for years. Obviously I’m not going again until I progress far enough to avoid a pity party when I turn up. Let’s face it, if I was up to going I wouldn’t be here. Reasons not to go … Words … I’m flailing to get to grips with either, when Aunty Jo jumps in.
‘I’m so sorry, my concentration’s shot to pieces, so novels and book group are no-no. Just for now.’
I’m trying not to gasp at how easily she’s covering for me. Reading is the one thing she still does, her to-be-read pile is under the dust sheet and as high as the sofa and, even if she’s driven me to distraction all day wittering about mess, I want to hug her for this.
Loella’s reaching out and patting her arm. ‘Of course. I’m so sorry, Josie, I should have thought.’ Her smile is full of warmth. ‘But you will think about this evening? It won’t be late.’
If Loella bothered to take half a glance at the wreck of the lawn she’d get the picture. Outdoors equals mud, and dirt gives Aunty Jo a hissy fit, so I’m expecting to get a firm ‘no’, but I might as well give it a try. I turn to Aunty Jo. ‘Well, you’ve got a cottage and you’ve got a garden, so shall we try it?’
I know grow-your-own salad is huge now, but Marcus is the trend-freak, not me. I’d be totally out of my comfort zone here, yet again. But Aunty Jo is definitely brighter for getting out, so I’m up for persuading her.
She’s pulling a face. ‘I don’t know.’
Loella catches my eye, then leans in closer. ‘You’ve got quite a kingdom here, with your outbuildings too, Josie-pie.’
‘They’re next on the list …’ I peel a piece of wallpaper off my jeans ‘… after this.’ That’s on the list in my head, obviously. We haven’t got any further with the one on the clipboard. Realistically, seeing how far we’ve got after a whole day working here, and knowing how far the cottage rambles, and the size of the barns, I’m going to have to pull in some help fast. But with my ‘professional’ head on, I know it’ll be better to wait until we make more contacts. Which is another good reason to get out and mingle with the gardeners.
Loella’s straight back at me. ‘Great then, I’ll take that as a “yes”. I’ll pick you both up at seven sharp?’ She doesn’t wait for an answer. A moment later she’s marching off across the courtyard, followed by her band of children.
And I’m wondering what the hell I’ve let us both in for.
Day 142: Friday, 23rd March
At The Deck Gallery
Epic Achievement: Pretending to be a gardener, and not being found out.
If I didn’t know stripping walls was good for you before, I do now – my arms feel like they’ve had a full-body workout, and then some. Not that I’ve actually managed that many of those in my life. If I’m honest, I’m one of those classic fails who signs up for the gym in January then never goes. As I say to Bella, if it wasn’t for people like us, the cross trainers would be horribly overcrowded. But the good news from St Aidan is, we finally wave goodbye to the rainforest in the day room. I’m not the only one around here planning ambushes either. After a meticulous round of tidying up, Aunty Jo literally comes at me out of nowhere me with a pen and paper and an order to do some calligraphy practice. Luckily I get over my horror fast enough to persuade her there isn’t time to do that and get into my Audrey H slim tailored slacks and my little Gap cashmere polo neck. Obviously I will need to work on my writing. It’s just more auspicious when there’s less compulsion and, truly, my biceps have had enough exercise for one day.
For dinner we have grilled chicken and carrots, which suddenly come back on-limits when I explain that’s what Cheryl (formerly Cole) eats when she’s getting in shape for a tour. And I know this because Sadie the ‘do everything in the office’ person at Zinc Inc used to lend me her Closer magazine every Friday afternoon, then ask questions to check I’d read it from end to end. I just never imagined it was knowledge I’d ever get to use.
It was dusk when Loella pulled up in the lane, totally blocking it with her battered red off-roader. I can only assume she has some local artistic licence which allows that, or else shepherd’s hut man has seen the size of the thing and the scrapes down the sides, and on balance decided to shut the fuck up. I was worried Barney might hitch a lift too, in the hope of bagging more gullible Airbnb cottage garden owners, but luckily he didn’t. In any case, it was literally a couple of bounces around bends and then we were down at The Deck, blocking the mews there.
While Loella goes off to find somewhere to double park, I send Aunty Jo ahead of me through the door with a shove that’s considerably bigger than she is. ‘No need to get all fidgety, Aunty Jo, there are lots of people we know.’
As we make our way towards the chairs arranged in rows in front of a white pull-up screen and Beth dances over, I’m waving back at so many people I feel like I’ve been here way longer than a week.
‘Josie, you must meet my dad, Malcolm. I saved you seats next to him.’ As Beth turns to me she drops her voice. ‘We lost Mum five years ago, but it’s been so much tougher since he retired in the autumn.’
By the time I wriggle out of my jacket and into the chair beside them, they’re already deep in some discussion about perennial geraniums, whatever they are. When they finally pause I hiss into Aunty Jo’s ear, ‘How do you know so much about gardening?’
She gives a sniff. ‘I’ve heard about it from Harry over the years. I can definitely hold my own on alliums.’ She glances behind us to where there’s a guy arranging boxes of slides. ‘And you can’t beat a good magic lantern show.’
As Loella claps her hands at the front I have a brief moment of polka-dot dress envy, then everyone goes quiet. ‘So welcome everybody. Jeremy’s standing by at the projector with an hour’s worth of slides showing his take on last year’s Wild and Blooming Festival in St Aidan. Then afterwards we’ll move on to coffee, cake and chat.’ As everyone claps she slips to the back, switches off the lights and sits down.
As I settle into my seat my main worry is about what’s going to happen if I snore. With the promise of so many flower pictures, probably all the same, I’m already biting back a yawn. Realistically, my concentration isn’t great at the best of times. In the dark, after a hard day of paper stripping, I’m likely to stay awake approximately a nanosecond. Then Jeremy starts clicking his handset, there’s a flash of lights on the screen as he flips through his first few slides to find where to begin.
My stomach clenches and I clamp my eyes closed. Why the heck did I not think? I prod Aunty Jo as I get up and whisper, ‘The flashing isn’t good, I’d better go.’
‘Shall I come with you?’ She’s wrenching her gaze away from daisies blowing in a summer breeze.
‘You stay – I’ll see you at the end.’ I ease into the aisle and dip to avoid the light beam from the projector. The last thing I want to do is disturb everyone by causing a big on-screen shadow as I go, so I drop down and crawl between the chairs, returning all the perturbed looks with smiles and little waves, trying to look like I planned this all along.
On my hands and knees, trailing my jacket along the rough-hewn boards might not be the most dignified way to leave, and it makes a mockery
