My cutting was a true money plant

BAck in the early eighties, my husband was stationed at The Princess mary’s hospital (TPmh) at RAF Akrotiri in cyprus. We lived in married quarters, comfortably furnished with standard mod furniture. It was not the done thing to make cosmetic changes, other than those sanctioned officially. When vacating, the property had to be returned to standard. This was called ‘marching out’. many myths and tales exist about the inspecting officer wearing white gloves to detect any specks of dust. many a service wife had nightmares about being accused of leaving a ‘filthy’ married quarter! The custom for overseas postings was that you inherited anything the outgoing owners did not want. Favourites were pets, runabout cars and anything else not on the official inventory. every week, there would be new stock in the thrift shop — clothing, books, unwanted items of every description; if it didn’t fit into the transport boxes, it was dumped. But the coup de grace was indoor plants. everyone had them and some plants were thought to be very old, having been passed around for so long. some magnificent specimens were the envy of others. It was dog eat dog when plants were being rehomed. In the hospital grounds was a wonderful formal garden, christened ‘matron’s Garden’. It was lovingly tended by the cypriot gardener and always had pride of place in official photocalls. In this garden was a beautiful, prolific, multicoloured shrub. I never learned its name — the cypriot pronunciation was beyond me. one day, I sneakily nipped off a small cutting and was successful in growing it into a handsome pot plant, albeit a much smaller version of its original. come the day when orders to return to the Uk arrived, I set about disposing — sorry, donating — my unwanted plants and other household clutter. I held a small, lucrative boot sale. one customer was the hospital matron. she adored the plant and, as I was donating my sales to a local charity, she paid handsomely for it. I did not have the heart or the nerve to tell her that she was buying back a cutting I had stolen from her own garden! matron, I am so sorry, I do hope you can forgive my deception. I also hope that you enjoyed the plant and donated it to yet another good home. I really would love to know what happened to that plant.

Victoria Calvert, Halifax, West Yorks.