been caught out at something. ‘By the way, Kezzie, this is Troy.’
‘Pleased to meet you,’ said Kezzie, holding out a hand and shaking the one that had been laconically handed to her. Troy looked at her with a penetrating stare and gave her a dazzling smile. ‘Kezzie, lovely to meet you. Any friend of Lauren’s is a friend of mine.’
He had a lovely, deep voice, and Kezzie had to admit there was something rather seductive about him. She could certainly see the attraction.
‘Mum-eee, I want to go to the park,’ Izzie was tugging her mother’s hand, and Immie looked equally impatient.
‘Nice to meet you, Troy,’ said Kezzie, with a grin. ‘See you all later.’
She made her way up the hill, wondering what was going on with Lauren and Troy. She assumed Lauren had the sense not to have just jumped back into bed with him so soon, but you never knew. Perhaps she really loved the guy, despite what he’d done. Kezzie knew that if Richard turned up suddenly wanting to see her, she wouldn’t have the strength to resist, despite some of the hateful things he’d said to her.
She let herself into the cottage, taking in with pleasure the ethnic throws on Jo’s rickety sofa, the kilims on the wooden floors and the African masks from Jo’s many trips abroad. Kezzie tried to focus on the here and now, on the life she was leading, not the one she’d lost, but she couldn’t stop herself from remembering that last awful meeting they’d had. Richard, her lovely kind Richard, had been so cold and haughty.
‘How could you, Kez?’ He’d looked at her as if she were beneath contempt. ‘I thought I knew you … I was so wrong.’
Kezzie had been unable to say anything. What was the point in arguing about something that was true? She had let Richard down, and she’d let herself down. And in doing so, she’d lost everything she held dear to her. She deserved it, she knew, but Richard had been so cruel, so unkind – she wasn’t quite as wicked as he painted. Yet even with the painful memories of that last time together, she knew she’d still have him back. Which was all very well, but Richard wasn’t showing any signs of rushing to be by her side. He hadn’t contacted Flick or any of Kezzie’s other friends, and even though she hadn’t been looking on Facebook much, he’d made no attempt to contact her there. He couldn’t email or phone, as she’d changed both her address and number, but if he wanted to, he could get in touch. She knew she hadn’t made it easy for him to find her, but the fact that he hadn’t bothered, hurt most of all.
This was no good. Having had a nice weekend, she was about to descend into gloom. Kezzie would normally have popped in to see Lauren, but she was clearly otherwise engaged. She knew Joel was still likely to be out to lunch with his mum, so she’d just decided to sit down with a coffee and a cheery DVD when the phone rang. It was Eileen.
‘Hi Kezzie, just wondering if you were free,’ she said. ‘Only I thought it would be nice to come and have a chat with you about the Edward Handford exhibition and see what sort of material you’ve got.’
‘It’s mainly at Joel’s,’ said Kezzie. ‘Why don’t I give him a ring later and suggest we go and look through it? I know he’s keen to get involved, I’m sure he won’t mind.’
Joel hadn’t been long in from visiting his mum when he got the phone call from Kezzie announcing she and Eileen were going to come up and look through some of the extraordinary finds he and Kezzie had made.
Sam was watching Peppa Pig, and Joel had only planned to sit down with a beer and flick through Edward’s diary anyway, so he wasn’t sorry for the company. The evenings were starting to draw in, and the prospect of long, lonely winter nights was not a pleasant one. It would be good to have some company on a Sunday afternoon for a change. The weekends could often seem like the longest part of the week.
‘So, let’s have a look at all this material you’ve got,’ said Eileen, as Joel ushered her into the dining room, where he’d been keeping the trunk and its contents out of Sam’s way. He was conscious suddenly of how shabby it looked. He hardly had visitors any more, apart from Kezzie. Maybe he should start thinking about redecorating again. ‘It sounds really fascinating.’
‘I know it is,’ admitted Joel. ‘Every time we look at the letters and papers it’s like a treasure-trove and we find something new. I had little idea of who Edward Handford was, apart from the fact that he built the knot garden, until Kezzie started digging. Now I can’t think about anything else. From what I’ve read so far he and Lily had such a lot to contend with – they lost two babies before their eldest, Connie, was born – and I had no idea of any of it. He’s a fascinating character.’
‘Not many people do know much about him,’ said Eileen. ‘Personally, I think he’s one of those overlooked characters whose work was far more influential than gardening history lets on. He worked on so many famous gardens: Chatsworth, Hatfield, Sissinghurst. You name it, he’s designed a garden out there somewhere. He was massively in demand until the end of the First World War, and then he seems to have withdrawn from public life.’
‘That’s strange. Do you know why?’ said Joel.
‘Nobody knows for sure,’ said Eileen. ‘But I know his son died in the war, which is probably why he built the war memorial here. His wife died a year later, I believe. He devoted the rest of his life to philanthropic works – he built the village school you know – but he didn’t design any gardens after that. He seems to have become a bit of a recluse after his wife’s death And the world changed so much after the First World War, and he wasn’t part of it. So he faded into obscurity.’
‘Let me show you what we’ve discovered,’ said Joel. The trunk with all the paperwork in now inhabited the dining room, which was strictly out of bounds to Sam because it had an open log fire, and was therefore the safest place from sticky fingers.
They sifted through some of the letters that Joel and Kezzie had already read, and then Kezzie exclaimed in delight.
‘Oh my God, it’s here, I’ve found it!’
‘Found what?’ It was impossible not to get caught up by Kezzie’s enthusiasm.
‘Look,’ she said, carefully unfolding a large, brittle piece of yellowing paper. ‘This is Edward’s original design for his knot garden. I can’t believe it. See – here are his plans, he drew the patterns out geometrically, and here are his notes about the plants. This is so incredible. A real find.’
‘I can’t quite make out his writing,’ Joel said, squinting a bit. The writing was very faded.
‘It says the borders are to have begonias, petunias, busy lizzies, and heartsease I think,’ said Eileen. ‘I hadn’t realized the original garden had quite that many flowers, I thought it would be simpler than that.’
‘Those borders round the outside of the knot garden itself are a bit fussy for our tastes today,’ said Kezzie, ‘but the Victorians did like their bedding plants. I think I’m going to need to simplify it a bit and mainly use heartsease for the beds, but I would like to find all the plants he used to commemorate the births of his children. It was such a lovely idea.’
‘Oh look, this must be Edward and Lily with their firstborn,’ said Eileen, finding a black and white picture of a stiff-looking couple. Lily was holding an infant in her arms and looking blankly into the camera; Edward looked proud and a black Labrador sat at their feet.
‘Yes, I think it must be,’ said Joel. ‘I’m guessing the baby
