“Thank you, Archer,” she said, her voice steady but her eyes still glistening with unshed tears.
A heavy silence settled over the room. June glanced at Ollie, then at me, as if seeking my permission to leave. When I made no move, she sat still, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, waiting for my signal.
Chapter Thirty-eight
OLLIE
I’d never seen Archer so stern or heard his voice so deep and authoritative as when he spoke to June. In different circumstances, I’d have been turned on as hell. As it was, I’d been fighting a wave of sickness knowing that I’d flamed another dragon. I’d burned him badly enough to have to go to hospital.
That sickness receded when Archer pronounced judgement, which was so much more merciful than I’d expected, and it faded even further when June told him the family loved him. Ofcoursethey did. How could they not, when he took such care of each and every one of them? Yet it seemed to be news to him. I wanted to hug him when he went all gruff and embarrassed, but I had to respect his status in front of June.
I wasn’t sure what was going to happen next because Archer was making no move to dismiss June. We sat in silence for a while before Archer spoke. “Has Chris found another job?”
June looked as surprised as I felt at the question. “No. He’s got too much experience for entry-level jobs and hasn’t had any luck with any others, and I haven’t got any job history or experience. We’re selling the house, which will buy us some time.”
Archer looked long and hard at her. “It won’t be what he’s used to, but I can offer him a minimum wage job helping in the gardens while he’s searching for a permanent job.”
The tears June had so far held back spilled over and ran down her cheeks. “That’s—that’s so much more than I ever expected. Thank you, Archer.”
He seemed uncomfortable at her gratitude and said brusquely, “I could do with the help, and he could do with a bit of cash.”
“I need to get a job too, so maybe I could help? We have—wehada gardener, and I oversaw his work, so I know how to do things.”
Bloodyhell.I found myself staring at her beautifully manicured hands while thinking about the sheer tights and high heels she always wore. I couldn’t imagine her laying horse manure round the rose bushes. She must be desperate.
Archer grimaced. “In principle, I’d say yes, but I’m not sure I could afford you both.”
“Unless…” I realised I was interrupting and abruptly shut up.
Archer raised his eyebrows, encouraging me to continue.
“Unless you make the gardens pay for themselves,” I said in a rush. “Maybe open them up a few weekends a year to the public. I know a lot of the garden has fallen fallow, but you have a moat, a folly, and amaze.People will love it. Decayed grandeur is more relatable and much more interesting than the real thing.” I crashed to a halt as I realised what I’d said. “Shit. Sorry. That was tactless.”
“No one would want to come here,” Archer said with certainty.
“Never underestimate the nosiness or snobbishness of the British public. I almost got mobbed on the bus when they heard I was from the big house,” I told him. “You could move the donkeys closer to the house, because everyone loves miniature donkeys, and use their field for car parking. You can charge extra if people want to climb the folly. I think the maze should be included in the entrance fee, though you’ll have to issue maps, otherwise you’ll spend all your time going in and rescuing people.”
“Ollie.” Archer had his hand up to halt me. “There’s not enough here to interest anyone.”
“Are you kidding me? You have everything except peacocks. Listen, if you charge a tenner a time and get a hundred cars, which is averyconservative estimate if you’re opening a garden like this that no one’s ever seen—that’s a thousand quid for almost no effort. And you should definitely charge more than that.”
“But there’s going to be insurance and—” He was evidently groping for other objections. “Loos! What about loos? I’m not having strangers traipsing into the house.”
“Hire some portaloos at first.” I was on a roll and wasn’t going to be distracted by frivolous questions. “If you open the first time under the banner of one of the big charities, they’ll pay your insurance and give you advice in return for your takings. You’d find out if the interest is there with no outlay. And if enough peopledowant to come, you can put some of the money back into the gardens and slowly develop them.Loadsofpeople would come back every year to find out how far you’ve got. That’s what they did with those forgotten gardens in Cornwall as they restored them. You should do some discounted loyalty tickets to ensure it.”
“This is my home. I don’t want strangers here.”
“Yeah, I get that. But a few, defined weekends a year? Keeping the gates closed the rest of the time? Isn’t it worth it to get a bit more money coming in? You could sell bags of duck food for kids to feed the bloody things, and have nature trails around the lake, and Mia and I could sell ice creams out of cooler boxes, and Tim can sell organic plants and veggies from the kitchen garden. Oh! You should be in your forge and people would watch you working, and thenthey could buy some of your work. They’d love that, and you could charge them a fortune for something made by the owner of Talbot Court!”
Archer looked to June for support.
She was staring at me. “He’s bloody brilliant.”
Archer shook his head despairingly, but he smiled at me, warm and fond. “He is.”
ARCHER
Ollie shrugged off our praise. “My mum dragged me round country houses with big gardens more times than I care to remember, so I know what people like. You should definitely get peacocks though.”
