AllFreeNovel
Share Us
And it’s been raining for three days. I’m not going round there, risking another wet shirt incident.
The worst of it is that while he’s reverted to hating me, I can’t make myself hate him.
Pathetic, I know.
It is the real reason I haven’t made more of an effort to see him. That stuff about minding the shop, it’s not the whole truth. I’m worried if he shuts the door in my face, it’ll hurt me too much.
But now with him apparently hell-bent on cutting off the bushes and refusing to even dignify me with a discussion, I have no choice but to ask for help.
Myles listens calmly and promises to look into it. Half an hour later, he calls back. “You’re right about the basic facts. They’re nominal boundaries. That’s why it’s marked with dashes instead of a solid line. Which means the owners of all four properties share right of access to the hill.”
I breathe out in relief. “So, he can’t landscape anything without my approval.”
“Yes and no. You can contest the access, but he can request an arbitration to have the boundary formalised.” Myles is calm and unflappable. “My colleagues in the land registry say he will more than likely get what he wants. There is no reason to refuse him.”
I glance outside. “The rain has slowed down and looks like stopping. Any time now demolition-Desmond next door will be out again with his electric hatchet.”
Myles laughs quietly on the other end. “The forecast is for another day of rain, so you’re safe until tomorrow at least.”
“And then what will happen to all those plants that are unique and irreplaceable?”
“My advice is to apply for an injunction on environmental grounds. Conservation is your strongest card. If you can make a case for the plants or the bees involved being endangered, he will never be granted permission to cut them.”
Of course, I can make this case. A few hours with Grandad and his favourite subject, and I have enough for the initial application.
Myles has moved with lighting speed, or he’s called in favours at the Municipalité, because public officials never act fast. Less than two hours later, he calls to tell me a letter will be sent to the owner of Low Catch by courier, early the next morning, prohibiting him from any work on the gardens.
My relief is darkened by the feeling I’ve played into the prejudice against Hal and his family. Or at the very least, a long-running conflict between him and Myles. Putting the phone down, I’m sorry to have given him ammunition to oppose Hal. Everywhere I look is something Hal made for me: the ladder shelves, the hexagon boxes. He took two days to help with my shop and now I’ve caused him trouble.
He's not going to be happy about that letter, is he? Maybe I can do something to soften the impact a bit. I look around then find a nice gift basket with three jars of honey, a box of honeycomb, a bag of bee pollen. I don’t feel brave enough to knock on his door, so I decide to write him a short note.
Hi. I thought you might like a taste from the shop.
Too glib.
Hal, Can we please talk?
Too serious.
In the end, I make do with a very lame sounding,Hope you like these. Elodie.And leave the basket on the front gate into Low Catch.
Chapter Thirty-One
Elodie
The next day is sunny and warm; spring has truly come. I leave Doris and Grandad together to mind the shop. In case she panics, he should be able to deal with money or customers. Then I go upstairs and peek from my bedroom window to see if the basket is still on the gate. It is. But just then, a youth cycles over, props his bike against the gate and pulls a large manila envelope from his satchel. This must be the courier from the Municipalité. On his way through the garden gate, he sees my basket and takes it in with him. Okay, that should hopefully make the arrival of the letter less hostile.
I go downstairs and out through the kitchen to the back garden hoping to see Hal and have a calm discussion.
A few steps along and I wish I’d worn Wellies because the ground is still muddy after yesterday’s rain.
I’m hovering uncertainly halfway to Hal’s pod, wondering if I should go back when he bursts out of his door, the letter in his hand.
“What is the meaning of this?”
I’m not easily frightened, but the way he advances on me, face like thunder, intimidates me so much that I forget my carefully rehearsed words. “What it says in the letter.” I cross my arms over my chest to steady my fluttering nerves.
“Please explain to me how it is that I’m endangering the local wildlife,” he demands.
