He then introduces the rest of the tools and invites them to practice getting their hands dirty. “See these fan-shaped gardens? Each has five segments. You’ll each have an hour to practice turning up the soil in one long fan segment. “Watch me or Evie and copy us. Once you’re done, you can choose which fan garden you want to work on. There are five of them: blue, purple, orange, pink and red. First come first served, so the faster you complete your digging the more likely you are to get your first choice of flower colours.”
As they all start digging, he comes over to me, drops down on his haunches and speaks quietly. “Can you take Isaias and Schaefer under your wing? Just keep them close and look after them.”
I stare at him, unbelieving. “Me?”
“I think they would benefit most from your energy and optimism.”
Energy and optimism? “Osian, they need professional help, and I know nothing about psychology. How am I supposed to—”
“You don’t have to offer counselling. Just work with them the way you did with the boys from the village. I watched you show them how to cut stubborn briars and dig up ivy by the root. If you can make weeding fun, planting flowers should be a piece of cake.”
“I don’t know,” I say, glancing doubtfully at both men.
“I believe in you.”
He’s talking to me like I’m an athlete in need of a pre-match pep talk.
When I don’t answer he must realize I’m still not convinced. “Okay, then do it as a favour to me. Just give it a couple of days. Please?”
He might not be flirting, but his ‘please’ is as irresistible as hot buttered toast on a cold day. “You only want to give me the men so you can keep all the women to yourself,” I say trying to lighten the mood.
His expression sours instantly and his eyes darken with anger. “You really think I’d hit on my clients, particularly vulnerable ones? What the hell, Evie?!”
“Sorry, sorry,” I say quickly, placing a hand on his chest. His heart beneath my palm hammers like an engine. “I was joking.”
“That’s not a joke. Nor is it funny.”
“Okay, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. But why are you so angry?”
Just for an instant, an expression like doubt or uncertainty flashes across his face. Then, rising to his feet, he nods for me to follow him. We walk a little way so we’re out of earshot.
Frowning, his eyes roam around the group, who are all digging inexpertly at their assigned segments.
“Are you worried?” I search his face.
“Is it obvious?” he asks, almost in a whisper.
“No… but I know you a little better. What is it?”
“I’m supposed to inspire confidence in them. They shouldn’t think I’m worried.”
“Why are you worried?” Stupid question.
I reach to touch his arm but then stop short. Osian is not usually a touchy man and I don’t want to trigger a sudden freeze. So I just say: “It’s your first course; you’re bound to be anxious. I felt like this at the start of a TV programme.”
He gives me a grateful look. “You did? It didn’t show.”
“There were times my mouth was as dry as sand. Because you feel all eyes on you and you have to appear poised and cheerful for the audience while thinking frantically about camera angles and what the producer is telling you in your earpiece. And all the time you’re hoping audiences don’t lose interest and flick away.” I glance towards thePerllanworkers. “At least your audience can’t just leave with a quick press of a button on their remote control.”
A ghost of a smile curves his mouth very slightly. “I’m not used to this. I might be an okay gardener; I’ve even taught my nephews to plant things in my sister’s garden. But it’s not the same as a whole group of adults, half of whom aren’t sure they should be here at all. And this first group needs to be a big success or I can kiss my funding application goodbye.”
“How can I help?”
The relief on his face is unmistakable and the strongest proof of how worried he’s been. “Can you do your TV thing? You know, chat as you work, explaining what and why. You’re very good at explaining things without sounding like a teacher. And you have this very nice approachable air as if you’re a friend, even to audiences across the country. It always felt like you were speaking to me personally through the TV screen.”
After that, I have no option but to take on the two guys.
Isaias has clearly never tried gardening. I show him why we need to turn the soil so it’s loose and ready for planting.
