‘Three years ago, Miss Ursula,’ he said, smiling at her fondly. Thea was pleased. Ursula needed someone of her own age around and found it hard to get out independently of their parents. Scip was wise beyond his years, having arrived in Britain as a slave and eventually being given his freedom by Mr Morell. He had taught Thea a great many life lessons, as they grew up together.
‘Three years, yes,’ said Ursula excitedly. ‘We brought soil with them as you seem to have to do that with orchids and they came up last year and the rosettes are starting to form this year already.’
‘Hundreds of them, we think,’ said Scip.
‘Incredible,’ said Thea. What a life these two must have, experimenting with plants inside and outside, accompanied by Scip’s extensive growing knowledge. It must feel like anything was possible.
‘Martha, you must come and see your carnivores,’ said Mr Morell from behind them. Thea turned around to see Crumpacker looking alarmed. ‘Carnivorous plants,’ clarified Mr Morell, heading through an internal door in the stove house that hadn’t been there before.
‘Ah,’ said Crumpacker, looking relieved. ‘Carnivores means more risk entirely when travelling, does it not, My Lady?’ He grinned fondly at Martha, who looked a little uncomfortable. Thea was about to ask, but Martha guided her through the doors behind Mr Morell.
‘Indeed,’ she said simply. ‘I think we shall be safe in here.’
Thea followed her. The environment couldn’t be more different to the warm dryness of the stove house they had just left. It was humid and lush, with greenery practically dripping from the walls.
‘Just like Java,’ said Crumpacker from behind Thea where she had ended up between him and Martha on the narrow path. ‘Do you remember, my lady? If only we could have found seeds of that giant arum. Perhaps we shall go back one day at the right time of year.’
‘Perhaps,’ said Martha, speaking over Thea’s head. ‘I am sure Mr Morell could make a good go of them here.’
Thea felt a little disquiet run through her and tried not to be abashed that Martha noted her father over her for the growing of whatever giant plant it was that she didn’t recognise the name of. Not that she could blame her. These growing conditions were vastly superior to hers.
‘I see you have stolen my ideas, Ben,’ said Martha, but with a generous smile. She nodded to the bowls of water over the heating pipes and the damp floor. ‘It’s difficult with dry heat in the pipes but if you keep the humidity up and the soot down on the leaves, the environment is as good as you will get.’
‘Have you managed to improve your growing conditions from just the hot wall, Thea?’ asked Ursula. ‘I hope so as it must help you to grow much more?’
‘Ah, no,’ said Thea. ‘Still the hot wall.’
Martha looked between them. ‘When did you last visit Hawkdean, Ursula?’
‘Oh, the first year of Thea’s marriage,’ said Ursula. ‘Just as Samantha was born. Since then, we haven’t managed to find a date that suits everyone and the growing season.’
Martha looked to Thea in surprise, but Thea just shrugged. ‘It is difficult with George’s insistence that we spend the winter in London, and then there is so much going on for the family here.’ It was true but it was a weak excuse. The reality was that she wanted to spare her sister the spectacle of George in his own house, his evening drunkenness and how objectionable he could be. She knew Ursula already felt guilty about the marriage and wanted to spare her from knowing how miserable she really was.
‘I see,’ said Martha, and it was obvious that she did. Nothing escaped that shrewd mind, thought Thea. ‘So, my carnivores, Ben.’ Martha turned back to Mr Morell and Thea was grateful of the deflection.
‘Scip has been tending to them with great diligence,’ he said. They are thriving and the house is practically fly-free.’ He gestured to the vertical forms ofSarraceniaslike a tiny forest of lidded tubes on a bed made into a sort of bog. They were interplanted with venus fly traps, and the whole effect was mesmerising.
‘What a triumph,’ said Crumpacker in awe. ‘I have never seen them planted so naturally in cultivation. Many congratulations, Scip.’
Scip nodded in acknowledgement. Thea knew it was his passion as much as her father and Ursula’s. ‘All Lady Foxmore’sfrom Denbury,’ he said graciously. ‘I am merely keeping them well until she is able to reside at home more regularly.’
Thea looked at Martha. When would that be, she wondered. When would Martha be able to get back to a normal anything? She either had a fragmented life, or they were apart. Another thing Thea could feel guilty about.
But Martha seemed entirely unconcerned. ‘I am delighted they are in your good care, Scip,’ she said lightly. ‘And I see there is no rush to take them back to Denbury. In fact, I should like you to visit with me while we are here and bring back some more plants, if you would?’
He readily agreed.
‘At least it’s… nicely maintained,’ said Thea, walking round Martha’s glasshouses two days later. They used to be lush and verdant, dripping with flowers and foliage of all kinds, but now all that remained was a skeleton of half-hardy shrubs that the gardener could keep watered easily.
‘And they were my instructions,’ said Martha. ‘I am happy with it being so whilst I am away.’
‘Mmm,’ said Thea.
Martha eyed her. ‘Where are the children?’
Thea gestured beyond the formal garden. ‘Letting off some steam out in the park. Abigail wanted to boat in your formal canal, but Annie managed to distract her with the cows. She loves cows.’
Martha laughed. ‘They have your adventurous spirit and I’m so glad.’ She glanced at Scip who was inspecting aTrachelospermumby the west wall, and then to Crumpacker, who was in the glasshouse showing Mr Fenwick the fine hairs onthe base of the leaves of theOlearia. ‘Come inside with me,’ she said.
