Charlotte’s Garden Summery Long Read

From a barren bed of hurt feelings, shoots of kindness and friendship can grow…

“SATISFIED?” she said to the GARDEN and INDIRECTLY to her NEIGHBOURS

Awork in progress?” a male voice called. Ellie looked up from the book she was reading with her six-year-old daughter on the front step of their ground floor flat. She shaded her eyes from the bright sun with one hand and her heart leapt. It was him! Their handsome neighbour from six doors up, holding the hand of a young boy.

She wondered briefly who the boy was because she was certain their neighbour was unattached. The presence of the boy, though, meant that he liked children, right? She began to return their neighbour’s warm smile.

Ellie then realised what he was asking about. The two flowerless garden beds on either side of the building’s front walk. She winced.

“Not exactly,” she replied. How could she explain that the empty beds were an act of defiance created in a pique of resentment and hurt? Would it seem too childish?

She and Charlotte had been living no more than three weeks in their new flat when the notice arrived in the mail. Some residents’ committee, or other, complaining about the state of her flower beds.

With a new job in a strange city far from her mother’s support and her daughter in a new school trying hard to make new friends, she’d needed this complaint like she’d needed a lead boot. Ellie phoned the landlord straight away.

“Don’t you remember discussing the lease?” her landlord had asked. “The www.myweekly.co.uk other tenants in the building have balconies to enjoy. The tenant on the ground floor has the little front garden. The idea of you and your daughter spending time together in the garden seemed to please you.”

The idea of her adventurous daughter keeping her feet firmly on the ground rather than using balcony railings as playground equipment had also appealed. She’d assumed, obviously over-optimistically, she’d only need to water the garden’s flowers from time to time, not make sure the garden met some official community standard.

“You can landscape however you like. Within reasonable parameters, of course. Most important is that you keep the garden neat and weed-free. I thought you understood.”

Ellie hadn’t really taken note of the garden over the weeks she’d been reorganising both Charlotte’s life and hers. In the interim, the flower beds had become incredibly overgrown. Weeds, flowers, she couldn’t tell the difference, not being much of a gardener. Which neighbour or neighbours had been hard-hearted enough to complain?

On the Saturday following the receipt of the notice she’d forced herself out of bed early. She’d purchased a small spade from the nursery she’d spotted from the window of her bus on the way to work. It would take hours of work to weed the beds, she’d determined, and this time-consuming task would need to be repeated on a regular basis.

“Best and easiest to dig everything up,” she’d told Charlotte.

By noon, they were finished. Ellie wiped perspiration from her forehead with the back of her hand. Her garden had become neat, empty of weeds and above all maintenance-free.

“Satisfied?” she’d called to the garden and indirectly her gardening neighbours on either side. “Satisfied?” she’d called

to anyone within the sound of her voice.

Then she’d trooped defiantly back into her flat, head held high, though the unkindness of her neighbours still stung.

“Shall we celebrate with macaroni cheese for lunch, Charlotte?”

Uncle David? Uncle David, please!” The young boy was now pulling on his uncle’s hand.

Trim and fit, their neighbour this morning was casually dressed in an open-necked shirt and faded jeans.

She and Charlotte sometimes saw him in a business suit, briefcase in hand, setting off for work at the same time as they were leaving their flat to walk to school, the tall straight-backed figure disappearing at a fast clip while she and Charlotte had a tendency to dawdle.

“You promised we would go to the park,” the boy insisted. “There’s nothing for us to see here.” The boy began tugging his uncle along the pavement.

“I guess we have to go,” David called with a laugh.

David. Now at least she knew his name. “David,” she whispered, enjoying the sound of that name on her tongue.

“No-one likes our garden, Mum.” Charlotte, silent for so long, now huffed this observation, obviously offended by a remark from a boy her age. “It’s boring.”

It certainly hadn’t impressed either David or his nephew, Ellie thought.

Aworkinprogress. Had David meant his remark to be facetious? The garden had stood fallow for almost a month, with weeds slowly establishing themselves again. Ellie covered her face and groaned. “Couldn’t we have a fairy garden, like the lady up the street?” Charlotte begged.

