Chapter 10
Anne Marie parked her car outside Garrard House, but didn’t go back inside for fear of Grant complaining about what she was doing again. She’d had her fill of that today. Instead, she opened the boot and reached in for a pair of wellies, taking off her shoes and pulling on a thick pair of woolly socks. She was actually quite excited by the idea of getting stuck in. They had such a tiny garden at Garrard House and there really wasn’t very much to it other than a lawn, a laurel hedge and a couple of nondescript conifers in pots. She had once made the suggestion of sowing a wildflower area. Actually, she had been hoping to dig up the whole boring lawn and turn it over to poppies, cornflowers and daisies. Grant had looked at her in horror. She’d have thought that a man so in tune with the beauty of classic novels and poetry would have welcomed the romance of a meadow, but he was very attached to that little piece of lawn, mowing it in neat stripes and sitting out on it briefly a few times a year with his gin and tonic and a newspaper.
As she walked to Morton Hall, Anne Marie wondered what kind of garden Cape had. She couldn’t imagine him being happy with a lawn and a laurel hedge. She visualised grand herbaceous borders and pots overflowing with colour.
‘Anne Marie!’
Cape was striding across the driveway towards her. He was wearing a tartan cap and a wax jacket and his cheeks blazed red from being out in the cold.
‘You walked up the driveway!’
‘Yes, I thought I’d give it a go.’
‘Come and see what we’ve found,’ he said.
‘What is it?’
‘Wait and see.’
Mac was at the far end of the walled garden in the digger when they entered. Anne Marie sent him a wave and he returned it. She followed Cape over the uneven ground and stopped just outside the greenhouse.
‘It’s a violin!’ Anne Marie said, quite unnecessarily, when she saw the black case.
‘I know!’ Cape laughed as he opened it up.
‘Was it here in the garden?’
‘Just over there,’ Cape said, pointing to an area of ground that had now been cleared. ‘Amongst the brambles.’
‘Why would someone leave a violin in a garden?’
‘Do you think they threw it out on purpose or left it accidentally?’
‘I don’t know,’ Anne Marie said. ‘How long’s it been out here?’
‘There’s moss on the case,’ Cape said.
‘It’s lucky the instrument isn’t damaged. Well, not superficially at least.’
‘Maybe Mrs Beatty will know something about it.’
Anne Marie smiled. ‘Yes! We could ask her.’
‘Just what we thought, and it would be a good excuse to see the house again.’
‘If she lets us in.’
‘She couldn’t not on a day like today,’ Cape said, glancing up at the grey sky that was threatening rain.
‘Shall we go?’ Anne Marie asked and Cape grinned and nodded, fastening the violin case and motioning to Mac in the digger.
‘Anyone else turn up yet?’
‘Not yet,’ Cape said as they left the walled garden.
‘I wanted to come earlier, but I had to go and see my mother.’
‘She lives locally?’
‘Yes.’
‘That’s nice.’
Anne Marie didn’t say anything.
‘Isn’t it?’ Cape prodded.
‘Isn’t it what?’ Anne Marie said, deliberately evading his question.
‘Nice. I mean, you’re lucky to have your mother nearby.’
‘Oh, I see. Well, of course. I don’t have to travel far.’ She was all too aware that Cape’s eyes were upon her. ‘What?’
He shrugged. ‘You tell me.’
‘Tell you what?’
‘You’re all prickly.’
‘No, I’m not.’
‘Are you okay?’
‘I’m fine.’ She quickened her pace and, with relief, reached the front door of the house where she turned to face Cape. He was carrying the violin and leaned forward and rang the doorbell.
It was a moment or two before the door was opened by Mrs Beatty, who greeted them with a frown.
‘Is everything all right?’ she asked them, her tone suggesting she didn’t care either way.
Cape cleared his throat and lifted up the violin case for her to see. Her face immediately blanched.
‘Where did you find that?’
‘In the walled garden near the greenhouse.’
‘Give it to me.’
‘Who did it belong to?’ Cape asked.
‘It belongs to the house,’ Mrs Beatty said as she took the violin from him.
Anne Marie could see that her hand now clasping the violin case was shaking.
‘Was it Miss Morton’s?’ she asked.
Mrs Beatty didn’t say anything, but she was looking down at the violin case as if she didn’t quite believe what she was seeing.
Anne Marie felt Cape nudging her arm with his elbow as if to alert her to Mrs Beatty’s reaction.
