“She’s single now.”
“So what? She’s Llewellyn’s ex. I’d never do that. There are rules about this kind of thing. So even if I wanted to, I’d never go near her. Never.”
“Did you tell her that?”
“I don’t think it’s necessary; she’s not stupid,” he says.
“Then why is she so eager to get accommodation in Kendric House?”
Again, he glances away then he turns back to face me. “Because she knows thePerllansare leaving very soon and she can’t continue to…”
“Continue to stay with Ashe?”
“Something like that.” That hesitant slide of the eyes for an instant tells me he knows or suspects more than he’s telling me.
Has Ashe asked her to leave?
“Now can we talk about something else, please?” Osian asks.
“Okay…?”
“A couple of myPerllanshave asked if they could stay longer and work with you. Amani and Ashe.”
This takes me by surprise. I glance across at both women. Amani, a twenty-two-year-old who dropped out of university and seemed to lose her way. She used to drag her feet like she had nowhere to go. But she came alive when she saw the first green stems poke their way out of the soil. Now she’s usuallydown in the garden by seven and can’t wait for the purple fan to flower so she can take pictures. She’s even set up a new Instagram account to chronicle the progress of her garden. Ashe – who’d lost a husband and a baby – now pours all her love into the blue fan. She is super excited, as if each tulip, bluebell and crocus are her own children.
“What do they want to do?” I ask Osian.
“The course funding ends next week. I can’t keep them after that because a new group will be starting and we’ll need the rooms. But if you have money to employ them…?”
“After the Easter opening, you mean?” I think about it. Maybe one of them, but not both.
Chapter Thirty-seven
Good Friday starts cloudy, although the forecast promised blue skies. But I’m being unfair – the day hasn’t started and the skies are still nearly black. I hardly slept last night, my mind whirring with all the things I forgot to add to my list. By 4am I decide I may as well get up.
When I go downstairs at a quarter to five, I can smell baking from Leonie’s café which means she’s up early, too. Before I can even think about coffee, I need to print out my task lists. I turn away, fishing out my key to the Hub, only to find it already open, the lights on and machinery humming. Alex and Llewellyn sit at a large computer screen with a cluster of teenagers trying to look over their shoulders.
I check my phone in case I’ve got the time wrong. But no: 4:48am. “Didn’t you guys sleep last night?” I ask, sitting behind my usual computer.
“Did you?” Llewellyn scoffs gently when he sees me start typing almost immediately.
My to-do list for today is long but manageable if it’s organised. I split it into three sections: inside, outside and personnel.
Inside is welcome, tickets for each activity, leaflet handouts, and – biggest of all – the video loops. These are clips and slides with my voiceover explaining the growth cycles of some of the rare plants we’ve introduced in the garden. Each will be played on a continuous loop on one of the big screens around the house.
Outside is the fun, easy part: the arranged walks and making sure all the plant labels and info signs are in the right places and there is at least one volunteer at each fan to stop people steppingintothe flowerbeds.
“What are you all doing here?” Evan calls from the door.
The teenagers know he’s talking to them and instantly stand up straighter. I’m always impressed by his management of boys, most of whom have been excluded from their schools for bad behaviour. I guess when he holds the carrot of training them on their favourite subject, they listen to him.
Wyn, one of the teens, says, “We’re trying to see Alex’s presentation. It’s about the Blue Lady.”
The Blue Lady? Despite myself I’m intrigued. She’s one of two riddles no one can solve. The mysterious lady in a blue gown and the enigmatic gentleman in a top hat. Both images pop up here and there in Kendric House. In portraits, stained glass, miniatures and of course mosaics. Alex and the professor are convinced they’re real people with an important link to the history of the house.
“No Blue Lady.” Alex clicks his mouse, peering closely at the screen. “I think this slide needs to go before,” he says to Llewellyn. “The professor has a thing to read afterwards.”
“Make him tell us.” Another of the boys appeals to Evan.