The fairy garden was Charlotte’s favourite. Whenever Ellie walked her daughter home from school, they always stopped at the fairy garden. The garden overflowed with flowers and flowering shrubs of every description. Nestled among the foliage were ceramic figurines of woodland fairies. Ellie was sure the gardener moved them around, took some out and added new ones.

“Do you think they come alive at night?” Charlotte always asked in hushed tones of reverence.

“A garden like that would need more care and attention than I have time to give, Charlotte,” she explained gently.

“But our garden is unhappy compared to the others.”

Unhappy because it sat empty among all the beautiful gardens that lined the street, is that what Charlotte meant? Ellie sighed.

Even she had a favourite garden – one situated four houses down from her daughter’s favourite. A leafy maple tree at the garden’s near end offered shade to passers-by. Perennial flowers graced the perimeter. In the far corner a small arbour sheltered a statue of St Francis. In front of the statue an artificial spring gurgled into a stone catch basin where birds sometimes drank and bathed.

She found the garden calming, peaceful, as she stood in the tree’s shade for a few moments at the end of her work day listening to the water.

The gardener had been unknown to her until the afternoon of one very hot, very trying day. Her feet hurt from the new shoes she’d purchased. Her hair was limp from the humidity and her blouse clung to her back.

She’d collected Charlotte from school on her way home from work as usual and Charlotte had insisted she find all the fairies in the fairy garden before going home.

“I’ll wait for you down the street then. In the shade of that tree right there.” Ellie pointed. She’d been too tired to argue. “Once you’ve found them all catch up with me. OK?”

With no-one else on the street and thinking the tree shade offered some privacy, Ellie untucked the hem of her blouse from the top of her skirt. She then bent down and with a groan of relief removed the shoe that was causing the blister. Eyes closed, clothing awry, shoe in one hand, she stood listening to the water’s relaxing gurgle… until she felt someone watching.

Her eyes flew wide as she halfturned. A man sat still and quiet, a book on his lap watching her from a bench under the weeping branches of the tree that also sheltered St Francis.

Dark hair, dark warm eyes. David. Although she hadn’t known at the time that was his name.

“It is a bit hot, isn’t it?” he said, a bemused smile curving his lips.

“The… the shade’s lovely,” she’d stammered pointing at the tree. “And your garden.” She pointed again and then realised she was pointing with her shoe. Never before had she felt more embarrassed than now.

At least her face was already so flushed from the heat there was no chance of it turning any redder.

Thank goodness Charlotte raced toward her at that moment, hands clutching a small bouquet of flowers.

“The fairy garden lady gave me these and we have to put them in water before they wilt.”

Having dispensed this information, Charlotte continued to pound along the pavement towards home. “I have to go – thank you.” Ellie had humiliated herself further by bouncing on one foot while trying to refit the shoe to the other one. “Any time.” Ellie hadn’t been sure if that was the message she’d heard called after her.

Even now, sitting here with Charlotte, the memory of that escapade made her shake her head in despair. What must he think of her?

And what did he think of the state of her garden? Other gardens along the street had been created, obviously, not only for the pleasure of the gardeners but for the pleasure of their neighbours and passers-by as well. David’s among them. All the gardens contributing to the sense of community.

Suddenly, Ellie remembered her grandmother had grown beautiful roses.

“What if we planted roses, Charlotte?” Surely she could care for a few rose bushes, Ellie thought. She could certainly distinguish them from weeds. Now that her life was more organised, too, she would have more time to devote to a garden. She couldn’t help thinking that there had been a rose bush or two in David’s garden.

“Can we, Mum? Please.”

The owner of the small nursery was kind enough to waive the delivery fee. “We make deliveries to that street all the time. A few rose bushes will be no bother. We’ll drop them on the other side of the gate.

The owner did as promised. Midweek Ellie and her daughter arrived home to find rose bushes in their front garden.

“They’re here, they’re here!” Charlotte cried. “Can we plant them right after supper?”

Ellie became caught up in her daughter’s excitement. They ferried bowls and saucepans of water to pour over the roots of the roses once planted. Ellie thought she saw a few net curtains on front windows twitch as they laboured away.

“Satisfied?” Ellie whispered under her breath at those watching – but more with a sense of fun than with the resentment she’d previously felt.

The following week as her roses seemed to be making a serious effort to catch up with the other gardens, Charlotte insisted they stop once again outside the fairy garden.