‘We’d better get back to the garden,’ he said, though they both waited a moment longer in case Mrs Beatty decided to say something else. But she didn’t. Instead she did a funny sort of shuffling reverse and closed the door to them.
‘Well,’ Cape said, ‘we didn’t get invited in.’
‘She looked really shocked.’
‘You don’t think the violin was hers, do you?’
Anne Marie shook her head. ‘Her hand was shaking.’
‘Yes.’
‘I wish she’d talk to us. She doesn’t seem to want to share anything about the house with us at all.’
‘Give it a few weeks. Who knows, she might don a pair of wellies and join us in the garden sometime.’
Anne Marie smiled. ‘I can’t quite see that myself.’
It wasn’t until after lunch that the rest of the group turned up to help. Cape, Mac and Anne Marie had eaten their packed lunches in the kitchen. The three of them had chatted amiably enough, speculating on the violin and wondering what else they might dig up in the garden during its restoration.
Now, back outside, Cape watched Anne Marie as she worked. She was talking to Kathleen while Dorothy, Erin, Patrick and his two sons were working on the other side of the garden, throwing broken pots, old bricks and other debris into a wheelbarrow. He felt strangely drawn to Anne Marie. What was her story? He kept getting little hints of it: the step-daughters who didn’t want to spend time with her, and the mother who appeared to make Anne Marie reticent at best and miserable at worst. She seemed to be sad and yet there were glimpses of such joy within her. He loved to see her smile. She was smiling now at something Kathleen had said and, looking up suddenly, she caught his eye and he smiled back.
He walked across to join them.
‘Everything okay?’ he asked.
‘Good,’ Kathleen said.
‘Kath was just telling me about a few of her gardening disasters,’ Anne Marie said.
‘I mistakenly thought I might be able to grow things,’ she said. ‘But I stick to fake flowers in the house these days.’
Cape grimaced at the thought. ‘I see we’ll have to restore not only this garden, but your faith in gardening too.’
‘Could take a lot of work,’ she warned him.
‘I’ve never been one to shy away from work,’ Cape said. ‘What kind of jobs do you think you’d get on best with?’
Kathleen looked thoughtful. ‘Well, I don’t want to risk killing anything so don’t put me in charge of tending anything delicate.’
‘Duly noted.’
‘Maybe I could be a general dogsbody, and I don’t mind a bit of weeding.’
‘Really?’ Anne Marie said. ‘That’s my least favourite job.’
‘I actually quite like it,’ Kathleen said. ‘I find it a good stress buster.’
‘Well, we’ve got plenty of weeds here,’ Cape said, ‘and it’ll be an ongoing job once we start planting up the vegetable garden.’
‘Then I’m your woman,’ Kathleen told him.
‘Good,’ Cape said, turning around as Mac approached in his digger.
‘Going to need to clear this area,’ he told them as he hopped out onto the ground.
‘Sure thing,’ Cape said. ‘We’ll make ourselves scarce.’
Cape walked across to where the rest of them were working.
‘We’re going to need to move on for a bit,’ he told them.
‘Oh, what a shame,’ Dorothy said. ‘I was just finding my rhythm in here.’
‘Dorothy’s shifted most of those bricks by herself,’ Erin said with a grin, nodding to the wheelbarrow.
‘Don’t do yourself a mischief on day one,’ Cape warned her.
‘I’ve never felt fitter,’ she said. ‘Getting out in the fresh air suits me. Are you sure we have to move?’
‘Just for a bit while Mac clears the ground.’
‘So what can we do?’ Kathleen asked. She and Anne Marie had joined them now.
‘I think we could start by clearing a few of the paths around the garden,’ Cape told them. ‘There are some really lovely red-brick ones that have been lost over the years. I’ll occasionally catch a glimpse of one and it would be nice to restore them.’
‘Great!’ Kathleen said.
‘I’d start by shifting all the dead leaves. There are old plastic sacks over there that Mac brought with him. If we fill those with the leaves and pop a few holes in the bottom, they’ll make pretty good compost for future years.’
‘I’m impressed,’ Dorothy said. ‘You’re thinking ahead.’
‘It was Mac’s idea,’ Cape said. He’d been impressed by Mac’s foresight too. Compost was the foundation of every good garden. It was a natural product that was easy to come by and would save the estate money. ‘There are some rakes over there and a couple of brooms.’
