going until you’ve had a drink with us. At least one. You’ve earned that much.’