“Mrs Fairy Garden Lady,” Charlotte called – Ellie cringed – to the woman kneeling working among her flowers. “Mum and I are growing roses in our front garden.”

“Are you?” the woman said with a

Eyes CLOSED, clothing AWRY, she suddenly FELT someone WATCHING

wide smile as she approached.

“Do you think your fairies would maybe visit our garden now that we have roses?”

Charlotte knew the fairies were figurines, Ellie thought, but that didn’t keep her from hoping.

“My fairies don’t like leaving the garden, I’m afraid. It’s their home. Gifts from children and grandchildren who would recognise if one went missing,” she admitted in an aside to Ellie. “However,” she said, turning her attention to Charlotte again, “I do have three small rabbits looking for a home. There hasn’t been any room for them here since all the fairies arrived. I think they would like living among your roses.”

Ellie tried to hurry Charlotte past David’s garden, still painfully aware of the poor impressions she’d made. Her hope of passing by unnoticed was dashed, though, once Charlotte spotted David working in his garden.

“Mr David,” Charlotte yelled – Ellie was surprised her daughter remembered his name. “Mr David!”

“He may be too busy to be bothered, Charlotte.” Ellie tried to restrain Charlotte’s excitement, resting a calming hand on her shoulder.

However, he looked up from the rock basin that he’d been clearing of fallen leaves, stood up, and walked towards them, drying his hands on a cloth.

“Hello,” David said, his voice filled with warmth as he greeted her daughter.

“My name is Charlotte and this is my mum, Ellie. We’re growing roses in our garden and the fairy garden lady gave us these rabbits.” She nodded at the two rabbits in her arms. Ellie held the third. “You can tell that boy who was with you last time that we have something for him to see now.”

That encounter obviously had made a lasting impression on Charlotte – the boy’s dismissal of their barren garden.

“I’ll be sure to tell James next time he stays with me. His mum and dad are often away on business.” David looked up at Ellie then. “It’s a pleasure to meet you properly at last.”

“OK, Mum, we have to get the rabbits home.” Charlotte adjusted her grip on the rabbits as if they were squirming to be set free. “Bye, Mr David.”

As they hurried off, Ellie risked a backward glance and found David still watching them, still smiling. Maybe he hadn’t been simply polite. Maybe he had been genuinely pleased to meet her, in spite of all that had gone before. Ellie barely kept her feet from skipping as she ran to catch up with her daughter.

Ellie stood with her coffee in one hand, the morning sun warm on her skin, the perfume of roses filling the air. The rose bushes needed pruning, though, she thought. Thorns had been snagging the postman’s trousers whenever he walked up the path.

Behind her, Charlotte sat perched contentedly on the front step finishing her breakfast toast.

Satisfied? The question rose unbidden in Ellie’s mind. Areyousatisfied?

Before she could answer, someone else posed a question.

“Do you think they come alive at night?” a familiar voice asked. Two figures were crouched on the pavement outside the wrought iron fence peering in at her garden. “They seem to be in a different place whenever I look.”

“Ah, Uncle David, you know those rabbits aren’t real.”

“Hello,” Ellie called. David and James rose to their feet. “We’re trying to find your rabbits this morning. Sometimes they prove quite elusive.”

“Cottontail’s right here,” Charlotte said, coming forward and pointing. “Bernard and Toby are under that bush there.”

Charlotte had adopted the fairy lady’s habit of moving her bunnies about before bedtime, for her own entertainment and the entertainment of passers-by. It pleased her, Ellie knew, that David enjoyed her game.

“In addition to admiring your garden, I’ve come to lend you these.” David held out a pair of secateurs. “It’s been rumoured you needed a pair.”

Ellie burst out laughing over the notion of the postman sharing his dilemma among the neighbours.

“Would you like to join me in a cup of coffee?” she tentatively asked.

“If you could make it a take-away,” he answered and Ellie grew still with disappointment. But then David smiled that warm smile of his. “James and I are on our way to the park. We’d be delighted if you and Charlotte would join us.”

Areyousatisfied? The question rose again in her mind. She smiled a warm smile of her own. Immensely.

“Sure. Two take-away coffees for us, and juice for the children. We’ll be along in just a minute.”

“Do you THINK they come ALIVE AT NIGHT? They’re in DIFFERENT places”