Everybody went and grabbed an implement and followed Cape out of the walled garden.
‘How are your boys getting on?’ Cape asked Patrick as they fell into step together.
‘They’re not used to being outdoors,’ Patrick said with a weary sigh. ‘Mind you, neither am I. I think we all spend an unhealthy amount of time at our computers.’
‘That’s the modern world, isn’t it?’
‘They looked at me as if I was mad when I told them about this project,’ Patrick went on. ‘“It’s winter,” they kept saying, but they don’t go out in the summer either.’ He sighed. ‘Are you sure this is a good idea?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘This whole gardening thing? I mean, we’re a bunch of old folks and kids who know next to nothing.’
Cape frowned. ‘That’s not true. Mac and I—’
‘Yeah, I know you guys know what you’re doing, but what use are the rest of us?’
‘That’s what we’re trying to establish here,’ Cape told him. ‘But I’m really confident everyone can play an important role.’
‘Well, you’ve got more optimism than I have,’ Patrick confessed.
‘And we’re hardly old,’ Cape said, picking up on his earlier comment.
‘Oh, come on – that Dorothy woman?’
‘She’s coping okay, isn’t she?’
‘Maybe for now, but I don’t want to be responsible if she keels over and has a heart attack.’
Cape almost choked in shock at the comment and Dorothy must have heard it too, because she turned around and glared at him.
‘I beg your pardon?’ she said, her face clouding over.
Patrick wiped his hands on the front of his jeans. ‘Look, lady – all I meant was that you’re no spring chicken.’
There was a sharp intake of breath from Dorothy. ‘I’ll have you know that I have absolutely no intention of keeling over and, if I do, I’ll make sure it’s as far away from you as possible!’
Cape did his best to hide his amusement at this as he turned to face Patrick, who had the good grace to look a little shamefaced.
‘I didn’t mean—’ Patrick began.
‘Dorothy’s more than pulling her weight,’ Erin said. ‘Have you seen the amount of bricks she’s moved today? And she did it all with a smile on her face, which is more than some people can manage around here.’
‘Okay, okay!’ Patrick said in defeat.
‘I think you might owe Dorothy an apology,’ Cape whispered.
He noticed that Patrick’s two boys were lagging behind the group. The older one, Matthew, was shuffling his feet along the ground while Elliot, a couple of years younger, had picked up a stick and was thrashing the hedge with it. Kathleen was watching in obvious disapproval.
‘How about I give them something really fun to do?’ Cape said.
‘Like what?’ Patrick asked.
‘There’s a yew bush that’s been growing in a pot for a while. It’s been kind of an experiment of mine. I haven’t been able to make up my mind what to do with it. Your boys could practise on it if they want.’
‘Practise what exactly?’
‘Topiary. Clipping.’
‘And you’re sure they can’t do any damage?’ Patrick asked.
‘They’ll only be using secateurs,’ Cape assured him.
‘No, I didn’t mean damage to themselves, I meant to the yew bush.’
‘Oh, right. No. It’s pretty indestructible.’
‘Well, if you’re sure.’
‘I think it might get them interested, you know?’
Patrick gave a snort. ‘You reckon?’
‘Got to be worth a try, hasn’t it?’ Cape said, trying not to be discouraged by Patrick’s response.
‘I guess,’ Patrick said.
‘Right, boys!’ Cape clapped his hands together in enthusiasm as he turned towards Matthew and Elliot. ‘Have you ever heard of topiary?’
They both looked up at him with bored, sulky expressions on their faces.
‘No? Well, it’s a way of clipping hedges into shapes. You can make anything from animals to crowns. The only thing limiting you is your own imagination.’
The spark that Cape had hoped to ignite remained unlit.
‘Come with me,’ Cape said, leading them across the lawn towards the topiary garden.
‘What do you think of these, then?’ he asked as the boys stared up at the strange shapes above and around them.
‘They’re weird,’ Matthew announced.
‘Kind of freaky,’ Elliot declared.
‘I think they’re kind of cool,’ Cape said.
‘Why are you showing them to us?’ Matthew asked in suspicion.
‘Because I think you can have a good go at making one of these yourselves.’
‘Seriously?’ Matthew said.
‘Seriously. See that pot over there?’
The boys nodded.
