‘Woo hoo!’
Ella spun round to see Bets charging along the path towards her, two branches brimming with white hawthorn blossom held up to her head like antennae. Dex and Tess raced around her, almost tripping her up with wanting to join in the fun but she just laughed at them.
‘What do you think?’ Bets waggled the foliage comically. She looked totally ridiculous, rather like an overgrown ant, but clearly she didn’t care. Her giddy uninhibited silliness stopped Ella in her tracks and, unable to help herself, she burst out laughing.
‘You’re mad.’ She giggled as Bets continued to wave the branches about. ‘But they’ll fill the arrangement up. Thank you.’
‘My pleasure. Let’s see what else me and my trusty hacksaw can carve up for your delectation today.’ Bets did another energetic twirl, leaving a flurry of petals in her wake.
They’d amassed quite a bit already on the short walk this morning. Both dogs seemed utterly perplexed by the women’s sudden interest in the hedgerows.
‘Lots of this would be good.’ Ella pointed to some white flowers.
‘Common mouse-ear,’ said Bets. ‘It’s a weed, I think, but I always think it’s so pretty. I wouldn’t mind it in my garden. I wonder what makes it a weed. Maybe because it grows like one. There’s loads of it.’
Weed or not, she agreed with Bets. The delicate white flowers hidden among the green stems were rather lovely. Her eye was caught by another shrub, glossy leaves just about to unfurl like emerald-backed beetles. Above her head the branches of a sycamore spread, like arms extended to embrace the sky. Her eyes traced the limbs, their arterial divide reminiscent of biological sketches of veins and blood vessels. Funny how these things in nature seemed so interlinked. She’d not noticed it before.
They continued walking and passed under an overhanging bough, bushy with plump catkins. Ella reached up and touched them. ‘Some of these would be good.’ They were reminiscent of the lambs’ tails in the field they passed earlier. To her amazement, the tiny white creatures had actually gambolled, just like they did in cartoons. They were quite cute although the parent sheep looked like grubby old tramps with their shaggy coats encrusted with mud and other unmentionable stuff.
‘So do you know what you’re doing? Or is it a question of get enough stuff and pray?’ asked Bets. ‘Is it going to be like the darts night? You have a hidden talent you didn’t tell me about and you’ve been doing that Japanese ikebana for donkey’s years?’
‘I’ve never heard of that.’ Ella looked quizzically at the other girl who pulled a mournful face.
‘Audrey. Women’s Institute. I get roped in to do all sorts of things, especially when numbers are low.’
‘Ever heard of saying no?’
Bets raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at the pile of flowers in their arms.
‘I didn’t feel I could,’ Ella said defensively. ‘Not after I met the vicar.’
‘With Audrey, you definitely can’t, she’s a force of nature. It’s easier to roll over and say yes.’
It was Ella’s turn to raise an eyebrow.
‘I’m not as bad as her,’ protested Bets. ‘You enjoyed the darts in the end. And the church flowers are down to Magda, not me. Anyway, if it turns out badly, just think they’ll never ask you again.’
‘Again? I thought this was a one off.’
Bets gave her a pitying look, shaking her head. ‘You’ve got so much to learn about village life.’
Finally, satisfied with the haul of greenery, Ella suggested they head for home.
They walked along the path, the dogs making sudden appearances bursting out of the undergrowth, circling each other – and then one would dive off the track, the other dog bouncing along in its wake.
‘They’re having a great time,’ said Bets patting Dex as he bounded past, did a quick about turn and went back the other way, Tess doggedly following in his footsteps. ‘Two dogs are definitely better than one. When Jack and I get married and he takes over the practice we’ll have two.’
Ella didn’t know much about Jack, apart from that he and Bets were childhood sweethearts and he was away at Bristol University studying to be a vet like his older brother.
‘What about Devon?’
‘Devon’s had his own practices for the last few years. He’s only back at the moment because Geoffrey, their dad, hasn’t been well. And he split up from his girlfriend, Marina.’ From the petulant way Bets emphasised the consonants, Ella guessed that the ex-girlfriend wasn’tpersona grata.
‘You don’t like her?’
‘Can’t stand her.’ The words burst out, then Bets paused, her face telegraphing confusion as if disturbed by her own uncharacteristic venom. ‘Sorry, that’s not fair. I don’t really know her that well. She’s not exactly one for family gatherings. Since Devon met her, he’s kind of separated himself from us.’ Bets rammed her hands into her pockets, her pace picking up as if matching her frustration. Ella couldn’t imagine any of her friends being this irate on her behalf.
‘Bloody Marina’s always been too busy to come with him. Filming here. Interviews there. I’m probably biased. She’s got this fabulous, exciting career. I see how much it hurts his parents and pisses Jack off. If she’d made Devon truly happy, maybe none of us would have minded, but he hasn’t seemed very happy for years. Not that he ever said anything. Far too much of a gentleman.’