‘It’s yours. It’s a yew bush. A lot of topiary is made out of yew. It’s easy to work with.’ He reached into one of his jacket pockets and brought out two small pairs of secateurs and handed one each to the boys before giving them the world’s quickest lesson in topiary shaping.
‘So, we can make anything?’ Matthew asked once he’d finished.
‘Anything you like.’
‘A football?’ Elliot suggested.
‘That’s a good idea, although round shapes can be deceptively hard to get absolutely perfect,’ Cape warned them.
‘I’m going to make a dragon,’ Matthew announced, enthusiasm showing at last.
‘I wouldn’t be too ambitious either,’ Cape warned. ‘Maybe something in between a football and a dragon.’
‘Or a dragon kicking a football!’ Matthew said.
Cape laughed. ‘One day. But perhaps not today.’ He paused and then clapped his hands together. ‘Right, I’ll leave you to it. We’ll be just round the corner so holler if you need any help.’
Cape left, but couldn’t help turning to take one last look at the boys who were standing examining the potted yew bush as if it were an alien life form. He grinned. They’d soon get stuck in. Now it was his turn – clearing one of the beautiful brick pathways that lay hidden under years of fallen leaves, moss and general debris.
He was thrilled to see that his fellow gardeners had taken the initiative and made a start with the rakes and brooms; a section of the path had already come to life, waking up after its slumber, ready to be admired and used once again.
It was good, satisfying work, which quickly built up the body’s temperature so that you forgot just how cold the January afternoon was. He noticed that Patrick was keeping his distance from Dorothy, but that the women were working well together. He walked towards them.
‘Dorothy?’ he said. ‘Can I have a word?’
The old lady looked up and nodded. ‘Everything okay?’
They walked down the path out of earshot of the group.
‘I was just making sure you’re all right. After Patrick’s comments, I mean.’
Dorothy glanced over to where Patrick was raking leaves and took a deep breath as if fortifying herself.
‘If he thinks he can turf me out of this project then he’s wrong!’ she declared. ‘I might be old, but I’m not dead yet!’
Cape grinned. ‘That’s the spirit.’
‘In fact, I’ve never felt more alive,’ she went on. ‘I might move slightly slower than you young ones, but I hope I can be of some use to you all.’
‘But you are,’ Cape assured her.
‘Well, that’s good to hear,’ she said, ‘and, if I feel any keeling over coming on, I’ll let you know.’ She gave Cape a little wink and they returned to the group.
‘Hey, Cape – we could have a bonfire with all these leaves,’ Patrick suggested.
‘I think Cape wants them for compost,’ Anne Marie said.
Cape thought for a moment and came to a decision. ‘I think a bonfire to round our first day off would be a great idea,’ he said. ‘There’ll be plenty more leaves to collect in the garden for compost and these are good and dry so will make a nice fire to warm us up. Your boys will like that too, won’t they?’
Patrick shrugged. ‘They might. Or they might think it’s really lame. Everything’s really lame to them at the moment.’
‘Oh, dear,’ Dorothy said, compassion flooding her face. ‘It sounds like you’ve got a battle on your hands.’
‘You’re telling me. Everything I say or do is wrong, and they’re not even teenagers yet. I hate to think what happens when that stage kicks in.’
‘They’re probably just rebelling a bit since their mother . . .’ Kathleen began.
‘It’s okay. You can say it.’
‘I just meant—’
‘Since she walked out and hasn’t been in touch?’ Patrick said, suddenly full of fury. ‘I suppose that would screw you up pretty good as a kid, wouldn’t it?’
Dorothy, who was standing next to him, reached out and touched his shoulder. ‘These things take time,’ she said. ‘They’re finding their way in a new and difficult world.’
‘Aren’t we all?’ Patrick said with a derisive sort of snort.
‘When I lost my husband, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I felt sad and mad all at once. It took me ages to even want to leave the house. I felt as if everybody was staring at me, waiting to see if I’d crumble.’
Everybody had stopped working now and was listening to Dorothy.
‘That’s so sad,’ Erin said.
‘I know it’s not the same,’ Dorothy said, ‘but your boys are probably grieving in a similar way. They need time and love and support. They’ll get through it.’
Cape had been watching Patrick’s response to Dorothy’s words and could see that he felt deeply uneasy. He had cast his eyes down to the ground to avoid eye contact and was doing a funny sort of shuffle with his feet. Perhaps he was regretting his earlier words to her, especially now that she was showing such kindness towards him.
‘Something else they’ll benefit from is fresh air and plenty of exercise,’ Cape added to lighten the mood a little. ‘That’ll do them the power of good.’
‘I’m not sure it’s doing me the power of good,’ Kathleen said. ‘I’ve just broken a nail.’ Her tone was more amused than annoyed though.
‘You’re not wearing the gloves I gave you,’ Cape said. ‘They’ll save you from a dozen different mishaps in the garden.’
She nodded and walked across to the dilapidated bench where she’d left them. Patrick’s gaze followed her, but he quickly withdrew it when she turned around and came back, the gloves now firmly on.
Work resumed and the beautiful red-brick path continued to reveal itself to the gardeners.
‘Just look at the colour of these bricks,’ Dorothy enthused. ‘I wonder who the last person was to walk down this path.’
‘I often wonder that when I’m in the garden,’ Cape confessed. ‘I sometimes think I’ve caught a glimpse of somebody just walking into the shadows or around the corner. It makes you wonder if the ghosts of gardeners past are here.’
‘Oh, don’t!’ Erin said. ‘That’s spooky.’
‘Can gardens be haunted? Isn’t it just houses?’ Dorothy asked.
‘I don’t see why they can’t be,’ Kathleen said. ‘If somebody spends a long enough time in one place, they’re bound to leave a little bit of themselves behind.’
‘Maybe we’ll all leave a little bit of ourselves behind here,’ Cape suggested.
‘But this project only goes on for a year, doesn’t it?’ Patrick was quick to point out.
‘Initially,’ Cape said. ‘We’ll have to find a way of maintaining the gardens once they’re restored.’
‘Won’t that be somebody else’s job?’ Patrick asked.
‘I don’t know,’ Cape said honestly. ‘I thought maybe some of us would want to continue here.’
The group didn’t say anything. They still obviously had reservations about the amount of time they were willing to donate to this project.
‘I’d like to stay on,’ Anne Marie said.
Cape glanced her way and smiled. ‘Good.’
‘I might,’ Erin said. ‘Unless someone buys me a month’s holiday in Italy or I’m given my dream job in a museum or gallery.’
They continued work on the path for a while, but the light was beginning to fade. The sky had turned an eerie shade of sepia and the temperature had dropped. Mac emerged from the walled garden and stood admiring the path that had been unearthed.
‘Nice,’ he said, nodding in appreciation.
‘A pretty good first day’s work,’ Kathleen said.
‘Hey, I’d better see how your boys are getting on with that yew,’ Cape told Patrick who nodded, but didn’t offer to go with him.
Cape made his way to the topiary garden and instantly came to a standstill at the sight that greeted him. It was an evergreen apocalypse. Years of patient growth had been mercilessly hacked away in less than an hour, the devastation littering the ground around the terracotta pot. Cape cursed under his breath and looked around for the boys who were nowhere to be seen.
‘Boys?’ Cape shouted. ‘Matthew? Elliot? Where are you?’ He stood still, his head cocked to one side as he thought he heard voices. ‘Boys?’
‘We’re in the maze!’ a voice shouted back through the half-light of dusk.
It was then that Patrick joined him.
‘Where are the boys?’ he asked, looking around.
‘They’re in the maze,’ Cape said.
‘Dad?’ a voice yelled.
‘Elliot?’
‘We’re lost, Dad!’
Patrick gave a tiny grin. ‘Were they meant to go in the maze?’
‘I didn’t exactly give them permission,’ Cape confessed.
‘I see. And how did they get on with the—’ Patrick stopped, his mouth suddenly dropping open. ‘Bloody hell! Is that the plant you gave them?’
Cape rubbed his chin. ‘Erm, yeah.’
‘I’m guessing it shouldn’t look like that.’
‘Not in an ideal world.’
‘Little blighters,’ Patrick said.
‘I should have supervised them.’
Patrick shook his head. ‘This would still have happened. The minute your back was turned.’
‘I’ll go and get them out of the maze.’
‘Leave them in there,’ Patrick said.
‘But it’ll be getting dark soon,’ Cape pointed out.
‘Serve them right.’
Cape frowned, half amused, half appalled. ‘Are you sure?’
Patrick looked a little uneasy and then cleared his throat. ‘Well, just for a few more minutes.’
Cape nodded. ‘You got it.’
The cries from the maze continued.
‘Dad? Dad? Are you there? We can’t get out! Daaaaaad!’
Cape waited in a sort of agony. His instinct was to rush into action and head into the maze, but he couldn’t exactly defy Patrick’s wish, could he? He looked at him now as the daylight began to fade. There wasn’t that much time. He’d have to get a torch out if they left it much longer.
‘Erm, Patrick?’ he tried. ‘What do you want to do?’
The boys’ shouts from the maze had caused the others in the group to gather round.
‘What’s going on?’ Erin asked.
‘The boys are in the maze,’ Cape told them.
‘I take it they’re lost?’ Anne Marie said.
‘It sure sounds like they are,’ Mac said as the cries from the maze continued.
‘Shouldn’t someone go in after them?’ Dorothy said, looking from Cape to Patrick and back again.
Patrick held up a hand for a moment, his head nodding a little as if he was counting.
‘All right. In you go,’ he said to Cape.
Cape breathed a sigh of relief and took off at a cracking pace.
‘It’s all right, boys!’ he called. ‘Stay where you are and I’ll have you out in no time.’
Cape had never negotiated the maze so fast, not even the time Poppy had run off and got herself lost, though she hadn’t been so anxious – she’d simply laughed. He remembered the day so clearly. He’d followed that laugh until he’d found her, scooping her up in his arms and peppering her flushed cheek with kisses. He had a feeling that Matthew and Elliot were more likely to be peppered with reprimands than kisses when their father got hold of them.
‘There you are!’ Cape said a moment later as he rounded a corner and found the boys.
‘This place sucks!’ Matthew said.
‘It’s freaky,’ Elliot said. ‘Can we go home now?’
‘You sure can,’ Cape said. ‘Follow me and don’t get lost again.’
‘I’m not planning to,’ Matthew said in all seriousness, making Cape smile. He had a feeling these boys had learned a rather valuable lesson.
At last they reached the exit and Patrick was there to leap upon them.
‘What the hell do you think you were doing?’ he shouted, causing Dorothy and Anne Marie to flinch. Erin raised her eyebrows and Mac and Kathleen looked on in alarm.
‘We’re sorry,’ Matthew said. ‘We just wanted to have a look.’
‘I don’t mean the maze. I mean that yew bush!’ Patrick cried, pointing to the bare stump that was left in the pot.
The boys looked guiltily towards the mess they’d made.
‘How do you explain that, eh?’ Patrick demanded.
‘We didn’t know when to stop,’ Matthew said, his voice small.
‘Didn’t know when to stop!’ Patrick shook his head. ‘You need to apologise to Mr Colman right now!’
The boys turned to Cape.
‘Sorry,’ Matthew said.
‘Sorry,’ Elliot echoed.
‘That took years to grow,’ Cape told them. ‘We can’t have that sort of damage done to the garden if you’re to continue coming here.’
‘You’re inviting them back?’ Patrick asked in surprise.
‘Of course. They’ve got to learn and this is just their first day, but we’ll keep them under closer supervision, okay?’
‘Thank Mr Colman,’ Patrick told them.
‘Thank you, Mr Colman,’ the boys said in unison.
‘Right, let’s get you home before you do any more damage.’ Patrick raised a hand in farewell to the group. ‘We’ll see you tomorrow morning.’
The group muttered its goodbyes as he disappeared down the driveway with his boys.
‘What a very odd thing to do,’ Dorothy said. ‘I couldn’t have let those boys cry all that time in the maze if they’d been mine.’
‘What is wrong with that man?’ Kathleen asked.
‘I think the boys try him quite hard,’ Cape said in Patrick’s defence.
‘But to leave them like that,’ Dorothy said. ‘That just wasn’t right.’
‘He’s going through a tough time himself,’ Anne Marie pointed out.
‘That’s no excuse to take it out on those poor boys,’ Dorothy said. ‘Not after what they’ve been through.’
‘We just have to hope that Patrick gets lost in the maze at some point,’ Kathleen said. ‘Then we can let him stew in there for a bit.’
Dorothy chuckled at that.
‘Right, gotta go,’ Mac said. ‘I’ll be here first thing tomorrow.’
‘Good job today,’ Cape said and Mac gave a nod.
‘Yes, better head back before it’s too dark to see,’ Dorothy said.
‘I’ll walk with you,’ Kathleen said. ‘This driveway gives me the creeps in the dark.’
‘Me too,’ Erin said. ‘Anne Marie?’
‘I’ll be right with you,’ she said.
Everybody said their goodbyes, promising to return the next day.
‘You okay?’ Cape said as he was left standing alone with Anne Marie.
‘I just wanted to apologise,’ she said.
‘Apologise? What for?’
‘When I arrived today,’ she said, sinking her hands in the pockets of her coat. ‘I was a bit grumpy.’
‘Were you?’ Cape said.
‘A bit. Maybe.’
Cape studied her, watching her face as a look of regret passed over it. ‘Well, maybe just a little.’
She nodded. ‘Sorry. I’d – erm – just got back from visiting my mum.’
‘Yes, you said.’
‘She can . . .’ She paused. ‘. . . try a person.’
‘Like Patrick’s boys?’
Anne Marie gave a little smile. ‘Something like that.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘It’s okay. I’m kind of used to it now although it’s harder since my dad died. She seems to be getting worse.’
‘Worse – how?’
‘She’s never happy.’ Anne Marie took a deep breath. ‘I took her some flowers and she made this big show about the bouquet not being big enough.’
‘Really?’
‘She’s never satisfied.’
Cape couldn’t be sure because of the fading light, but there seemed to be tears in Anne Marie’s eyes.
‘It makes me so cross that she can still upset me like this. I’m a grown woman, for goodness’ sake.’
‘Hey,’ he said, reaching a hand out to squeeze her shoulder. ‘Parents are great at riling kids. It’s all part of the job description.’
‘Do your parents still rile you?’
‘I’m afraid I’ve lost both my parents.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry.’
He shrugged. ‘It was a long time ago. My mum died when I was seven and my dad died a few years ago. He used to rib me all the time, though.’
‘I don’t think my mum’s ever ribbed me,’ Anne Marie said. ‘She’s rubbed me up the wrong way – a lot!’
Cape laughed and Anne Marie joined in.
‘Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh,’ he said.
‘It’s okay. I needed to.’
‘But you’ve had a good day here?’
‘I’ve had a brilliant day.’
‘Work in the garden can alleviate all sorts of trouble, I find. Everything just falls away as you focus on the job in hand. It’s like being in a gym with a therapist.’
Anne Marie laughed again.
‘I just hope Patrick manages to find his stride,’ Cape said.
‘He’s still riling everyone.’
‘Yes. It seems to be his default setting, but let’s see how things go, eh? It’s early days.’
Anne Marie nodded. ‘Right, I’d better get going,’ she said.
‘Let me give you a lift.’
‘It’s okay.’
‘It’s dark now.’
Anne Marie looked up at the inky sky as if needing confirmation. ‘Well, okay.’
She followed him as they walked to his car. ‘Sorry about the mess. I shifted some compost the other day and it’s still pretty grim in here.’ He did his best to wipe the passenger seat down and the two of them got in. ‘Whereabouts are you?’
‘On the other side of the village.’
They drove the short distance. Parvington was short on street lighting, but the cottage windows were all ablaze.
‘Here,’ Anne Marie said a moment later.
‘On the left?’
‘Yes. Thank you.’
Cape cut the engine and waited. Anne Marie didn’t move. ‘You okay?’
‘Yes.’
‘You going home?’
She nodded.
He frowned. ‘Anne Marie?’
‘Yes?’
‘Are you all right? Because there’s no rush,’ he added. ‘I can sit here a while longer if you want.’
‘No, I’m good,’ she said, suddenly springing up and opening the car door. ‘Thank you.’
‘No problem.’
‘I mean for today. For listening to me prattling on,’ she said.
‘It was my pleasure and you weren’t prattling.’
‘I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?’
‘You bet.’
He paused for a moment, watching as she walked up the path to the imposing mock Georgian frontage of her house. The porch light was on and he waited for her to get her key out and let herself in, but she didn’t. She paused, seemingly searching the contents of her handbag. Had she lost her key? If so, why didn’t she just ring the bell? There were plenty of lights on so surely somebody was home. No, she had the keys in her hands, he saw. So what was she doing?
At that moment, she turned around and saw that he was still there and gave a funny little wave, seemingly embarrassed at having been caught doing whatever she was doing. Cape waved back and started his engine and left. As he drove out of the village towards his own home in the Thames Valley, he had the strange feeling that Anne Marie would still be loitering on her porch.